EIGHTH WONDER; memeulous & imallexx

21; longing

im avoiding getting ready to go out in an hour at the time of posting this by writing bc i am.....Anxious babey!!!

not posted on ao3 bc it feels too short lol

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George doesn't wish for many things. The only thing he actively does wish for is monetisation, if he's honest, but he doesn't find himself thinking 'I wish I had this' or 'I wish that would happen' very often.

It's all he can think of lately though. George wishes Alex was here, at home, in England.

George wishes Alex was here under the covers with him, in a bed that feels too big for one person when it's so used to having two.

He craves the touch of nimble fingers pressing into his sides, his thighs, his face.

He longs for sleep-tousled hair and dazed steel blue eyes being the first thing he sees that day, intertwined hands and legs the first thing he feels.

He aches for kisses in the dark, kisses against the counter, kisses that leave them desperate and clawing at clothing that they can never remove quick enough.

He pines to feel the rush in his chest when he sees Alex, even at a passing glance, hands going cold and breath stolen directly from his lungs.

But Alex isn't here for any of those things, too far away in America and in a different time, leaving George alone in his bed to listen to the whir of the air conditioning. Maybe if he thinks hard enough and closes his eyes, he can still feel the phantom warmth beside him, against George's side while hands slot perfectly into the dip of his waist.

That feels childish though, as does looking at the green dot next to Alex's name on Facebook, indicating he's online. George knows he's been talking to James from their Twitter conversation, and the hesitance of actually messaging Alex is heavy in his chest – even if he is George's boyfriend.

He knows Alex needed this break before the rush of summer washes over them, but George gives into the early morning delusion that he wishes Alex hadn't gone on the trip, or that he at least went with him. It's childish again, and George holds his breath as he clicks on his and Alex's conversation.

There's the fear that Alex won't pick up, preoccupied with something else, too busy for George. But it's whisked away in a flurry of elation when the call connects, breath held as he waits for Alex to say something.

"George?" Alex says finally, questioning and amused.

"Hi," George finds himself rushing out in one breath, "Hi."

Alex laughs softly, sounding closer to a giggle than anything, and it fills George up like he's been deprived of it for months. "Hi," He answers back, the distant sound of chatter fading as a door closes. "You alright?"

"Yeah," George nods up at his ceiling, lost in how real Alex sounds, even over the phone. "Yeah, you?"

"Just peachy, mate." Alex hums, "Can't sleep?"

"I guess," George swallows and sits up in his bed, wiping his eyes, "I miss you." He mumbles the confession. Some part of him hopes that Alex heard, but another part wishes more than anything that he didn't.

Alex coos at him and chuckles, laughing more when George groans into his palms, the burn of embarrassment hot beneath his fingers. "You miss me? Is this your weird attempt at getting me to have phone sex with you?"

"Maybe it is, you don't know." George bites back, because he refuses to let the embarrassment eat him alive like this.

"Aww, your right hand not enough for another few days?" Alex hums, teasing amusement gracing his voice. "I didn't know you'd miss me that much, George."

"Shut up," George scoffs, "I wish I hadn't called you now, should've just gone to sleep."

"But you can't sleep without me there," Alex tells him, smug and confident. George wishes he was here, only to wipe the smile off his face. "So you called me."

"I did," George agrees, "And you answered." He says, like it's an accomplishment.

"I did," Alex laughs, "As perceptive as always, my love."

"Fuck off." George snaps at him, face going hot again. Even if he knows it's a joking name Alex has given him, it makes a shy embarrassment creep under his skin anyway. "I'm gonna hang up."

Alex hums, unconvinced. George doesn't hang up.

"Do you actually miss me?" Alex asks.

George swallows and traces an imaginary pattern into his sheets. His sheets, too big for one person. His bed, which he's too used to having Alex in.

"Yeah," He mumbles, closing his eyes as if he can see Alex's reaction. "Yeah, I do."

"That's cute," Alex says softly, and the smile on his lips evident through the phone. "I can't believe George Memeulous misses me. I miss you too, if it's any consolation."

"Never said I missed you," He scoffs and lays back down, setting his phone on his chest. "Maybe I just miss you keeping me warm at night."

"Right," Alex sighs, unconvinced once more. "Guess I'll have to keep my poor, lonely boy company to distract him from the cold then, hm?" He teases, suddenly sounding closer to the phones microphone.

George swallows and exhales out his nose. "Right," He nods, "And how're you going to do that?"

Alex hums in thought, fake and teasing, dragging it out just to push George's buttons. It works when he groans at Alex to shut up and get on with it.

"I can keep you company by telling you how much I miss you," Alex offers, his voice coming through airy. It's definitely not the phone that's doing that.

"I know you do. Try harder, Elmslie." George snorts and rests a hand on his bare stomach, settling back into the pillows.

Alex hums again, and the way it's built in his throat makes George's chest tighten. "I can tell you how much I've thought about you? I've missed you, George, and I know you've missed me too." He murmurs softly. He's talking about the shameless photo George had sent him earlier in the week, tense and pent up after Alex's own teasing photos that he'd sent.

"Aren't your friends in the other room?" George scoffs, trying to get the upper-hand.

"Aren't you all alone in our room?" Alex purrs, and that does tightens George's chest more. Our room. "Let me show you what I've been doing while we've been apart." He says, just as a video call comes through on George's phone.

George swallows and sits up, listening to the low dialling tone of the call. There's the hesitance again, from before he'd called Alex, warmth swimming in his abdomen at the thought of what waits for him on the video call. A shaky sigh of George's name comes through on the speaker, and he honestly couldn't have clicked accept fast enough if he tried.