I will be waiting
Title: Everything is right
Pairing: GA, George/Izzie
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, I am only responsible for their fictional corruption.
Word Count: 1078
Summary: Unexpected but welcome. George makes a decision and goes with it.
Spoilers: Up to the present.
A/N: Um....this was written for cynthia_arrow for her birthday. She wanted "assertive George in the bedroom." (HAPPY HAPPY). And posted tonight for my girl Becs who is a new convert to the wonder that is GA drama. Hope both of you like.
To say George surprises her is an understatement. To say Izzie saw this coming - would be a lie.
George coming to her, telling her he made his choice.
Izzie isn't sure what she expected. Wonders sometimes if she ever really let herself consider it at all.
It was supposed to be a mistake, their actions skewed by too much alcohol and not enough thinking. He wanted to pretend it never happened.
Now here he is, saying he needs her, saying he wants her.
This wasn't supposed to happen again. This George standing in her doorway, flooring her with those puppy dog eyes, telling her to take her clothes off.
Telling, not asking.
It takes her breath away.
The look in his eyes is not completely unfamiliar. Izzie remembers. George pushing her toward the bed. George's strong hands leading her to lie flat, his lips scorching a path of pleasure both steady and sure.
At the time, Izzie gave credit to the bourbon. It's with a little shock that she realizes George did it all on his own.
"Iz..." he starts, when her hands still, crossed at the hemline of her top.
And Izzie thinks, this is when he'll stammer. Here he's going to stumble over some assurance. Tell her that they don't have to do this, that they can wait, maybe even say he thinks they should.
But what George does instead is step closer and repeat the order. "Off."
Face so serious, like his life depends on it.
Izzie doesn't know what to make of this man in front of her, the one who looks like her best friend, but isn't really acting like him. The one who feels like her best friend when he closes the gap completely and runs his hand through her hair - just infinitely better, infinitely bolder.
George pushes the strands that have fallen in Izzie's face back behind her ear, a useless gesture when she finally surrenders and pulls the shirt over her head.
"Pants." George states then, like maybe Izzie can't figure out what's next.
He's watching, closely, close enough to pass a test on the subject as her thumb pops the button through the hole. As fingers that almost shake guide the zipper down. As her hips shimmy so the tight denim can slide down thigh, past knees going weak, all the way to the floor.
Like any redblooded, modern woman, Izzie likes a man who knows what he wants. She's never had a problem with fast and furious, two adjectives she'd used to describe their first time together.
Like any born romantic she likes slow and sweet too, something else George showed her that night, after, when they gave in a second time with her arms pointing toward the sky and slow smiles that left her warm and fuzzy to her toes.
This is a mix of the two, Izzie can't help but like the best.
George's quiet observation, the need readily recognizable in his gaze.
It makes her hotter than she's been in forever.
When Izzie goes for black silk panties, George touches her for the first time, stopping the movement with his fingers around her wrist.
His voice is just a whisper. "Bra first."
Izzie can't help her smile, can't help feeling a sense of heady power at the way George bites his lip when he drops her hand and settles the now empty palm on her hip.
Her fingers find the hooks behind her back, gasping when suddenly George pulls her against him. It takes an awkward maneuver to get the garment flung across the room when the first sign of exposed flesh has him going in to taste.
A slow swipe of tongue.
George has beautiful lips, talented lips, the best lips she's ever felt. That's something else that's the same, something else she remembers, those greedy licks and sucks, propelling her unto the soft mattress, toward direct contrast with the hard body now on top, in control.
More, Izzie wants to demand but lets George have this, lets him lead. It was his choice. His decision. She let him go and he came back. Tonight he can make the rules, tomorrow she'll break them.
He's taking her lips in a kiss that gives her no choice but to comply, wrap both legs around him and arch.
He's rocking into her, fingers fighting their way between impossibly close bodies to find her wet, way beyond ready from all the foreplay.
The sound she makes is a moan, a whimper, caused by the lightening fast jolt that starts her quick downward spiral. Izzie is calling George's name, coming, before she can even think to get his clothes off.
"George," She pants falling apart and settling, "You too, no fair. If you dish it out, you have to take it."
That smile again, and then he's lifting so she can reach.
Jeans first. And somehow he's back to being her goofy best friend when they both realize at exactly the same time that he still has his shoes on. Pants around his ankles, losing his balance, Izzie gets him under her on the bed, exactly where she wants him.
It's laughter and passion all at the same time, neither one diminishing the other, and Izzie doesn't know what she did to get this lucky.
"Let me take care of that." She offers, shifting so she can reach his shoe laces.
He's watching again, enjoying the show.
Izzie makes it slow, pulling at the fabric easily down, like they have all the time in the world. Crawling on top of George when they finally join hers on the floor.
She keeps it slow when he tries to remove his boxers, stops him with a shake of her head by stealing a move from him and demanding his shirt.
George follows directions as well as he gives them, making his hair stand on in with static in a flurry of movement.
"Izzie?" George asks, poised, ready to take the next step, again. This time with the certainty that it is a beginning neither one will want to take back.
To say that he surprises her is an understatement - leaning down to kiss her with everything he has.
To say she saw this coming would be a lie - hearing George whisper I love you like he's never loved anyone else
But there is nothing wrong, in fact everything is right, with unexpected.
Pairing: GA, George/Izzie
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, I am only responsible for their fictional corruption.
Word Count: 1078
Summary: Unexpected but welcome. George makes a decision and goes with it.
Spoilers: Up to the present.
A/N: Um....this was written for cynthia_arrow for her birthday. She wanted "assertive George in the bedroom." (HAPPY HAPPY). And posted tonight for my girl Becs who is a new convert to the wonder that is GA drama. Hope both of you like.
To say George surprises her is an understatement. To say Izzie saw this coming - would be a lie.
George coming to her, telling her he made his choice.
Izzie isn't sure what she expected. Wonders sometimes if she ever really let herself consider it at all.
It was supposed to be a mistake, their actions skewed by too much alcohol and not enough thinking. He wanted to pretend it never happened.
Now here he is, saying he needs her, saying he wants her.
This wasn't supposed to happen again. This George standing in her doorway, flooring her with those puppy dog eyes, telling her to take her clothes off.
Telling, not asking.
It takes her breath away.
The look in his eyes is not completely unfamiliar. Izzie remembers. George pushing her toward the bed. George's strong hands leading her to lie flat, his lips scorching a path of pleasure both steady and sure.
At the time, Izzie gave credit to the bourbon. It's with a little shock that she realizes George did it all on his own.
"Iz..." he starts, when her hands still, crossed at the hemline of her top.
And Izzie thinks, this is when he'll stammer. Here he's going to stumble over some assurance. Tell her that they don't have to do this, that they can wait, maybe even say he thinks they should.
But what George does instead is step closer and repeat the order. "Off."
Face so serious, like his life depends on it.
Izzie doesn't know what to make of this man in front of her, the one who looks like her best friend, but isn't really acting like him. The one who feels like her best friend when he closes the gap completely and runs his hand through her hair - just infinitely better, infinitely bolder.
George pushes the strands that have fallen in Izzie's face back behind her ear, a useless gesture when she finally surrenders and pulls the shirt over her head.
"Pants." George states then, like maybe Izzie can't figure out what's next.
He's watching, closely, close enough to pass a test on the subject as her thumb pops the button through the hole. As fingers that almost shake guide the zipper down. As her hips shimmy so the tight denim can slide down thigh, past knees going weak, all the way to the floor.
Like any redblooded, modern woman, Izzie likes a man who knows what he wants. She's never had a problem with fast and furious, two adjectives she'd used to describe their first time together.
Like any born romantic she likes slow and sweet too, something else George showed her that night, after, when they gave in a second time with her arms pointing toward the sky and slow smiles that left her warm and fuzzy to her toes.
This is a mix of the two, Izzie can't help but like the best.
George's quiet observation, the need readily recognizable in his gaze.
It makes her hotter than she's been in forever.
When Izzie goes for black silk panties, George touches her for the first time, stopping the movement with his fingers around her wrist.
His voice is just a whisper. "Bra first."
Izzie can't help her smile, can't help feeling a sense of heady power at the way George bites his lip when he drops her hand and settles the now empty palm on her hip.
Her fingers find the hooks behind her back, gasping when suddenly George pulls her against him. It takes an awkward maneuver to get the garment flung across the room when the first sign of exposed flesh has him going in to taste.
A slow swipe of tongue.
George has beautiful lips, talented lips, the best lips she's ever felt. That's something else that's the same, something else she remembers, those greedy licks and sucks, propelling her unto the soft mattress, toward direct contrast with the hard body now on top, in control.
More, Izzie wants to demand but lets George have this, lets him lead. It was his choice. His decision. She let him go and he came back. Tonight he can make the rules, tomorrow she'll break them.
He's taking her lips in a kiss that gives her no choice but to comply, wrap both legs around him and arch.
He's rocking into her, fingers fighting their way between impossibly close bodies to find her wet, way beyond ready from all the foreplay.
The sound she makes is a moan, a whimper, caused by the lightening fast jolt that starts her quick downward spiral. Izzie is calling George's name, coming, before she can even think to get his clothes off.
"George," She pants falling apart and settling, "You too, no fair. If you dish it out, you have to take it."
That smile again, and then he's lifting so she can reach.
Jeans first. And somehow he's back to being her goofy best friend when they both realize at exactly the same time that he still has his shoes on. Pants around his ankles, losing his balance, Izzie gets him under her on the bed, exactly where she wants him.
It's laughter and passion all at the same time, neither one diminishing the other, and Izzie doesn't know what she did to get this lucky.
"Let me take care of that." She offers, shifting so she can reach his shoe laces.
He's watching again, enjoying the show.
Izzie makes it slow, pulling at the fabric easily down, like they have all the time in the world. Crawling on top of George when they finally join hers on the floor.
She keeps it slow when he tries to remove his boxers, stops him with a shake of her head by stealing a move from him and demanding his shirt.
George follows directions as well as he gives them, making his hair stand on in with static in a flurry of movement.
"Izzie?" George asks, poised, ready to take the next step, again. This time with the certainty that it is a beginning neither one will want to take back.
To say that he surprises her is an understatement - leaning down to kiss her with everything he has.
To say she saw this coming would be a lie - hearing George whisper I love you like he's never loved anyone else
But there is nothing wrong, in fact everything is right, with unexpected.