Title: Like Lovers

Author: Finch

Characters: George and Izzy

A/N: So this is my attempt at a George and Izzy fic, this is just the first installment, so please comment, I live for them!

I own nothing, so ABC, don't sue me, I'm broke enough as it is! I'm in college for god's sake, I can give you nothing but my computer, microwave, and possible a box of KD.

Its all your fault.

I mean, if it weren't for your eyes, it wouldn't have been so hard. If I hadn't ever seen you laugh, or cry, or with icing on your nose from licking the spatula, it would have never happened.

It wouldn't have ever happened if I never knew you.

I should have been able to control myself. Maybe it would have never gotten so far if your hair didn't fall into your eyes, or you didn't walk around in your under-wear. If you didn't act like such a young thing, so full of every moment, and feeling every pang of hurt so strongly. Maybe if you didn't depend on me so much. And maybe if I didn't depend on you like I do.

This is so criminal.

I wish I could stay here forever, my arm hugging you around your waist, so small. With you, curled around me, one leg draped lazily over mine, your hand clutching mine to your cheek as you sleep, breathing small, shallow breaths, your cheeks pink, and your hair, god, it's just like the color gold should be, do you know that?

But you're starting to wake up. You're shifting, moving closer, moving farther, taking your hand from mine, and I know what you'll say when you open you're eyes, and realize you're still here.

You'll ask me to keep it just between us. Ask me not to tell anyone, especially him. Truthfully, I can't help but be scared of it all sometimes. All of it, all of this – This – all this feeling I feel when I'm with you. And how lonely I feel when its not there.

Outside its raining. Soft staccato murmuring sounds, and it makes it all feel so still. Its washing it all away, this night, this amazing night.

"Jesus Izzy," I sighed, pulling you tighter, just for an instant, trying to catch your warmth, trying to catch the last sentient parts of last night, parts of you, the grasping, clenching, hungry parts, where you were soft, and sharp and truthful, and I wanted – needed – every bit, all of it I took greedily.

You shift, and the curve of your cheek moves into the hollow of my throat, the crown of your head under my chin. I sigh again, softer, and trace the line of your cheek with my thumb.

"Jesus Izzy." I murmur.

Does he love you?

Do you love him?

But what the hell do I know. Last night, all of this, I forgot myself. You will never leave Alex for me.

Because what am I? he's smooth, I? am awkward. He's complicated, and full of brooding-ness. And I am pretty much just George.

And that's pretty much why you'll never leave him for me. And that's ok. Because I'm not supposed to like you anyways. I'm supposed to be head over heels for Meredith, and you, as lovely as you are, don't fit the criteria.

Maybe if your hair was darker.

Or your eyes were wider.

Maybe then I could love you.

And maybe then you could love me too.

And tell you the truth, even after you wake up, I'd do it all again. All of this mess.

Because you should be mine. Because I'd be lying to myself if I said I wasn't yours.

Your eyes are fluttering, and suddenly you're awake, and you untangle yourself as carefully as you can, tugging the sheets against your nakedness, and I'm so tempted by the stray lock of blond hair that caresses the hollow of your neck, I can't take my eyes off it.

Go for it.

Go for it.

So I do.

I balance my weight on my elbow, rolling on my side, half on top, one hand grazing the skin of your collar bone – not even trembling, not even scared, because I know what's coming, and I know I'd best collect while I have the chance – my hand moves upwards, and I look into your eyes, they're wide, surprised, blue.

My hand cradles your neck as I tilt your face upward, as I lower my own to it, lips just barely touching, so slow – infinitely slow, and then, I feel your body arch, and I feel my own sink, and I can't help it any longer – my lips crash onto yours, hard, passionate, full of everything I want to say but can't, everything I want to tell you, but you don't want to hear, and you open your mouth, and I invade it, my tongue brushing over your teeth, across the roof of your mouth, and I feel your hand snake around the back of my neck, into my hair, pulling me down, deeper into you, drowning me, and I know I'll never breathe again, unless you're there.

One more instant, and I lift myself up, throw off the covers, and pull on my boxers silently. I know you're sitting there, wondering what just happened, and that's ok. I can deal with that.

"I know what you're gonna say, ok? So just – just…don't. You don't need to worry."

I zip up my jeans, button the fly, and throw my t-shirt over my shoulder, and walk to the door, opening it, and closing it without looking back. Because it hurts too much.

Hurts too much to see you, to talk to you like lovers do. To think of you like a lover. To know you as a lover when all you wanted was a friend for some comfort.