"Some More Than Others"

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The family, and everyone else, is a no-show for Maeby's Sweet Sixteen that George Michael had planned for her. Angry and disappointed, they retire to their room with two glasses and a bottle of wine with the intention of getting drunk.

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"Sometimes I wish I wasn't even part of the family."

Maeby reached for the bottle of wine sitting beside her on the floor.

"What? No, no..." George Michael disagreed weakly. "You know, I never wanted to say this, but you may not even be related to us."

"No!" Maeby exclaimed in surprise. She thought about this revelation as she pulled the cork from the bottle with her teeth and poured them both glasses.

George Michael continued. "Because Gangey once said to me that your mom may not have even been pregnant with you."

"Ok, now you're just saying that to make me feel better." She handed a glass to George Michael and took more than a just a sip from her own.

"No, no, I wouldn't…" George Michael protested. He took a long drink from his glass. "Everyone still loves you." He paused. "Some more than others."

Tipsy as he was from the wine, George Michael sat in detached shock. The voice was his, and so were the thoughts. But surely he just hadn't professed his love for his cousin Maeby. Stupid George Michael! Stupid!

Maeby was touched by that comment. She realized she wasn't always the easiest person to get along with. That came from growing up with Lindsay and Tobias as parents. Yet George Michael had always been there for her; not ratting her out on any number of occasions, helping with her homework. Hell, he DID her homework. She would be lying if she claimed she had developed no feelings for him. George Michael's puppy-dog affection for her was endearing, no matter how hard he tried to keep it hidden. Buzzed and with a newfound recognition of her feelings, she leaned forward to kiss him.

Before George Michael had a chance to rebuke himself further, Maeby was leaning towards him, eyes closed and lips puckered. Hesitating only a second, George Michael met her lips with his own. Electricity shot through him as they kissed. This wasn't a quick, playful kiss like when Maeby tried to freak out Aunt Lindsay. This was a kiss fueled by passion, well, passion and more than a little bit of wine.

George Michael's eyes shot open briefly before responding in kind as Maeby's tongue slipped its way past his lips. No longer responsible for his own actions, he wrapped his arms around her, running a hand up and down her back. Maeby, purring from deep within her chest, pulled him closer and allowed one hand to slip down to his thigh..

Newly emboldened, George Michael took one of Maeby's breasts in his hand, massaging gently. As he worked Maeby's breasts, Maeby was working his fly, attempting to unbutton his pants with one hand. Giving up on one hand, Maeby reached to George Michael's crotch with her other hand. This, however, was the same hand that was supporting her as she had leaned over to kiss. As a result, she tumbled over on top of him.

Maeby, prone on top of George Michael, lifted her head back to gaze into his eyes. She held her gaze and watched his lust fade into fright as the silence increased. She also felt his lust fade, lying atop him as she was.

"This is so wrong," George Michael trembled, finally breaking the silence.

"You are so right," Maeby returned, still holding her gaze.

The silence stretched until, as if to some starter's pistol only they could hear, George Michael and Maeby were at each other like cats in heat. Clothes and limbs flew in a blur until Maeby was down to her bra and panties and George Michael, his boxers. They lay on the floor, facing each other as a silence descended. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence by any stretch. It was more of a pause in the action while both players took stock of the situation.

George Michael was in a trance as he took in what lay before him. This was about the outer limits of his fantasies. He admired the freckles that dotted Maeby's face and noted how her hair smelled of jasmine. He let his eyes wander down her body, appreciating the smooth creaminess of her breasts and how they rose and fell as she breathed. And her smooth belly. And those round hips. And… And…

Maeby lay on her side, loosing herself in George Michael's wide innocent eyes. Eyes tell a lot about a person she discovered, like how Lindsay blinks more often when she's lying. Right now there was no deception in George Michael's eyes, just gentleness and love, or maybe it was lust. He broke eye contact and she watched his gaze move downwards.

She let her own eyes travel down. George Michael's chest was smooth and hairless although beginning to develop some muscle tone. She smiled inwardly, thinking of that week when he wore the muscle suit. He had been so cute she couldn't bear letting him know she was on to him. Her eyes continued down his chest. Below his navel there was a thin line of light peach-fuzz that continued down to his boxer shorts where…

Maeby's laugh caused George Michael to look up. Following her gaze, he looked down to the source of Maeby's amusement. A fully-aroused George Michael was poking through the fly in his boxers. Suddenly self-conscious, he flopped over on his stomach to cover himself. Unfortunately that wasn't a good idea for someone in his state of tumescence. He yelped in pain and embarrassment and flopped on his other side, facing away. Ears burning, he hoped they weren't as red as they felt. He couldn't believe she had just laughed at him. What was she laughing at? Was she laughing at his size? Didn't they say "size doesn't matter"? Or what if it wasn't that, but she was laughing as she thought it all one big joke? Maybe she was just trying to freak him out. What if…

"George Michael…"

"George Michael…" Maeby repeated softly.

George Michael did not respond. Maeby leaned forward and put a hand on his shoulder. She felt him tighten up under her touch.

"I'm sorry I laughed. I wasn't laughing at you. It was just when I saw you poking out of your skivvies, I lost it. Ok, maybe I was laughing at you, but not in that way. I just wasn't expecting that and… Listen, the truth is I really like you. And I'm really happy we aren't related."

George Michael rolled over on his other side, facing her.

"Really?"

"Really."

She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek. Snuggling up next to him, she wrapped an arm around him. In five minutes they were both asleep.