A Picture and a Sad Drabble

[harp]

The following drabble is about the two characters, but is not related to the picture. The above picture is of a much happier, much later time in their relationship.


Title: I Know You Aren't, but What am I?

He felt small there on the bed, huddling defensively in a corner, trying to put as much distance between himself and George as he possibly could. George was silent, staring with wide eyed disbelief, staring so nakedly that Conor would have been shamed to cover the place where the other boy had gone so recklessly diving with his hand. It was wrong, all wrong. Why hadn't George listened to him? He'd said wait, God Damn it! Wait! And now...

"Conor, you're-"

"I am not!" The words puncturing George's before he could finish. If he did want to finish.

"You're--"

"Don't you dare fucking say it!"

"But you're a-"

Tears were forming in the corner of Conor's eyes as George moved in closer. He wanted to kick at him, to tell him to stay back.

"I'm not," he shouted desperately, voice choked with emotion, "I am not!"
Silently, George was taking his hand, yanking it forward and pressing it towards his own crotch, never once breaking off that penetrative gaze.
"I know you aren't," he whispered, "Neither am I."

And, to Conor's surprise, he was right.

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[harpsi-fizz.livejournal.com]

You're a love, Shantari <3