i have been knees deep in hockey content this entire week and having made my way through all the possible docuseries i can find i feel prepared. i feel ready. it’s time to pick another sports team to ruin my days
have spent the last checks watch 5 hours cooking up the most diabolical scenarios in bugs dm’s and it is now checks watch again 6:30am and the birds are chirping and i have not slept. life is worth living etc
gewis + the moment where lewis realises he’s in love with George
Send me a ship + a sentence and I’ll write the next 5 [or more] sentences.
George is sitting before him on his phone, scrolling idly, and Lewis just ― stares. There’s a comfortable silence settling between them as George fiddles with his phone and Lewis ― well. Lewis watches George.
He’s sat crossed-legged, long; long legs on display, ankle resting on his opposite thigh. But it’s his arms that have Lewis’ focus: he’s marvelled by how soft, how delicate, they look, like they’re made for Lewis’ fingers to press into, press him tight, hold him down.
They've been sleeping together for a while now, but this is - this is different. It’s more than the tease of having George under him when Lewis sees bare skin, it’s the realisation that George’s hair is various shades of brown in the sunlight, how George comes to life when the sun is out, standing tall, a sunflower preening towards the light. How his unique eyelashes, curling inward, start dark at the root and end in something much fainter, lightened by the sun.
He’s beautiful, Lewis thinks. Radiant.
Lewis bodily shakes himself, instead turning his attention to the sun reflecting off of the Mercedes’ logo in such a way that Lewis knows it’ll look beautiful photographed, and he pulls his phone out on instinct, silent as he positions the camera steadily with George at the forefront, Mercedes logo behind him, the sun illuminating the softness of his skin where it reflects.
George is still distracted when Lewis takes the photo, staring down at his phone, faint smile tugging at his lips at whatever he’s looking at. His cap is covering his eyes but Lewis knows if he looks up, they’d be bathed in amber and blue, lightened by the sun’s glow.
He’s still watching George at the moment he sees Lewis’ post. He looks up, his smile the softest thing Lewis has ever seen, pretty pink lips stretching into a grin when he laughs, before he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth like he’s suddenly shy, cheeks rosy.
Lewis holds an arm outstretched, hand making a ‘come here’ motion which George instantly obliges, walking the short distance between them to settle in Lewis’ lap when he pulls him down.
The sun is behind him, like this, but he’s still glowing, sunshine peeking through the wisps of unruly hair sat atop George’s head, breaking through to shine on Lewis’ face. Lewis leans up to capture George’s lips in a kiss, settling into the new reality that hits him all at once as he runs a hand through George’s hair, pushing his cap off, pulling him closer.
anti rpf people are so funny they're always like "how would you feel if people shipped you with your friend" i don't know how to break it to you but if i was famous and no one was writing fanfiction about me i would be devastated. i wouldn't feel like i made it until i could search my name on ao3 and find 10k+ explicit results. peace and love though
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