Truths Left Unsaid
Title: Truths Left Unsaid
Pairing: George/Alex
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,046
Status: Complete
Note: I found this in the mess of fics I have that never got posted. Not sure why it never was. It's been done for ages. Either way, it's up now. Sadly, this may be my last Grey's fic until my muse comes back...if it ever does. My Grey's love has died so much. =(
Summary: Alex Karev isn't a liar, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have his secrets. George figures out the one Alex never wanted him to know.
"Everybody’s got a secret. Just be glad yours is out in the open."
All this time later and those words still echoed in George’s head when he stared at Alex. He remembered how Alex’s eyes had been downcast for it, remembered how he’d wondered what Alex’s secret was.
Alex never told him, never said it in words, but he’d figured it out. There hadn’t been anything special about the night he’d figured it out. They were messing around in Alex’s apartment that night since they were both too smart to do anything together at the hospital. They were naked, lying on Alex’s bed, long since done with their fun. Alex was asleep, completely bare since he’d kicked the covers away. His body always ran a little hotter than usual, nothing major, just a couple degrees, but it was enough that most nights his blankets ended up on the floor.
George’s personal little space heater that he didn’t want to share with anyone, but knew he had to since they were both too scared to be exclusive.
He loved when Alex fell asleep before him. It always gave him time to really look at the other man. He mapped Alex’s body, taking in every curve and crevice between muscles, the scar on the back of his shoulder from a compound fracture in high school, the scar on his hairline that he refused to talk about. He kissed each scar, ran his tongue between every muscle, knowing that he was safe. Alex slept deep after sex and he knew nothing would wake him except for his pager.
He’d moved down Alex’s body that night, blowing softly on the hair leading down from his belly button and smiled when Alex squirmed but didn’t wake. He moved lower, lower...
And stopped.
He stopped and stared, stared hard with scrutinizing eyes at Alex’s right testicle and the small scar, almost invisible. He wondered for a minute if his eyes were playing tricks, but the longer he stared, the more he realized that it was there. A small scar that looked like...
His chance to ponder it had ended mid-thought when Alex’s pager went off and he’d had to move quickly as Alex jumped from the bed and to his dresser. He’d never asked what George had been doing and he never told.
“And Alex, he wrote this essay to get in, this moving, beautiful essay about how his grades weren’t that good during med school because he was suffering from testicular cancer.”
His head had crashed up onto the desk when she said it and he could almost hear the light bulb switch on over his aching head.
“He said he lost a ball. But I’ve seen him naked. He has two mangerines, George, two pouch potatoes. He lied. He’s a liar!”
But he wasn’t.
George leaned back in the computer chair, mind still repeating everything he heard and mind replaying everything he’d seen.
It made sense now, the doctors calling from Mercy West. He’d never paid enough attention to look up the names of the doctor that had been on the machine. Doctor Marshall Brown, an oncologist specializing in testicular cancer. Alex had told him Mercy West had just been calling to fact check a few things. His mouth had been on George’s neck as he spoke and George hadn’t wanted anything more than to just fuck Alex then and there. He hadn’t remembered to ask later and Alex had deleted the message.
He panicked for a second, wondering if Alex’s cancer had come back all that time ago and that he’d hidden it from him. The panic died away as he reminded himself that Alex hadn’t lost any weight, he hadn’t gotten sick at all. There was nothing to suggest that the call had been about anything other than an annual checkup. He let out a relieved sigh, eyes still staring at the photo of Doctor Brown that stood illuminated on the computer screen.
“He has two mangerines, George, two pouch potatoes. He lied. He’s a liar!”
George’s eyes drifted closed, trying hard to remember everything about the scar and...
His eyes came open and a quiet oh escaped his lips. Alex’s right testicle had always felt a little different and Alex hadn’t ever liked him to spend much attention on them. Now it made sense. Alex had been worried that he’d figure it out, figure out that one of his balls weren’t real. Alex had lost it. He’d lost it and they put in a prosthetic. He didn’t know how-he was pretty sure why-Alex had gotten it or afforded it, but it wasn’t his business anymore.
He had no right to go to Alex and ask questions. They’d ended a long time ago, back when he finally pushed too hard to come out and Alex walked away. He regretted it, regretted pushing a topic that he knew Alex wasn’t comfortable with. Alex may hate to lie, he may hate liars, but this was always the one exception to his rule. He refused to come out. George had always figured that something must have happened back in Iowa, but Alex never said and he bit his tongue.
Alex walked past the room he was in, image obscured by the mini-blinds that were only half open. George bit his lip and was out of his chair and calling Alex’s name before he could stop himself. He froze as Alex turned around and he got a good look at the pale skin and shining eyes of his ex.
“Alex, what-”
“What?” Alex snapped. George could tell just from the tone that Alex was set to run. He could tell that Alex was ready to fall apart.
“...Nothing.”
And Alex was off, turned on his heel and walked, almost ran, down the hall. George stared after him, wishing he could have reached out and hugged Alex like he used to, wished he could hold him against his chest and bury his face in his hair, but he couldn’t do that anymore.
He wished he could. He missed Alex.
I love you sat on his lips, unsaid as Alex rounded the corner and disappeared. He’d never been able to tell him.
He didn’t think he’d ever get the chance.
The End
Pairing: George/Alex
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,046
Status: Complete
Note: I found this in the mess of fics I have that never got posted. Not sure why it never was. It's been done for ages. Either way, it's up now. Sadly, this may be my last Grey's fic until my muse comes back...if it ever does. My Grey's love has died so much. =(
Summary: Alex Karev isn't a liar, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have his secrets. George figures out the one Alex never wanted him to know.
"Everybody’s got a secret. Just be glad yours is out in the open."
All this time later and those words still echoed in George’s head when he stared at Alex. He remembered how Alex’s eyes had been downcast for it, remembered how he’d wondered what Alex’s secret was.
Alex never told him, never said it in words, but he’d figured it out. There hadn’t been anything special about the night he’d figured it out. They were messing around in Alex’s apartment that night since they were both too smart to do anything together at the hospital. They were naked, lying on Alex’s bed, long since done with their fun. Alex was asleep, completely bare since he’d kicked the covers away. His body always ran a little hotter than usual, nothing major, just a couple degrees, but it was enough that most nights his blankets ended up on the floor.
George’s personal little space heater that he didn’t want to share with anyone, but knew he had to since they were both too scared to be exclusive.
He loved when Alex fell asleep before him. It always gave him time to really look at the other man. He mapped Alex’s body, taking in every curve and crevice between muscles, the scar on the back of his shoulder from a compound fracture in high school, the scar on his hairline that he refused to talk about. He kissed each scar, ran his tongue between every muscle, knowing that he was safe. Alex slept deep after sex and he knew nothing would wake him except for his pager.
He’d moved down Alex’s body that night, blowing softly on the hair leading down from his belly button and smiled when Alex squirmed but didn’t wake. He moved lower, lower...
And stopped.
He stopped and stared, stared hard with scrutinizing eyes at Alex’s right testicle and the small scar, almost invisible. He wondered for a minute if his eyes were playing tricks, but the longer he stared, the more he realized that it was there. A small scar that looked like...
His chance to ponder it had ended mid-thought when Alex’s pager went off and he’d had to move quickly as Alex jumped from the bed and to his dresser. He’d never asked what George had been doing and he never told.
“And Alex, he wrote this essay to get in, this moving, beautiful essay about how his grades weren’t that good during med school because he was suffering from testicular cancer.”
His head had crashed up onto the desk when she said it and he could almost hear the light bulb switch on over his aching head.
“He said he lost a ball. But I’ve seen him naked. He has two mangerines, George, two pouch potatoes. He lied. He’s a liar!”
But he wasn’t.
George leaned back in the computer chair, mind still repeating everything he heard and mind replaying everything he’d seen.
It made sense now, the doctors calling from Mercy West. He’d never paid enough attention to look up the names of the doctor that had been on the machine. Doctor Marshall Brown, an oncologist specializing in testicular cancer. Alex had told him Mercy West had just been calling to fact check a few things. His mouth had been on George’s neck as he spoke and George hadn’t wanted anything more than to just fuck Alex then and there. He hadn’t remembered to ask later and Alex had deleted the message.
He panicked for a second, wondering if Alex’s cancer had come back all that time ago and that he’d hidden it from him. The panic died away as he reminded himself that Alex hadn’t lost any weight, he hadn’t gotten sick at all. There was nothing to suggest that the call had been about anything other than an annual checkup. He let out a relieved sigh, eyes still staring at the photo of Doctor Brown that stood illuminated on the computer screen.
“He has two mangerines, George, two pouch potatoes. He lied. He’s a liar!”
George’s eyes drifted closed, trying hard to remember everything about the scar and...
His eyes came open and a quiet oh escaped his lips. Alex’s right testicle had always felt a little different and Alex hadn’t ever liked him to spend much attention on them. Now it made sense. Alex had been worried that he’d figure it out, figure out that one of his balls weren’t real. Alex had lost it. He’d lost it and they put in a prosthetic. He didn’t know how-he was pretty sure why-Alex had gotten it or afforded it, but it wasn’t his business anymore.
He had no right to go to Alex and ask questions. They’d ended a long time ago, back when he finally pushed too hard to come out and Alex walked away. He regretted it, regretted pushing a topic that he knew Alex wasn’t comfortable with. Alex may hate to lie, he may hate liars, but this was always the one exception to his rule. He refused to come out. George had always figured that something must have happened back in Iowa, but Alex never said and he bit his tongue.
Alex walked past the room he was in, image obscured by the mini-blinds that were only half open. George bit his lip and was out of his chair and calling Alex’s name before he could stop himself. He froze as Alex turned around and he got a good look at the pale skin and shining eyes of his ex.
“Alex, what-”
“What?” Alex snapped. George could tell just from the tone that Alex was set to run. He could tell that Alex was ready to fall apart.
“...Nothing.”
And Alex was off, turned on his heel and walked, almost ran, down the hall. George stared after him, wishing he could have reached out and hugged Alex like he used to, wished he could hold him against his chest and bury his face in his hair, but he couldn’t do that anymore.
He wished he could. He missed Alex.
I love you sat on his lips, unsaid as Alex rounded the corner and disappeared. He’d never been able to tell him.
He didn’t think he’d ever get the chance.
The End