Breakin the Bend - [Georgie]

[samual allen donnelly]

Sammy loved his job. That much could be seen by anyone who had ever seen him while he was tending bar at the establishment that he owned. A place that had his own surname on the sign and when the doors opened there was the laid back vibes of an old Irish pub. It was not the same sort of place as the bar that he had once called his own back in Providence. A place that had been more of a music venue than an Irish pub but he had loved it none the less. This place was different, it was his own, and it didn’t risk shitty bands that he couldn’t stand playing on his stage, but instead the laid back atmosphere of a pub that he had always envisioned. His bar was really the one of the only upsides to moving away from everything that he had known. From his home, his family, everything he loved and cared about. It was a place that he had built up from scratch, his home away from home. He was comfortable in this place.

But all of that comfort and that peace had been stolen from him the moment that girl had walked into his bar. He hadn’t remembered her, she hadn’t meant anything to him back when he had known her before which hadn’t been for much longer than a night. She had been a bet, that was all that she had been. A bet made between himself and the ass holes that he called friends in Chicago. One of those bets made between a group of men that started with a challenge and ended with him having her in his bad. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t run into women he had slept with before, because, well, for a man who wanted to do everything that he could to hide the fact that he had little to no interest in the fairer gender, sleeping with women was something that he had to do more than once.

So he fucked her and that had been that and then he had gone home fifty bucks richer and with a wide smile on his lips because he had shown those fuckers that he could get whatever he wanted. That was how it had been his entire life and it wasn’t about to change just because he aged a few years or was legally an adult, even more so legally an adult who could drink. Sam was not the type to turn down a challenge. And when that girl had walked into his bar, he didn’t know that what was going to end up coming from her lips would be nothing but a horror story for the man who was not a lot of things, but what he was was a Catholic.

This little bitch had thought that it had been a good idea to abort his baby. She hadn’t even told him that she was pregnant, which he saw no excuse for because he had left his number with her. She should’ve told him, that was the bottom line of it all. She should’ve called him told him that he had knocked her up because apparently she was too stupid to be on any sort of contraceptive and the pull out method obviously hadn’t worked this time around. So, she had been pregnant with his kid. And she had taken it into her own hands to get rid of it without even seeing how he felt about it.

He was pissed off on about twenty different levels, so much so that he had grabbed that girl and pulled her into his office leaving one of his employees to deal with taking care of the customers during their happy hour rush. Something he normally would never do. But all it had taken was one sharp look from the owner to let the man know that this was important. He had more or less dragged her into his office and he had slapped the bitch because she deserved that much. He had ranted and raved and by the end of it all he had called in another employee to take over the rest of his shift because there was no way that he could deal with working.

Sammy felt violated in some way, like someone had come into his world and stolen everything that mattered to him. And all because she had to walk into his bar of all the bars in this shitty little town. The man stormed up the stairs to his apartment and then it was a quick turn of keys to see the door well and opened. The sight that came next was not one that he wanted to deal with. There was Georgie, sitting on his couch, which, had become sort of a regular thing, but in that moment he wanted nothing to do with the man.

“Get out,” he said in a tone that was closer to a growl than human sounding. “Get your faggot ass off of my couch and get the fuck out of my house,” he followed up his tone raising to a yell and his finger pointing to the door.

[GEORGIE MAXWELL PARKER]

That morning, when Georgie woke up, washed his face and looked in the mirror. He had a serious chat with himself. If only he could remember what that chat was, because ten minutes later he seemed to be whacked out of his mind, high up on… well, on something. This was a regular occurrence for him, really, Georgie never thought much of it. But for a lot of people, far more normal people, this was the equivalent of having a bowl of candy watered down with soda at six in the morning, or brushing your teeth with a bottle of Jack Daniels. It was one of those signs that you had a problem—that sign that most addicts are oblivious to. Georgie, however, was not totally oblivious to this sign, he knew perfectly well he had a drug problem, and tried fairly hard to stop it… but withdrawal always got the best of him, and he saw no need to stop doing what he did to his body if he was just going to die anyways.

Death wasn’t a scary thing to him, it was a tranquil thing, and it was something he thought about often when he was feeling stressed or anxious, as morbid as that sounds. Everything dies, Georgie’s death may have been coming quicker than others, but sooner or later everything would die, sooner or later anyone who he loved would be right there beside him in the darkest circle of hell, and that didn’t bother him. He had known about the HIV for a few years now, and as someone who use to not be very careful about protection and “wrapping it before you start tapping it,” he had recently become a super cautious person… and for fairly obvious reasons. He may not have had any true morals, but he wasn’t really willing to indirectly kill someone. He wasn’t that bad of a person.

He was, however, bad enough of a person to find himself lounging in a closet homosexual’s house, his hand slipped comfortably in his pants. His hand wasn’t doing much, despite the fact that it was resting inside the elastic of his boxers on the inner part of his thigh… that’s all it really seemed to be doing, resting, as his shirt was riding up over his tummy. He laid there on the sofa for a good half an hour before anyone came home. Honestly, this happened almost every day, he couldn’t help himself from getting to Sammy’s little condo early though… something about him made Georgie come back for seconds and thirds and fourths, even though it was the same exact taste ever time. It started out with some fighting, intense physical and verbal fighting, and somehow ended up with Georgie’s jeans and briefs around his ankles as Sammy bent him over the counter aggressively. It was abusive, no doubt… but something about it made his head spin.

“Someone’s grumpy.” Georgie said as he sat up, his hand slipping out of his pants as he did so. He looked over at Sammy, who seemed more peeved than usual today, and stifled a chuckle. Georgie constantly described the other boy’s angry face as ugly, because, well, in his eyes, it truly was. Sam was an attractive man, no doubt, but as soon as he got a little pissed off, his face god almost comically red and his eyes squinted to he looked swollen. He couldn’t blame him though, Georgie was sure he didn’t look very attractive when he was pissed off either… it was a good thing he rarely got sincerely pissed. Sammy however, did.

“Chill, Sunshine, what’s got you’re panties in a twist?” He hopped off the sofa, swaying as he got to his feet, and walked nonchalantly over to the younger boy. Any other person would be cowering over in a corner, or would have promptly left as soon as Sam asked them to, but Georgie was no any other person, and a few bruises were not going to kill him. They were worth it if he got to watch his little abusive fuck buddy squirm. “I aint gonna leave until you tell me, Honey.” And he wouldn’t, either. Sam would have to drag him out kicking and screaming by his hair if he wanted Georgie to leave. Unfortunately for Georgie, it wasn’t unlikely that Sam would do that.

NOTES blughhh

[samual allen donnelly]

Samual Allen had no idea in the world why he thought that Georgie was going to make this easy on him. Maybe he had hoped for a moment that Georgie would just, not be him for a moment, and actually do as he was told. Shut his fucking mouth and do what he was told. Whatever kind of hopeful thinking that was he had no fucking clue because he hadn’t known Georgie for that long but he knew him well enough to know that he never listened about anything. Ever. No matter what Sammy’s mood was. No matter how many times he went and beat the other man, took his anger and sexual frustration out on him. Georgie wasn’t much more than sex to him, a punching bag, or at least that was what Sammy had been convincing himself of. Him being his whore and punching bag, though, didn’t quite explain why Sammy had given him a key to his condo, or why he was still keeping him around. The reasons for that were some that he wasn’t going to get into at all. Especially not now when he was already in a bad mood.

Jaw clenched as he watched him get off of the couch and his eyes narrow at the other man. The last thing that he wanted was Georgie coming near him, it was the last thing that he wanted, the last thing that he needed. Fuck, he would take an orgy with all women and no men over this. A straight man’s dream but when Sam thought about that much vagina in one moment he couldn’t help but shudder. He was pissed and it had nothing to do with this babbling faggot that he kept around for once, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t take his anger out on him. Wouldn’t smack him around if he got too close. Which really wasn’t all that different from the day to day, the only difference was that it wasn’t Georgie that he was pissed at.

“Stay the fuck away from me,” he growled out both hands moving out to press onto the other man’s chest and shoving him away from him. This wasn’t his normal sort of angry, that much was true. Usually he was just pissy, usually he had some kind of control over himself. Maybe there was an underlying reason why he wanted nothing more than for Georgie to just leave his condo, part of him that knew that he wouldn’t be able to control himself that day. He beat him often, that much was sure. He pushed him and punched him and backhanded him. But he’d never really done anything that was too violent, he’d never come all that close to really hurting him. Sam had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself that day. There was no way that he could simply just leave it at a few hits or shoves. “I’m telling you Georgie, you need to get out of my fucking house right now if you know what’s good for you.” Another warning one that he hoped he would take to heart and get the fuck out of there.

There was a turn on his heel and he made his way towards his minibar pulling out a bottle of scotch and making himself a drink before downing it quickly and glamming the glass down on the counter of the bar. His mind was racing, his blood was boiling, there was no slowing his heart or calming himself as he stood there. Sure enough, alcohol wasn’t going to help his anger, but all that he wanted was to drink right in that moment. Drink and try to forget this whole damn thing.

A part of him, though, the part that loved children. The part that had always thought about having a family, or more so, having kids. Little short things to run around and play with and laugh. He could have one, if that bitch hadn’t gotten rid of the baby. And if she didn’t want a damn thing to do with the kid, then he would’ve taken him or her and been more than happy. It was like having one of his dreams just dangled in front of his face and then ripped away from him just as quickly. Sammy really hated not getting what he wanted, which was probably a good portion of why he was so pissed. He swore to himself, too, that if he ever saw the girl again, he was going to go insane. With a refill of the drink he downed the liquor and ran fingers through his hair looking away from the other man hoping that ignoring him would cause him to just leave, if for once, he could get what he asked for.

[GEORGIE MAXWELL PARKER]

From the moment Georgie met Sam, there was a certain amount of beating he knew he would have to take from this man. Why did he know this? Well, because when most people avoided fights, Georgie generally picked them,, and when he picked one with Sammy, the man actually fought back. It was part of the appeal, I suppose, Georgie was always sort of a masochist. But something about Sammy made Georgie keep coming back for more, he wouldn’t quit, he wouldn’t leave, that’s why he constantly found himself picking the lock and outsmarting the alarm system in that condo. He’d make a very clever criminal, but Georgie didn’t steal from Sam… all that often. He was generally just there to see him, to see his face and his body and… Georgie had to shake off the thought of himself having a crush… but it was inevitable. George Parker did indeed have a crush, and it killed him inside.

Georgie had never had a girlfriend before, nor had he had a boyfriend for the record. He didn’t do crushes, and love, and it really had nothing to do with the fact that he had HIV. It had more to do with the fact that Georgie thought himself incapable of loving anyone, in high school he had countless fuck buddies, and friends, but… it was still so hard for him to really just settle down with one person. He didn’t have commitment issues, he was just emotionally constipated, but Sammy was his laxative, too bad he was so reluctant to go down.

Being pushed was not out of the ordinary, all that happened was Georgie stumbled back and rubbed his chest from where Sammy had applied the force. “Geez, you’re being rough today.” He said rolling his eyes and regaining that step he had lost from the other man pushing him. And then he said something about how if Georgie ‘knew what was good for him.’ He almost laughed out loud, Georgie knew nothing of what was good for him, he did drugs, drank a whole lot, partied too hard, got arrested for stupid things, and picked fights. By now, Sammy should have realized that this pick haired fellow was not really the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to ‘what was good for him’ Georgie wasn’t stupid, he was good at the things he was good at, but all the rest he was clueless. Or perhaps, maybe it wasn’t that he was clueless, but that he just did what he wanted to. He didn’t care if it was good or bad, or socially unacceptable, he did it anyway. That was what made him, him.

He stared at Sam blankly for a moment, leaving the room uncomfortably silent. Generally, Georgie did all the talking; Sam wasn’t really a vocal person. His eyes traced the other boy’s steps as he walked over to the minibar, then followed him like a loyal dog… he really did make a great bottom… too bad Sam didn’t see that; or, he did, and he didn’t want to. “Seriously, I wanna know…” Georgie said, hitching his pants, which were starting sag, back up on his hips. Georgie’s outfit… was something out of a Dr. Suess book. He must have been colorblind, because that bright blue blazer clashed horribly with the striped scarf he was wearing, and the bright red pants, and the green shoes. Not to mention the fact that his pink hair made it even more of an eyesore. Georgie was ridiculously confident for someone so strange.

“Okay, Okay, here. I’ll play the therapist…” He sat down and pretended to hold a writing back, then looked up at Sam with a vacant expression as if he were looking up through glasses. Any you can tell me why the fuck you’re being such a dick,” He stood up and skipped close to him, Did someone find out you’re a faggot?” He giggled wildly, taking several quick steps backwards because, well, he knew Sam would hit him if he had stayed that close after making a comment like that. He shielded his face a little bit, “You can tell me, Baby,” He said, peeking through his fingers, ”Who the fuck am I gonna tell?”

NOTES i've been slacking.

[samual allen donnelly]

This was not his day, and for once, just for fucking once it would be nice if Georgie could just do what he was told and not be such a pain in the fucking ass. That for just one day he could do what Sammy fucking asked him to do without being a sass. Of course, that wasn’t Georgie, and he knew that it wasn’t Georgie. He also knew that he was in such a foul mood that he wasn’t going to be able to keep his temper in check, and no one could piss him off quite like Georgie could. Not even the stupid little cunt who had ruined his day at work that afternoon. The pink haired clashing little fuck had found out all his buttons –even ones that Sam himself didn’t know he had- and he pushed them until they damn near broke like he was some sort of child. Sam was already close to breaking from the moment that he’d walked into the apartment and fuck if he would be able to keep control for long with Georgie not straying from his mood of fucking with him in every way possible.

“And you’re being more of a moron today,” he shot back at him. Though, the truth of the matter was simply that Sam was in a worse mood than usual when he’d walked through his door and all that Georgie was being was his usual self. Something that Sam had little tolerance for usually, now it was just worse. The way that Georgie just came back after being shoved was worse, the way that he followed him over to the minibar was equally as irritating. There was nothing that Georgie could do in those moments that could please Sam. Hell even if the pink haired fucked dropped to his knees and sucked him off that would probably piss Sammy off. He wanted nothing to do with Georgie, nothing to do with everything that having Georgie meant. What was even worse was that the fact that he was actually caring if he hurt the other man.

He didn’t want to hurt him, he didn’t want Georgie to end up with more bruises on his body than there was skin. Fuck, he cared. And the fact that he cared was pissing him off even more and making him want Georgie to leave even more than he had the moment that he’d walked into the apartment. He’d known that there’d been a time when he wouldn’t have cared. In the beginning of their whatever the fuck it was, he wouldn’t have cared if he’d hospitalized Georgie. But the thought of losing control and possibly seriously hurting him, fuck, it was more than Sam wanted to think about. He hated him. He hated this fucker. “My life if none of your fucking business you fucking faggot,” he hissed out before downing another drink.

Sammy didn’t even look at Georgie when he sat down on the couch instead he just focused on the bottle downing as much of it as he could in one drink. It was having Georgie close that pulled his attention away and he was damn lucky that he moved away when he did or else Sam would’ve backhanded him. This situation was just getting worse and worse. And now with alcohol in his system all amount of control was lost. He took a step towards Georgie with balled fists and then hit him hard in the gut. “Shut the fuck up.” Followed by another blow to the rib cage. “Just shut the fuck up. I fucking hate you,” he then grabbed hold of his shirt and slammed him into the wall none too gently. “Why can’t you just fucking listen you stupid fucking faggot?!” he yelled and slammed him again before punching the wall by the side of his head hard enough to leave a hole. There was a split second of realization that caused him to release all hold on Georgie and he took a few steps back. “You should fucking leave already.” Said in another yell, but under all the anger, there was some degree of concern. And that just pissed him off even more.

[GEORGIE MAXWELL PARKER]

Georgie couldn’t say he was shocked. Sam was pissed, and well, this wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence. Georgie liked pushing his buttons, no doubt, and Sam hitting him was nothing out of the ordinary either. He had hit him before, been a little too rough with him, backhanded him… Georgie was honestly used to it. Hell, he had dealt with it his whole life with his dad, his mom, everyone really. It never bothered him, in fact in some kind of masochistic way, Georgie liked it. His pain showed they cared, somehow. In his mind, it made sense. The blows to the ribcage however were a bit startling.

The wind was knocked out of him and he found himself gasping for air when Sam had slammed him against the wall. Georgie squirmed under his grip, but it was useless to even try. He may have had a little muscle, but it was weakened by his drug abuse and Sam was sure as hell a lot more built than Georgie’s skinny little body. Even so, there was a split moment, where he smiled and cackled a bit when Sam released his grip, but it was followed by a sudden realization of the throbbing in his head and his chest, and he dropped to the floor looking a bit panicked now.

He heaved in air a little bit, moving a hand to touch his ribs where Sam had hit him, stupidly pressing down on it a little bit. He heaved a little bit, coughing loudly and spitting up blood. “Well fuck…” He said, trying to look like he wasn’t in much pain. Sam wouldn’t want him to be in pain… “That’s not good.” He breathed in slowly, making a sharp wheezing sound, biting down on his lip to keep his whimpers in. F-ffuu—Ukk.” His voice cracked, and he could feel his eyes tearing up from the pain. He coughed again, blood now dripping from one of his ears. He could have screamed. He wanted to scream.

(take it like a man, Georgie boy.)

Oh god, he shuddered. He felt rather small on his knees next to Sam, despite his height… his age… he felt like a kid again and that was… It was…. He couldn’t even think of the word. He couldn’t think of emotions anymore, just searing pain. Everywhere. “God… dammat Sammy, you really---ughh... You uh… you really…” He paused, swaying a bit on his knees then looking back up at Sam, “S’just a scratch, I’m fine.” He stood up slowly, swaying then leaning his entire bodyweight against the wall and breathing heavily.

Now… Now you… what happened… why are you so…” Georgie gripped his side tightly with one arm and wiped to blood from his mouth with the sleeve of the other one. “Why are you—ughhfuck—especially pissed off today… motherfuckkkerrr—and stop—ugh—fucking calling me a faggot... when I’m just being a fucking friend.” Georgie’s knees buckled beneath him and he fell on his knees again.

“There’s somethin’ real sexual ‘bout this…”

NOTES ilolollong overdue. I blame the Winchesters.

[samual allen donnelly]

no matter how much georgie pissed him off well...all the time, it wasn't like sammy really wanted to hurt the little piss ant. sure, he pissed him off beyond belief and most of the time he just wanted him to go away and never come back. but he never wanted to actually hurt him. fuck, he just had a temper. and he had tried to tell georgie to go away and leave him alone. to get out of the apartment. he told him to go. and he wouldn't. he never just fucking left when he was told to. and that wasn't sammy's fault, it was not sam's fault that the pink haired faggot never did what was best for him. it wasn't like he hadn't told him. it wasn't like sammy hadn't warned him to leave him alone. but georgie never listened and sam should've known better than to think for once he would listen to the words that came out of his mouth because georgie was the single most infuriating son of a bitches that he'd ever crossed paths with.

he watched him as the blood came from his mouth and slight guilt started coming over him as he looked at the pink haired man. his brows knitted and a sigh left him as he ran fingers through his hair before heading back towards the mini bar and pouring another drink. if he would just fucking listen. "why can't you just fucking listen for once in your life," he let out in a grumble before pouring a drink and downing it, the soft burn of the liquor giving him a bit of comfort.

the donnelly man turned so that he could better look at georgie as he moved to stand. if there was one thing that he could give georgie it was the fact that he never seemed to back down from something that he wanted to know or something that he believed in and if sam didn't find it so god damn annoying it would almost be admirable to look at georgie still trying to stand and get the truth out of sam as to why he was so pissed off. but all that this did was seem to piss him off more. the way that he just wiped the blood away, the way that he acted like he wasn't as hurt as he actually was. it was just, it was fucking pathetic. georgie was so fucking pathetic.

the words that came from the boy, though, made something in him click. because, for once that faggot was right. for once he was just trying to be a friend and all that sam was doing was being a violent ass hole. maybe if they didn't have a sexual aspect to their....whatever it was, then it wouldn't be such a problem. maybe if georgie wasn't always trying to get him to talk about the fact that he liked fucking men. maybe if georgie was so fucking....georgie. but he was, and now he was standing there bleeding, and he was still trying to figure out what was wrong with sam like they were fucking friends. a scowl took over his lips and he looked over at the other man as he fell to his knees. "look, georgie, we aren't friends. okay? so forgive me if i don't want to talk to you about it." and with that he downed the rest of his drink before walking over to the other man and bending down so he could wrap an arm around him and get him to his feet. "shut up," he let out with the softest smile on his lips for a moment before he walked him over to the couch and sat him down on it none too gently. "don't get blood on my furniture."


notes: faggots, the both of them

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