Commentary Crew One Shots (Memeulous, Imallexx, WillNe etc)

Gratification - Alex x George

The haze of the house party hung in the street, intoxicating George, pulling him towards the building like a magnet, or more like a drug. It wasn't as though he was addicted, he thought it was more of a romance. A romance between him and the aura of these events, the feel of escaping monotony for a night to drink and dance with your friends.

His cigarette hung loosely from his fingers as he drifted towards the house, him, Will and Joshy, zigzagging down the road like leaves in the wind. Free spirits. For the night they were lost to the atmosphere. Lost to the haze and the drink and the music. George was intoxicated, controlled by it, but he'd never admit it.

Still, his eyes held longing, a gaze of lust bore into the house, so much promise for the night, so much potential. He had no plan. For now all he wanted to do was pull the last drags of his fag and find his next gratification. Be it drink, dance or something else, George was ready to fall in. Fall in and forget.

Will and Joshy, were nattering, waiting for George, fingers gripping the garden gate in anticipation. George took his time, waiting to give the go-ahead. He stubbed out the embers and took a breath before nodding. Will grinned his devilish smirk and lead the way. His arm trailed behind him, head slightly bowed as he entered the house, beckoning the others in.

Life moved in slow motion. Every sense dulled and amplified. Faces blurred and merged and split into a hundred. George did not care.

He reached his first gratification by the booze. It was easy to lift to his lips, to swallow was even easier. His throat begged for more, his mind was in no position to stop. The cider swilled in his cup as the room swayed to the beat. Legs and arms collided with others, he remained immobile in it all. The atmosphere soaked through his bones, his soul. It filled him to the brim with something breathless and natural. George was a rock in a swirling world of colour, texture, sound.

His second gratification grew in him before tipping into his limbs. The bass hit his chest, closed his eyes, shut out everything and welcomed it all. The music overcame him. George did not dance well, nor awfully. The way he moved held an energy, a virus, which passed to the others. Motion spread, identity was mislaid and found, he lost track of himself.

Pulling away from the sweating mass wasn't easy. Less like a magnet and more of a slime that refused to detach. It sucked at his limbs and pulled him back in for one more chorus. Just that one and then another. George could have been stuck there for hours. He didn't think to care.

George did not need to go looking for his third gratification. It instead came to him. Or, rather, she came to him. He wasn't particularly invested in finding someone tonight. But she was there, and wanting, and the way she leant her hand on his chest made something within him follow her upstairs.

He vaguely thought she would lead him to a bedroom, a closet, a bathroom, or something. Instead she took his hand and guided him to the balcony at the back of the house. The balcony was big enough for a small group, and indeed there was. A relaxed mass of teens, their eyes unfocused, their minds elsewhere. The collection of strangers beckoned him down into the circle. The girl pulled him, let his back lean against the railings. The feel of white painted wood grounded him for a second, and he looked to his left.

A boy smiled at him, face a foot away. His age maybe, maybe a year younger. The boy wore a pink cap, which shaded his grey eyes. That's all George could notice before being tapped on the shoulder. At some point in the process the blonde girl laid her head on George's lap. The girl said something. Something else. He nodded, shook his head, nodded again. He looked down at her, faces parallel, she smiled, letting a stream of smoke float up towards him. His eyes closed briefly upon breathing in the smell. He passed on the first round, turned back to the boy.

The boy turned back to him. He said something indiscernible in the huddle of strangers. George leaned closer, tilted his head, heard it again.

The boy gave a slight grin, letting teeth poke through his lips. George was enamoured by the movement of his mouth, his tongue, the twitch of his grey eyes as he saw George watch his every move.

A nudge from the girl on his lap distracted George again. His eyes wandered lazily back towards her. She reached for his neck and pulled him down. He didn't object, and tasted the green on her tongue. He left his hand on her hip, stroking gently with one thumb. He passed on the second round, he turned back to the boy.

They exchanged words. But mainly looks. George let the hand that wasn't cradling the girl lie next to him. Inches of space became galaxies between them. George wasn't desperate for gratification. He just needed it.

If only the boy in pink would, could comply.

The boy in pink seemed to know what George wanted, he passed the joint to his own left and casually let his hand brush George's as it fell.

George's sharp intake of breath was encouraging, it seemed. A brush became a smooth stroke, and a catching of thin fingers. One right hand, one left. George let himself pull the boy's hand tighter. The boy didn't mind. Nor did the girl on his lap, who pulled him down again.

He let her mouth slip from his and carelessly make it's way along his jaw, he let her hands reflect the path, and he let the boy trace circles on his palm with his index finger.

Ecstasy?

Perhaps. The third gratification was fading. Or growing. Maybe making way for a fourth. George didn't really know, didn't really care. So long as the boy kept on holding his hand.

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Ok so this one is a little different. I might have an idea for part 2 if you guys enjoyed.

Also I might have an Alex x George fic coming soon...