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Dec. 17th, 2006 04:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fics_by_mapleFor my ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
50_smutlets claim, that belongs in my Within You, Without You universe.
Title: The Glass Onion
Author: Maple
Pairing: George/Lee
Word Count: 990
Rating: R
My Table
~^~
Lee still had wound dressing on his right arm, which trembled if he tried to use it. His right leg was wrapped in plaster. He didn’t speak much beyond an occasional whisper because of the damage the curse had done and being in a coma for over a month hadn’t helped.
But he would live, and he would recover, in time.
George was there every day, trading off shifts with Lee’s mum. He helped feed, shave and wash him. Although in his dreams, he still battled with his yearnings for his friend, during the day he was strictly proper.
And Lee got stronger.
But one morning, Mrs. Jordan took him by the elbow outside of Lee’s room.
“George, my dear, you’re doing well looking after Lee. I really appreciate all you’ve done for him.”
“It’s no trouble, Mrs. Jordan. In my family we brothers look after each other. Lee’s as good as.”
“That’s sweet, dear.” She smiled kindly, but worried her lip. George’s stomach flopped. He wondered if he’d betrayed his heart. If she knew the inappropriate things that he thought about her son, and he thought he’d been so careful.
“The thing is, George. I’ve never mollycoddled my boy. I’ve had to work hard all my life and I taught Lee to do the same.”
This was true, Lee never complained about working hard.
“Well, lad, I’m afraid you’re just doing too much for him.”
“Pardon, me?” George suddenly felt even worse.
“You’re doing too much. Lee needs to start doing more for himself. He’s strong enough to get back on the flight to recovery now, but he’ll never get better if we do everything for him, will he?”
“No,” George answered softly. He felt very low, thinking she was going to ask him to stop coming around so often.
“So I was hoping maybe you could motivate him to do more,” she suggested, making George’s heart flip. “If I do it, I’m just being his nattering old mum, but he wants to please you, George. He doesn’t want to disappoint you.”
Lee smiled as George entered and tried to sit up in bed, struggling from pushing his weight with one hand.
“Mornin’, mate,” George said. A familiar comfort settled into his blood. “Here, lemme help.” Reaching underneath Lee’s arms, he lifted him to sit up.
The support, turned into a welcoming embrace. It lingered, George knew it did, and he thought of letting go, but Lee was holding onto him with his one good arm just as tightly.
“You sleep ok last night?” George asked. He closed his eyes and turned the side of his face just slightly to rub against Lee’s now closely shorn hair.
Lee nodded, with a slight hum and George thought he could feel Lee’s lips press against his neck briefly.
Or maybe that was just his hopeful heart confusing him?
George cleared his throat and took breath as he opened a bag and took out Butterbeer, Firewhisky, sweets, and Quidditch magazines and placed them on the table at the end of the bed.
Lee’s eyes went wide, and he held his palm upward.
“This? It’s all for you, mate. Whatever you want.”
Lee smiled – such a sweet smile too.
“You just have to tell me what you want,” he added, using his well-practiced 'do or die' expression. But he was kicking himself on the inside.
Lee frowned and huffed at him, pointing at George’s head and at then his own throat.
“Yeah, I know. It’s difficult for you to talk. But that’s all it is, you know, difficult. But you can do it, man. Just tell me what you want.”
Lee took a breath as if he was going to try – try to tell him off maybe, but just closed his mouth in exasperation instead.
“Come on, Lee,” George pleaded with more sincerity. “Just one word, something. Anything!”
Lee folded his arms. A slight pout on his face, his lower lip protruding, which drove George mad.
“There’s got to be something here you want. Or anything else in the whole world, you just have to say it and I’ll get it for you.”
Lee looked at him hard in the eyes for a moment. There was a hint of sadness in them that nearly broke George’s heart, but Lee didn’t waver. Instead, he sighed and pointed.
George looked down at the table in front of him. “What? The Butterbeer? It’s yours! Just say it – just say ‘butter.’ Or ‘beer.’ That’ll do. You’ve got to start talking again.”
Lee looked annoyed again and threw the blankets off his legs.
“What’re you doing?” George asked.
Lee snorted, shaking his head and he used his left arm to help maneuver his bandaged right leg off the side of the bed and then swung his other down.
“Hang on, Lee. That leg’s not ready to be walked on yet.”
Lee gestured dramatically at the table of George’s proffered goods.
“You don’t have to come get it yourself. One thing at a time, all right? Just say it.”
This wasn’t going at all according to plan. He moved closer just as Lee was pushing himself to stand.
“No, you stubborn fucking git! Can’t you just say it?”
Lee teetered on his one good leg and fell forward, but George caught him, holding Lee close to his chest.
“Just tell me what you want, please?” George begged, knowing he was holding him closer and tighter and with more feeling than he should, but he couldn’t help himself.
Lee wrapped his healthy arm around George’s shoulders and there was no mistaking that he was holding George too. Not just hanging onto him for support, but holding him.
“Just one word, Lee. Anything you want, anything. Just say it,” George whispered into his ear.
Lee tilted his head and took a breath, making a strangled sound.
“That’s it. Please try. You can have whatever you want.”
Lee cleared his throat, looking tired and terrified.
“Y – You.”
~^~
Thank you for reading!
50_smutlets claim, that belongs in my Within You, Without You universe.Title: The Glass Onion
Author: Maple
Pairing: George/Lee
Word Count: 990
Rating: R
My Table
~^~
Lee still had wound dressing on his right arm, which trembled if he tried to use it. His right leg was wrapped in plaster. He didn’t speak much beyond an occasional whisper because of the damage the curse had done and being in a coma for over a month hadn’t helped.
But he would live, and he would recover, in time.
George was there every day, trading off shifts with Lee’s mum. He helped feed, shave and wash him. Although in his dreams, he still battled with his yearnings for his friend, during the day he was strictly proper.
And Lee got stronger.
But one morning, Mrs. Jordan took him by the elbow outside of Lee’s room.
“George, my dear, you’re doing well looking after Lee. I really appreciate all you’ve done for him.”
“It’s no trouble, Mrs. Jordan. In my family we brothers look after each other. Lee’s as good as.”
“That’s sweet, dear.” She smiled kindly, but worried her lip. George’s stomach flopped. He wondered if he’d betrayed his heart. If she knew the inappropriate things that he thought about her son, and he thought he’d been so careful.
“The thing is, George. I’ve never mollycoddled my boy. I’ve had to work hard all my life and I taught Lee to do the same.”
This was true, Lee never complained about working hard.
“Well, lad, I’m afraid you’re just doing too much for him.”
“Pardon, me?” George suddenly felt even worse.
“You’re doing too much. Lee needs to start doing more for himself. He’s strong enough to get back on the flight to recovery now, but he’ll never get better if we do everything for him, will he?”
“No,” George answered softly. He felt very low, thinking she was going to ask him to stop coming around so often.
“So I was hoping maybe you could motivate him to do more,” she suggested, making George’s heart flip. “If I do it, I’m just being his nattering old mum, but he wants to please you, George. He doesn’t want to disappoint you.”
Lee smiled as George entered and tried to sit up in bed, struggling from pushing his weight with one hand.
“Mornin’, mate,” George said. A familiar comfort settled into his blood. “Here, lemme help.” Reaching underneath Lee’s arms, he lifted him to sit up.
The support, turned into a welcoming embrace. It lingered, George knew it did, and he thought of letting go, but Lee was holding onto him with his one good arm just as tightly.
“You sleep ok last night?” George asked. He closed his eyes and turned the side of his face just slightly to rub against Lee’s now closely shorn hair.
Lee nodded, with a slight hum and George thought he could feel Lee’s lips press against his neck briefly.
Or maybe that was just his hopeful heart confusing him?
George cleared his throat and took breath as he opened a bag and took out Butterbeer, Firewhisky, sweets, and Quidditch magazines and placed them on the table at the end of the bed.
Lee’s eyes went wide, and he held his palm upward.
“This? It’s all for you, mate. Whatever you want.”
Lee smiled – such a sweet smile too.
“You just have to tell me what you want,” he added, using his well-practiced 'do or die' expression. But he was kicking himself on the inside.
Lee frowned and huffed at him, pointing at George’s head and at then his own throat.
“Yeah, I know. It’s difficult for you to talk. But that’s all it is, you know, difficult. But you can do it, man. Just tell me what you want.”
Lee took a breath as if he was going to try – try to tell him off maybe, but just closed his mouth in exasperation instead.
“Come on, Lee,” George pleaded with more sincerity. “Just one word, something. Anything!”
Lee folded his arms. A slight pout on his face, his lower lip protruding, which drove George mad.
“There’s got to be something here you want. Or anything else in the whole world, you just have to say it and I’ll get it for you.”
Lee looked at him hard in the eyes for a moment. There was a hint of sadness in them that nearly broke George’s heart, but Lee didn’t waver. Instead, he sighed and pointed.
George looked down at the table in front of him. “What? The Butterbeer? It’s yours! Just say it – just say ‘butter.’ Or ‘beer.’ That’ll do. You’ve got to start talking again.”
Lee looked annoyed again and threw the blankets off his legs.
“What’re you doing?” George asked.
Lee snorted, shaking his head and he used his left arm to help maneuver his bandaged right leg off the side of the bed and then swung his other down.
“Hang on, Lee. That leg’s not ready to be walked on yet.”
Lee gestured dramatically at the table of George’s proffered goods.
“You don’t have to come get it yourself. One thing at a time, all right? Just say it.”
This wasn’t going at all according to plan. He moved closer just as Lee was pushing himself to stand.
“No, you stubborn fucking git! Can’t you just say it?”
Lee teetered on his one good leg and fell forward, but George caught him, holding Lee close to his chest.
“Just tell me what you want, please?” George begged, knowing he was holding him closer and tighter and with more feeling than he should, but he couldn’t help himself.
Lee wrapped his healthy arm around George’s shoulders and there was no mistaking that he was holding George too. Not just hanging onto him for support, but holding him.
“Just one word, Lee. Anything you want, anything. Just say it,” George whispered into his ear.
Lee tilted his head and took a breath, making a strangled sound.
“That’s it. Please try. You can have whatever you want.”
Lee cleared his throat, looking tired and terrified.
“Y – You.”
~^~
Thank you for reading!
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no subject
Date: 2006-12-20 07:51 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading!