Continuation to Its Safe to Say We Tried
Title: Not That Drunk
Author: Anglwitscbdwngs
Paring: Alex/George
Prompt: joe’s, last call
Continuation to It’s Fair to Say We Tried
Rating: PG
Word Count: 454
Inspired in part by “Last Call” by Black Elephant
x-posted at
Georgealex and
greys_prompts
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“Last Call!” rang out to the still too crowded bar.
Alex raises a shot glass filled with amber liquid quickly to his lips. His eyes stare over the rim at a hand on George’s thigh across the room.
Some asshole has been chatting Bambi up for the past two hours. And he wouldn’t care but…it's last call and George hasn’t told him to get lost yet. Hasn’t decided yet if he’s letting himself be taken home for the night.
Alex’s knuckles ache, a kind of burning that can only be soothed by the heavy slam of bone on bone.
The guy looks like he stumbled out of an Abercrombie catalogue, and he’s rubbing George like he knows that it's in the bag.
Alex can’t be blamed when he lets his fist connect with the cocky bastard’s right cheek. He just deserved it.
“What the fuck!”
He’s more surprised to hear the curse than the sharp jolt in his shoulders where George jerks on his arms.
“What the hell are you doing Alex?!”
And it takes a second for the two Georges to fuse into just one. He’s kneeling on the ground, checking the punk on the floor, head whipping back up to glare at Alex occasionally.
“I’m so sorry. He’s…a devil spawn. And my ex.”
The guy is standing now with George trying to support him. He looks Alex in the eyes. For a moment, the air tenses, and Alex really wants him to swing.
If Alex were the type to be attracted to men, he’d think the guy was kind of-gorgeous. If he was sober he’d realize the guy was a mirror image of himself.
The guy turns towards George, pulling his arm out the comforting embrace. “I think I’ll just- Go. Now.”
And he walks out. George turns to watch him disappear out the door.
“He’s not worth it. He doesn’t-“
“Doesn’t what? Like me, respect me?! Alex, I swear-"
But Alex can’t hear anything. Its all just background music to the movement of George’s lips, like some 1920s silent movie.
“Come home with me.”
George's mouth is hanging open now. That burns Alex, but he doesn’t want them to be about that anymore.
“Are you kidding? Are you crazy? You have to be kidding.”
Alex is shaking his head and holding down his stomach with sheer will.
“You’re so drunk. You have no idea what’s going on right now, do you? Look Alex, just go home. Get in bed and-"
Alex pulls his brain together and reaches out to George.
“I’m drunk, but not that drunk. I’m crazy, but I'm crazy about you. I miss you too much to kid about this. I want you home, in OUR home.”
Finis