Disclaimer: If I owned Grey's Anatomy, Alex and Izzie would constantly be doing it. But I don't. Sigh.

X.x.x.x.X

Thirty-hour shifts didn't kill you (as much) after a while, but they still made your body feel numb, and broken. After going to Joe's for a night of rum and coke in the corner (the other interns didn't associate themselves with him, wouldn't allow him to get close after the Denny issue with Izzie, and the raging shout at O'Malley in the locker room) and maybe pick up some girl whose name he would never know, nor remember. That wasn't what he wanted though; but what he did long for was so out of reach, he'd die trying. Because, the person he wanted was one of those interns who wouldn't even give him the time of day. He had fucked it up with them all, maybe him most off all.

Him. He still wouldn't accept it, pushed away all his taboo daydreams, thought of something else before his mind lingered on his fantasies. But they'd be back; they were resilient and unyielding, pounding into his head every morning when he first saw him. When he saw O'Malley for the first time each day, he swallowed hard and concentrated his lust into anger. He'd taunt him, tell him to "Fuck off," go "Screw himself" because nobody else would. But that was a lie. Alex knew he'd screw the other intern in a heartbeat, drunk or sober, he'd fuck him senseless.

He'd felt that way since day one, but he'd hidden his sexuality for so long, he knew how to mask it by now. It was really juvenile, he knew. Just like the way he'd tug at the girls' pigtails on the playground, before his orientation awoke. He'd make them cry, so they could never let on; make them hurt so he wouldn't have to. The plan wasn't exactly perfected, he still bled inside seeing O'Malley's face crush every time he insulted him, but it was the only way to help him delve deeper into denial.

Another way to numb the pain. He motioned for another drink, something stronger this time. It'd be his third drink, everything was fuzzy and the room was at a sharp angle. Alex waited for his eyes to flicker away from the back of George's head, but they wouldn't. He was laughing with the three women, in a totally different universe than Alex. Izzie pushed her hand against his chest, against a moss green sweater that didn't fit too tightly. Izzie… she was beautiful, and a part of him did like her, always would. He could see himself being happy enough with her, letting her fill the void that could only be fixed by O'Malley. He did like her a lot; it wasn't an act to convince himself that didn't like him. But he knew he'd always fuck it up, usually unwillingly, because in the end, she wasn't "good enough," in a sense. "Sure," he thought bitterly, "She's good enough. How I even landed her is beyond me…but she's not him." Alex cursed to himself, wishing she could be enough, wanting her to make him forget all about George. Sometimes she could, but not tonight. He took another sip, only to find that it was empty. So was he. He waited, waited for his mind to drift, to find a pretty face to spend the night. Nobody seemed attractive enough; nobody seemed (once again) "good" enough. So, he ordered another drink, a nice shot of tequila, hopefully with the worm. The burn in his throat, the temporary watering in his eyes made him feel alive, like some depressed teenager finding comfort in blades and razors. Another shot, another bolt of pain racing through him, making him shudder with pleasure. But happiness (or something like it) was there and gone at the blink of an eye. It was tantalizing, the tiny feeling of glee, vanishing as quickly as it came. He didn't opt for another shot, just stared at him, wanting something, anything, to numb the pain.

X.x.x.x.X

I'm aware that this shipping would NEVER happen in a million years, but I was thinking of weird shippings and I got George/Alex and Mehr/Addison. Because sometimes, opposites attract, or drunken nights are the best way to go. Review please? Kisses and cookies!