Not Your Average Love Story--For Strifechaos
Other influences: Ray Lamontagne’s Lesson’s Learned and You Can Bring Me Flowers
***
Nothing starts on purpose. Every move between the two of them is like some cosmic accident gone horribly right.
Alex really was planning to punch Bambi in the head when Izzie told him about George’s stunts earlier in the day. George was such a sanctimonious prick who always thought his moral code was shinier and purer than the rest of them.
Alex really fucking hated George most of the time.
But then he runs up the stairs and maybe he was yelling for “O’Malley get your punk ass down here!” But really it wasn’t like he was going to do any real damage. The chief would kill him.
Only problem was O’Malley wasn’t in his room. Instead he was curled up in a red faced ball on the bathroom floor crying like a bitch.
Alex really fucking hated crying.
He hated O’Malley crying ten times more.
“Go away.” George speaks with a kind of darkness that Alex is more familiar with than he likes to admit most days.
Suddenly he’s twelve in a bathroom like this one, small and supposedly comfy, except that bathroom isn’t a clean and the man on the floor is covered in blood and puke and sweat instead of tears.
Alex really fucking hated George most of the time.
“Fuck you O’Malley. No one feels sorry for you.”
George snorts, curls in on himself further, shakes his head and then he stands.
“You’re supposed to be the nice one.”
George is hunched over the sink staring into swollen red sockets and once again Alex is off in memory land.
“What if I can’t?” It sounds more troubled then someone as pure as George should know how to sound.
Alex grumbles. “There’s a long list of shit that you can’t do Bambi. Fighting and fucking come to mind. But being nice. Ha. That’s who you are.”
George whips around and Alex thinks he might get the fight he came looking for after all.
“You don’t know shit about me. You don’t have any clue of who I-“
“Spare me princess. You’ve always thought that you’re dad could move mountains. He would never die. There would always be at least one person to protect you, to hold you too old ass when the world gets you down, someone to make sure you never have to become a real adult.”
George’s hands are clinched into fists and Alex really thinks that O’Malley might hit him. The giddiness churning in his stomach at the thought is rather easy to ignore.
“Fuck you.”
Alex snorts and continues, “But now you know he is human. He makes mistakes, he gets sick, and one day he could di-“
George’s hand lashes out faster than Alex expected and he almost doesn’t block, which would have left him with some rather unpretty bruises. Alex might like the occasional tumble with Bambi in dark corners and slap boxing matches in the wood-but he’s not willing to risk his face to make sure that Bambi’s okay.
Alex blocks George’s punch and the quick fist is more of a programmed reaction than any real malice towards O’Malley.
“Shut up!!”
And there is that anger. The kind that boils under so many layers of the everyday person’s skin rarely tapped. This anger has lurked around the edges of George’s psyche for the past few weeks at least.
It’s that moment when the fight can either turn into one of those touching moments that George can learn from or into an all out brawl that leads to Alex thoroughly kicking his ass.
The look in George’s eyes tells Alex that he’s leaning towards the second.
“Get a grip O’Malley.”
Alex lowers both their hands.
George breathes heavily like he wants to hold onto the anger. It’s probably the only thing keeping him from crumbling to the floor again.
“God.”
And then the damn breaks again and Alex is reaching to pull him up once more.
***
Of course Alex would try to make it out to be about him. He always wants everything to be about him.
As if George needed Alex to rescue him that night.
And so what if George was crying a little when he had come in. And so what if Alex felt small tremors wracking over George’s tiny frame for a couple of minutes near the end. It’s not like George just collapsed into his arms. Not for more than like five minutes.
“Aren’t you supposed to be down stairs trying to get into Izzie’s pants?” George separates himself with a gruff comment and a shrug of his shoulders.
Alex chuckles humorlessly, “You are some piece of work Bambi.”
They’re still closer than George is comfortable with, but he doesn’t want to step back. Doesn’t want to seem intimidated by Alex or the closeness. But he can smell Alex’s cologne and the faint odor of liquor on his breath. And fuck they are just to close.
“Sorry Alex. You don’t get to play nurse to me tonight.”
To be honest that comment didn’t have the sexual undertones in George’s minds that it does once it passes from his lips. But all Alex does is smirk and lean closer.
George refuses to move because fucking Alex is always trying to get in his face, in his mind, in his-
George stopped backing down to people like Karev after that stupid camping trip and the even dumber slap boxing match that almost got Joe’s boyfriend killed.
It’s a stalemate to see who will break first Alex who seems ready to climb inside George’s skin and make himself at home. Or George who looks like he could tear Alex to pieces right here in the bathroom and not give a fuck three minutes later.
Of course Alex makes the first move. He’s always so fucking pushy, it doesn’t even surprise George.
The softness of Alex’s lips does manage to shock him a little though.
But then the fucker bites him. Just nips at his lower lip, quickly darting in and then pulling away. Taking skin with him. Causing blood to well up.
“You fucking-“
Of course George swung at him. The dude bit him!
Alex just dances back a little, away from George, and up against the door. Blocking any attempts to exit the situation.
George comes forward again. But Alex has been fighting for longer and a lot nastier than George has. It’s not really surprising that he out maneuvers him.
But then George is pressed up against the sink. One of Alex’s hands is holding both of his behind his back. The other is pressing his head up and into the powerful kiss.
George kind of grunts. And bucks. And rubs his hardness against Alex’s thigh.
“A piece of work Bambi.”
And Alex just kind of chuckles and grinds his thigh in between George’s legs in that way that makes the groans of pleasure almost inevitable.
“Fuck you.”
Alex releases hands and steps back a little. Like he’s waiting to see if George will take another swing or not.
George glares at him, all angry and intense, the only emotions he seems capable of anymore. And he shoves Alex. Up against the door and straddles his thigh. And shoves his hands up under Alex’s sweater and his tongue into his mouth.
***
Alex always wants to take credit for how they started. And when he tells it everything is all romantic with the handsome hero swooping in to save the day. But George is more honest about it. Because there were a couple of seconds when Alex was staring at him, when his back was pressed up against that sink. Just a few moments, when even George didn’t know what he was going to do.
He guesses now that he’s made the right decision.
After three months of secret meetings and crazy guiltshamehappinesslove, George is happy that he chose to kiss Alex because honestly even if the guy is the pushiest, most infuriating person in the world-he loves George and challenges George and makes George happy.
Which Izzie, Izzie who was supposed to hate him, keeps saying is a good thing. And after months of not believing in anything or anyone-George is ready to give this a shot.