original: "Shen x George." Slash.
Shen x George time-stamp/step.
This story is set about a year into their relationship.
Shen Tried to keep his mind on his work, two months ago he had finished his degree in psychology and was currently putting together new patient files, however, his mind kept shifting to George.
George was still a seed lifter, and since he made the two hundred thousand quota, he made a lot more money from it then Shen did.
One day last week Shen had gotten home early, only because he'd forgotten to tell George.
When George got home he shifted coming through the door and threw his satchel onto the bench, normally he'd pop into the clothes in it, but now that Shen had started his counselling job, he'd be the only one in the house.
He got a glass of juice and walked into the living room, and stopped dead, on the couch sat a cross-legged Shen and opposite him, an owl, George dropped his glass which shattered on their wooden floor.
In hindsight he may have jumped to the same conclusion George did.
“You bastard.” George ground out, he turned back and strode through the kitchen swinging open the front door hard enough to punch a hole in the wall with the handle.
He shifted and flew out the door.
Shen flexed his feet as he thought about how he went to chase after him, and had gotten two steps into the broken glass on the floor.
The owl there had shifted with a towel from his bathroom and helped him pull out the shards and bandage his feet.
He hadn't seen George for a week.
“Thanks go letting me stay here.” George said. He'd flown for an hour, but he had been tierd after all day at work flying buckets of seeds between silos. At the time he figured he'd sleep under a bridge or something, but had flown straight into his boss, Mr.Wilkins.
“No problem.” Wilkins said as if he'd rather not have George there.
“It's nice to have company.” he added.
Wilkins was a magpie, and they were generally thought of as stuck up, but George had known him for a while now, and knew how untrue that was, he knew Wilkins couldn't help sounding like a real dick, but once you got past that you'd find that he was quite squishy.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Wilkins said, handing him a coffee.
George took it and sipped.
“No.” he said.
Wilkins thought a moment, George was a good employee, but he was also a good friend.
“Could I persuade you to talk about it if I told you something about, myself?”
George looked at him, sure they'd been friends for a while, but Wilkins rarely talked about himself.
“Okay.” George said, he didn't really want to talk about it, but he knew it would help, and Wilkins was a smart man, if anyone, he would help.
Wilkins nodded, and took a breath.
“My name isn’t really Wilkins Wilkins.”
George choked on his coffee.
“What!?” he managed between coughs.
Wilkins patted his back until he stopped coughing.
It had been an absolute fact that this man's name was Wilkins Wilkins, it was even written on his office door, home address, and every so often what his wife called him on the rare occasions she'd popped into work to see him.
Wilkins nodded.
“My name's Richard Wilkins.”
George gapped at him.
“I didn't want to be nicknamed 'Dick'.”
Shen sighed and laid his head on his arms over his paperwork. He supposed it was a silly idea to interview secretaries for work at home, but it was the end of the day and he had only thought of it once he'd got home.
Shen opened an eye at the sound of his doorbell, it was dark in his office and his glowing analogy clock read 20:41, eight forty one, maybe he was more stressed then he thought. He lifted his head when his doorbell rang again; 'it must be important if they’re here this late' he thought and got up.
He gingerly walked to the door, his feet were still tender, the doorbell rang again just as he reached it, he hadn't bothered to flick on any lights, his house was clean, if not a bit dusty, he thought about turning on a light, but he'd be able to see with the light from the street lamps.
Shen opened the door and felt his heart crumble, there was George, standing, staring at him.
“George.” he said, and felt his legs turn to jello, he fell, and there was George cradling him, staring into his eyes.
“George I.” he started but stopped when George made a soft shh'ing sound.
“I'm sorry.” George said, leaning in and giving Shen a small kiss.
Shen's chin quivered, and wrapped his arms around George's neck.
“It's okay.” George whispered to him, rocking him and planting kisses to the top of his head while Shen cried into his chest.
“Let’s get you inside.” George said lifting Shen, kicking the door shut behind him.
He laid Shen on the couch.
“It’s okay now.” he said and climbed on top of him, placing kisses on his neck. Pulling Shen's shirt up, he continued placing soft kisses.
Shen woke the next morning in his bed, he smiled remembering last night with George, he turned over to view his prince, but the bed was empty, Shen frowned and sighed through his nose but faltered when he smelled the fantastic smell wafting in from the kitchen, he forgot his frown and sigh and just inhaled deeply.
“Romanian seed waffles.” came George's voice from the doorway; he was holding a tray laden with waffles.
“And juice.” Shen said, unable to keep the grin spreading across his face.
This story is set about a year into their relationship.
Shen Tried to keep his mind on his work, two months ago he had finished his degree in psychology and was currently putting together new patient files, however, his mind kept shifting to George.
George was still a seed lifter, and since he made the two hundred thousand quota, he made a lot more money from it then Shen did.
One day last week Shen had gotten home early, only because he'd forgotten to tell George.
When George got home he shifted coming through the door and threw his satchel onto the bench, normally he'd pop into the clothes in it, but now that Shen had started his counselling job, he'd be the only one in the house.
He got a glass of juice and walked into the living room, and stopped dead, on the couch sat a cross-legged Shen and opposite him, an owl, George dropped his glass which shattered on their wooden floor.
In hindsight he may have jumped to the same conclusion George did.
“You bastard.” George ground out, he turned back and strode through the kitchen swinging open the front door hard enough to punch a hole in the wall with the handle.
He shifted and flew out the door.
Shen flexed his feet as he thought about how he went to chase after him, and had gotten two steps into the broken glass on the floor.
The owl there had shifted with a towel from his bathroom and helped him pull out the shards and bandage his feet.
He hadn't seen George for a week.
“Thanks go letting me stay here.” George said. He'd flown for an hour, but he had been tierd after all day at work flying buckets of seeds between silos. At the time he figured he'd sleep under a bridge or something, but had flown straight into his boss, Mr.Wilkins.
“No problem.” Wilkins said as if he'd rather not have George there.
“It's nice to have company.” he added.
Wilkins was a magpie, and they were generally thought of as stuck up, but George had known him for a while now, and knew how untrue that was, he knew Wilkins couldn't help sounding like a real dick, but once you got past that you'd find that he was quite squishy.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Wilkins said, handing him a coffee.
George took it and sipped.
“No.” he said.
Wilkins thought a moment, George was a good employee, but he was also a good friend.
“Could I persuade you to talk about it if I told you something about, myself?”
George looked at him, sure they'd been friends for a while, but Wilkins rarely talked about himself.
“Okay.” George said, he didn't really want to talk about it, but he knew it would help, and Wilkins was a smart man, if anyone, he would help.
Wilkins nodded, and took a breath.
“My name isn’t really Wilkins Wilkins.”
George choked on his coffee.
“What!?” he managed between coughs.
Wilkins patted his back until he stopped coughing.
It had been an absolute fact that this man's name was Wilkins Wilkins, it was even written on his office door, home address, and every so often what his wife called him on the rare occasions she'd popped into work to see him.
Wilkins nodded.
“My name's Richard Wilkins.”
George gapped at him.
“I didn't want to be nicknamed 'Dick'.”
Shen sighed and laid his head on his arms over his paperwork. He supposed it was a silly idea to interview secretaries for work at home, but it was the end of the day and he had only thought of it once he'd got home.
Shen opened an eye at the sound of his doorbell, it was dark in his office and his glowing analogy clock read 20:41, eight forty one, maybe he was more stressed then he thought. He lifted his head when his doorbell rang again; 'it must be important if they’re here this late' he thought and got up.
He gingerly walked to the door, his feet were still tender, the doorbell rang again just as he reached it, he hadn't bothered to flick on any lights, his house was clean, if not a bit dusty, he thought about turning on a light, but he'd be able to see with the light from the street lamps.
Shen opened the door and felt his heart crumble, there was George, standing, staring at him.
“George.” he said, and felt his legs turn to jello, he fell, and there was George cradling him, staring into his eyes.
“George I.” he started but stopped when George made a soft shh'ing sound.
“I'm sorry.” George said, leaning in and giving Shen a small kiss.
Shen's chin quivered, and wrapped his arms around George's neck.
“It's okay.” George whispered to him, rocking him and planting kisses to the top of his head while Shen cried into his chest.
“Let’s get you inside.” George said lifting Shen, kicking the door shut behind him.
He laid Shen on the couch.
“It’s okay now.” he said and climbed on top of him, placing kisses on his neck. Pulling Shen's shirt up, he continued placing soft kisses.
Shen woke the next morning in his bed, he smiled remembering last night with George, he turned over to view his prince, but the bed was empty, Shen frowned and sighed through his nose but faltered when he smelled the fantastic smell wafting in from the kitchen, he forgot his frown and sigh and just inhaled deeply.
“Romanian seed waffles.” came George's voice from the doorway; he was holding a tray laden with waffles.
“And juice.” Shen said, unable to keep the grin spreading across his face.