Ficlet: Stains 8/13 (George/Lee)
Nov. 19th, 2008 06:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seedeeTitle: Stains
Pairing: George/Lee
Prompt: 8/13: R.S.V.P.
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 720
Summary: New Year's Eve turns out to be interesting.
Author's Notes: When I made the first rough draft of this story arc, I planned this chapter to be a light-hearted exchange of owls. It kind of... developed.
Link to Prompt Table: here
previous: 7. don't you dare
They arrived at the flat only moments after apparating and while Lee was still trying to catch his breath, Fred whooped loudly and called George who came in from the kitchen. George looked worried when he took in their appearance, but calmed down when they both seemed unhurt, if a bit shaken.
Now that anxiety and adrenalin were slowly dissipating, Lee felt weary, without energy and he was sweaty. The shirt he wore underneath his jumper was clinging to his back and he still didn't get enough air.
One of the twins' armchairs was right behind him and he sat down. Fred told George what had happened, and Lee just listened. George asked lots of questions, there was something in his voice that Lee couldn't quite identify.
Lee shifted in the chair. His back was wet now, but he didn't care enough to muster the energy and lift his arm to reach back. He was too tired; tired enough that his hands and feet were numb. There couldn't be enough oxygen in the room, Lee felt light-headed. He leaned his head against the back of the chair and smiled. The feeling wasn't unpleasant. He was a bit cold, though, wondered if there was a blanket somewhere.
Fred and George were plotting the next steps, talking about what to do with Lee, now that he had lost his hiding place. He couldn't stay here, Lee knew that. He just hoped that they'd let him rest for a while, until the tiredness that seemed to have reached every cell of his body was gone. And maybe take a shower to get rid of the stickiness.
Lee worried as his back seemed to get wetter, and he didn't know if the thick jumper he wore was already soaked through. He didn't want to leave any stains on the armchair. A quiet voice in the very back of his mind tried to tell him that the jumper or the chair wasn't the biggest problem, and that he should do something, preferably now. He couldn't remember, though, what he was supposed to do, as his concentration and focus seemed to slip away from him whenever he tried to hold onto them.
He closed his eyes and the darkness was comforting. He still couldn't feel his hands or feet, come to think of it, he couldn't feel a lot right now, but he still smiled. His friends were talking, and there was no pain. For a fleeting moment Lee was startled, as he didn't know why he had expected pain in the first place. The moment was over in a second, though.
"Come on, Lee, no falling asleep, this is a celebration. You can sleep next year."
There was a pause and Lee would have opened his eyes if it hadn't been far too much effort and if he hadn't known that the light would be bright enough to hurt.
"Lee?" asked the voice again. It sounded like George, but Lee wasn't sure. And how odd was that?
"Lee?" Yeah, it was George, and he sounded worried. Lee smiled some more and hoped they would leave him. He just wanted to sleep. They could celebrate tomorrow.
"What's up with him? He looks like shit."
"Dunno." Lee heard rustling and then someone was touching him, squeezing his shoulder. "You still here? Say something."
A hand was gently cradling his cheek and Lee sighed at the warmth against his cold skin.
"Fuck it!" George's voice was too loud now and Lee tried to open his eyes, but his lids only fluttered before they fell shut again. The warmth was gone and for a moment he thought he was going to be sick as his head fell to the side. But the darkness was there and it surrounded Lee like the blanket he'd been waiting for. The words were reaching him from far away, and he hardly even registered that someone was tugging at him, trying to shift his body.
"Fred! He's bleeding." There was more tugging, more shifting and a second set of hands. "There's fucking blood. Lots of it." The words echoed in Lee's head, even though he didn't grasp their meaning. It was the last thing he heard before he finally fell asleep.
next: 9. splat
Pairing: George/Lee
Prompt: 8/13: R.S.V.P.
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 720
Summary: New Year's Eve turns out to be interesting.
Author's Notes: When I made the first rough draft of this story arc, I planned this chapter to be a light-hearted exchange of owls. It kind of... developed.
Link to Prompt Table: here
previous: 7. don't you dare
They arrived at the flat only moments after apparating and while Lee was still trying to catch his breath, Fred whooped loudly and called George who came in from the kitchen. George looked worried when he took in their appearance, but calmed down when they both seemed unhurt, if a bit shaken.
Now that anxiety and adrenalin were slowly dissipating, Lee felt weary, without energy and he was sweaty. The shirt he wore underneath his jumper was clinging to his back and he still didn't get enough air.
One of the twins' armchairs was right behind him and he sat down. Fred told George what had happened, and Lee just listened. George asked lots of questions, there was something in his voice that Lee couldn't quite identify.
Lee shifted in the chair. His back was wet now, but he didn't care enough to muster the energy and lift his arm to reach back. He was too tired; tired enough that his hands and feet were numb. There couldn't be enough oxygen in the room, Lee felt light-headed. He leaned his head against the back of the chair and smiled. The feeling wasn't unpleasant. He was a bit cold, though, wondered if there was a blanket somewhere.
Fred and George were plotting the next steps, talking about what to do with Lee, now that he had lost his hiding place. He couldn't stay here, Lee knew that. He just hoped that they'd let him rest for a while, until the tiredness that seemed to have reached every cell of his body was gone. And maybe take a shower to get rid of the stickiness.
Lee worried as his back seemed to get wetter, and he didn't know if the thick jumper he wore was already soaked through. He didn't want to leave any stains on the armchair. A quiet voice in the very back of his mind tried to tell him that the jumper or the chair wasn't the biggest problem, and that he should do something, preferably now. He couldn't remember, though, what he was supposed to do, as his concentration and focus seemed to slip away from him whenever he tried to hold onto them.
He closed his eyes and the darkness was comforting. He still couldn't feel his hands or feet, come to think of it, he couldn't feel a lot right now, but he still smiled. His friends were talking, and there was no pain. For a fleeting moment Lee was startled, as he didn't know why he had expected pain in the first place. The moment was over in a second, though.
"Come on, Lee, no falling asleep, this is a celebration. You can sleep next year."
There was a pause and Lee would have opened his eyes if it hadn't been far too much effort and if he hadn't known that the light would be bright enough to hurt.
"Lee?" asked the voice again. It sounded like George, but Lee wasn't sure. And how odd was that?
"Lee?" Yeah, it was George, and he sounded worried. Lee smiled some more and hoped they would leave him. He just wanted to sleep. They could celebrate tomorrow.
"What's up with him? He looks like shit."
"Dunno." Lee heard rustling and then someone was touching him, squeezing his shoulder. "You still here? Say something."
A hand was gently cradling his cheek and Lee sighed at the warmth against his cold skin.
"Fuck it!" George's voice was too loud now and Lee tried to open his eyes, but his lids only fluttered before they fell shut again. The warmth was gone and for a moment he thought he was going to be sick as his head fell to the side. But the darkness was there and it surrounded Lee like the blanket he'd been waiting for. The words were reaching him from far away, and he hardly even registered that someone was tugging at him, trying to shift his body.
"Fred! He's bleeding." There was more tugging, more shifting and a second set of hands. "There's fucking blood. Lots of it." The words echoed in Lee's head, even though he didn't grasp their meaning. It was the last thing he heard before he finally fell asleep.
next: 9. splat
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on 2010-04-02 12:37 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-04-05 04:13 pm (UTC)