Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1687550.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      Chronicles_of_Narnia_RPF
  Relationship:
      Georgie_Henley/Anna_Popplewell
  Character:
      Anna_Popplewell, Georgie_Henley
  Additional Tags:
      Voyeurism, Masturbation, Masturbation_in_Shower, Showers, Crushes
  Stats:
      Published: 2008-08-11 Words: 4537
****** behind glass ******
by likecharity
Summary
     It's no good trying to deny this attraction. She's spent several
     months doing that, now, and she was actually getting pretty good at
     it, but then Georgie started taking off her clothes only a wall away
     and Anna's imagination has started working overtime.
Notes
     For lettersandliars, who requested 'Anna/Georgie, Anna being kind of
     a pervert and watching Georgie in the shower or anything in that
     vein' over at the Narnia_Kink_Meme. There was meant to be more porn
     in this, I hope you enjoy it anyway. XD Georgie is fifteen!
They have always shared hotel rooms. Always. Ever since promotion first began
for Wardrobe. And this has never been a problem. Georgie has changed in front
of her countless times. They've slept in the same bed. Anna can remember
several occasions when Georgie would be taking a shower and she would waltz
right into the bathroom with her because she needed to brush her teeth.
But all of that was a long time ago. Maybe not that long ago, but right now it
certainly seems like it. It was back when Georgie was -- well, when she hadn't
reached puberty, and she hadn't paid any attention to things like modesty.
And now, those things just aren't true anymore.
Anna swears under her breath. She's sitting on her hotel bed, her head in her
hands. She's almost wishing she and Will hadn't been invited to the Dawn
Treader premiere. It would make things a lot easier. Of course, she'd still
have to see Georgie, but she wouldn't have to be in the next room while Georgie
was undressing for a shower, and that would mean she would probably be able to
put off dealing with these feelings for longer.
She doesn't usually see Georgie the same way the public does. Between the first
two films, they still saw each other a lot, so she didn't really pay attention
to how much Georgie was growing up. She didn't really understand the stunned
reaction everybody seemed to have when Prince Caspian was released, the
disbelief that this Georgie Henley was really the same little round-faced ten
year old from the first film.
But now -- now she thinks she understands it.
They kept in touch when filming started. She received several excited emails
and texts filled with capslock, and even the occasional handwritten letter when
Georgie could be bothered. They had conversations on the phone when they could
manage it, having to work around each other's schedules and the time
difference. And when it was finally time for her and Will's visit to set
(extremely late, because Will had been so busy), she did wonder vaguely in the
back of her mind how much everybody would have changed.
But nothing could have prepared her for it, really.
She barely even recognised Georgie at first. She remembers the way she acted,
and god, she must have looked like such an idiot. She had expected Georgie to
have grown taller, of course, but that was about as far as she'd gotten, and it
just -- it was a total shock. Georgie had curves suddenly, she wasn't a twiggy
little thing anymore. She had hips. Anna can still remember the way Georgie's
vest-top rode a little too high and her jeans hung a little too low and there
was that sliver of pale skin and hipbones and how she just could not stop
staring.
And then there were her breasts. She'd wished somebody would have maybe warned
her about that, before realising how ridiculous a thought that was. Skandar
wasn't exactly going to drop her an email and tack onto the end oh and Georgie
has tits now, I thought you should know, was he? But at least then she would
have been prepared. Because she really, really wasn't ready for the way Georgie
filled out that vest-top, the swell of her chest, the cleavage. (Later, Georgie
confided in her in a half-embarrassed, half-excited tone of voice that she had
to keep buying bigger bras and getting her costumes re-fitted because they
wouldn't stop growing.)
And then, of course, there was her face. Anna's always found Georgie pretty,
but in the ordinary, sort of disorganised way that children are, when they
haven't grown into their features yet but you can tell when they do, it's going
to look good. She just...didn't know Georgie was going to look this good. She'd
just turned fifteen, for god's sake. But she just looked so much more grown-up.
It was hard to describe. Her jaw was somehow more defined, her features harder.
There were little crinkles by her eyes when she grinned that Anna didn't
remember ever noticing before, and her lips were shiny and red with strawberry
lipbalm that she seemed to be addicted to, re-applying every ten minutes.
She'd acted just the same, and the combination had thrown Anna off completely,
making her stumble over her words and hug her clumsily. She didn't know how to
behave around this Georgie. It was like -- well, it was like someone had taken
a hot young girl and given her Georgie's voice and personality and all of her
mannerisms, and it was making Anna realise things about Georgie that she'd
never realised before.
The whole thing with Will P. only made -- makes -- the situation worse. She'd
heard about it within about ten minutes of arriving on set, from various
people. It was said -- by everybody -- that Georgie and Will P. had a 'bit of a
thing going on'. Anna dismissed it at first, assuming it was a one-way crush or
simply a rumour, but then she witnessed handholding and kisses on the cheek,
and instantly, it took over her entire mind. She wanted -- still wants -- to
know the intimate details of the relationship, and still, sometimes, can't stop
herself from imagining Will P. with his hands all over her, the two of them
entwined against a trailer, tongues in each other's mouths.
It's distressing, to say the least.
She thought, at first, that maybe she was just being protective, and comforted
herself with this, but it's obvious now that things don't quite match up. Will
P.'s a lovely boy, sweet and courteous and just a little bit shy, and maybe his
personality doesn't quite fit with Georgie's, but Anna knows that that's no
reason for her brain to keep labelling him a variety of pretty awful names
whenever he's around. And then there's her insane curiosity about the two of
them. How far have they gone? She's never even seen them kiss on the lips
before but her mind is constantly inventing racy scenarios that do nothing but
make her inexplicably furious with poor innocent Will P. And somehow, somehow,
even though she and Georgie used to stay up way into the night whispering
secrets, she has never asked Georgie a single thing about him, and Georgie has
never told.
She can hear the water running in the bathroom and she swears again. It's no
good trying to deny this attraction. She's spent several months doing that,
now, and she was actually getting pretty good at it, but then Georgie started
taking off her clothes only a wall away and Anna's imagination has started
working overtime. It's like she's literally incapable of stopping the images in
her mind, the ones of Georgie slowly peeling off her t-shirt and shrugging off
her jeans, looking at herself in the bathroom mirror before unhooking her bra,
sliding down her underwear. Underwear that Anna knows is a thong, due to that
incident at lunchtime earlier today when Georgie dropped her fork and leaned
down to pick it up. Will saw too, and while Anna sat there blushing and staring
at her plate, he just prodded Georgie in the ribs and said "I think we ought to
get you a belt, missy."
Georgie's probably stepping into the shower, now, hot water pouring over her
naked body. Anna swallows. She can't stop, now that she's started. It's like
the floodgates have opened up and every thought that she's denied herself since
that visit to set is bombarding her brain, making her throat dry and her
knickers wet, and god, the shame is literally colouring her face, making it hot
and red, and everything, everything about this is wrong. This is Georgie.
Georgie the ten year old, hyperactive silly little Georgie who was like a
younger sister to her, demanding 'cuddle time' and clapping games. Georgie the
thirteen year old, bold and confident and knowing more than they all thought
she did, and taking sips from Anna's champagne at premiere after-parties when
she thought she wasn't looking. The connection there is easy, Anna was there
for the transition. But no matter how hard she tries, the circuit fizzles out
and dies whenever she tries to jab thirteen and fifteen together. She's missed
a lot of time and maybe if she hadn't, this wouldn't be happening right now.
But it is.
She stands up suddenly, deciding she's got to try and distract herself, maybe
get a book or her mp3 player, anything. But the second she's on her feet,
there's a long wail of "Annaaaa," from the bathroom, and she freezes.
"Uh huh?" she calls back weakly.
"Come in here, this shower is retarded," Georgie shouts over the burbling sound
of the water.
Anna's instinct is to roll her eyes, but then she realises that Georgie is
asking her to come into the bathroom and then her brain seems to stop working.
"Anna!" Georgie whines again.
Anna somehow regains the control of her feet, and manages to get to the door.
But she can't open it. "Um -- George -- you need to let me in," she stammers.
"Oh, right," Georgie giggles, and Anna hears the bolt being slid aside. She
takes a deep breath and tries the door again.
Georgie's wrapped in a towel, and this hotel must be cheaper than she thought
because there really isn't enough fabric there. Georgie hasn't secured the two
ends, is just clutching them to her chest, and when she turns towards the
shower Anna catches a glimpse of her arse as she moves. She shuts her eyes
tightly for a moment, willing the image to leave her mind, but it's like it's
imprinted on the inside of her eyelids.
"It's boiling," Georgie says, and Anna opens her eyes again, bracing herself,
trying to keep her eyes focused on the shower cubicle instead of Georgie.
But then Georgie opens the door of the cubicle and leans inside, practically
bending right over to check the temperature of the water with her hand. Anna
can almost see between her legs and she just can't look away.
"I swear I've done this right," Georgie says, standing upright again and
gesturing to the shower. "Stupid thing."
Anna swallows, realising this is the part where she actually has to do
something. She heads towards the shower, reaching around the flow of water to
experiment with all of the buttons and taps on the wall. It does look pretty
complicated. She presses and turns things, and Georgie peers over her, the
warmth of her body so close. Anna can hear her breathing, can feel the tickle
of damp hair against her shoulder. She tries to concentrate, but all she can
think about it how Georgie is naked under that towel. Finally, the water seems
to get cooler.
"Oh, it was just this," Anna says, straightening up and pointing. "You weren't
twisting the knob right."
Georgie stands back and splutters with laughter.
"Georgie!" Anna admonishes her instinctively, hands on her hips.
"What? It's not my fault you've spent the entire day speaking in sexual
innuendos," Georgie retorts, and her cheeky grin practically makes Anna squirm.
"It's your fault for having such a dirty mind," she manages to respond, and
Georgie sticks out her tongue.
Anna turns towards the door immediately. She's got to get out of here. Her eyes
are darting all over the place and she's sure Georgie must be able to tell.
Something bright red catches her eye as she's leaving and she glances towards
it, seeing that it's Georgie's discarded bra, lying on top of a pile of clothes
by the sink. The thong is just underneath it, a tangle of thin black fabric,
and Anna averts her eyes, reaching for the doorknob.
"Anna?"
Anna's heart leaps into her throat. This is it. Georgie's going to ask her why
she's been acting so weird lately, she'll probably say something like what up
with the underwear obsession? and Anna's going to have to come up with a pretty
good excuse or else she's dead.
"Yeah?" she says carefully, turning around.
Georgie is standing by the side of the shower cubicle, towel pressed to her
chest with one hand. She's reaching out with her other hand, testing the water
again. "It's too cold now."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously," says Georgie gravely. "I told you it was retarded."
Anna sighs. She can't do this again. She can't go over there and stand next to
Georgie again in this situation, she just can't. Her reluctance is clearly
visible on her face because Georgie takes pity on her.
"It doesn't matter," she says, drawing the words out and heaving a sigh. "I'll
cope. It's better for it to be too cold than too hot, anyway."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Now scram."
Georgie flicks her wrist, sending a spray of water from her wet hand across the
room that doesn't quite reach Anna. The towel shifts with her movement and Anna
can't move, it's like she's rooted to the spot.
"Scram!" Georgie repeats, giggling, skipping over to the door and all but
pushing Anna into the bedroom.
Anna stumbles across the room and throws herself down on the bed immediately,
face down into her pillow. Fuck.
She stays this way for at least five minutes, going through her times tables in
her head as high as she can, and, failing that quickly, mentally reciting two
Shakespeare sonnets. But then her attention drifts. Why does Georgie have to
take such long showers? It really doesn't make any sense. She doesn't have that
much hair to wash. Then again, she thinks, remembering when they were filming
Prince Caspian, that never stopped Skandar from spending practically all
morning in the shower.
Will had some theories about what he was doing in there, though, that most
certainly did not involve washing his hair.
Oh fuck. How did she end up going down that train of thought? Now she can't
help wondering if that's why Georgie takes such long showers too, and an image
flashes into her mind -- Georgie, wet hair plastered across her face, her back
pressed against cold tiles, her fingers working quickly between her legs -- and
the floodgates have now not only been opened up, but are shattered into a
million pieces. Anna presses her hips into the mattress. She can hear her own
breathing heavy against her pillow, and she rolls over onto her front, reaching
for the zipper of her jeans. This is awful, so awful, but Georgie won't be out
of the bathroom for ages and she's sure she has enough time.
She's got her hand down the front of her knickers, and she's so wet that it
surprises her, her fingers gliding easily down over slick folds of hot skin and
it's then that she hears a sudden clunk from the bathroom. She whips her hand
out of her trousers, glancing anxiously at the door.
And that's when she sees that it's open.
Not wide open of course, but it's at least ajar, maybe even a little more. If
she stretches out and cranes her neck, she can catch a glimpse inside the
bathroom. It's all quite indistinct and she can't tell which part she's looking
at, and she's trying to work it out when she finally registers the clunk, and
comes to her senses.
She sits up. "Georgie?" she calls. No reply. She stands up. "Are you okay?"
There's a very brief silence, and then Georgie's voice comes back to her.
"Wonderful!" she replies cheerily. "Just knocked over a shampoo bottle."
"Right," says Anna. "Okay."
Great, and now she's standing up for no reason, which means that the temptation
to tiptoe towards the bathroom door and see how much she can see from this
angle is really pretty strong. You are not going to do this, she tells herself
firmly, keeping her feet flat and still on the carpet.
That lasts all of about three seconds, and then there she is, hovering in front
of the crack of the door, blood thumping in her ears. Anna Popplewell, you are
fucking pathetic, she informs herself helplessly, pressing in closer, feeling
the doorframe against her skin now. And that's when she looks -- really looks.
The shower is cold. That's why there's no condensation -- or, hardly any, at
least, not enough to be doing anything other than clouding over the corners of
the glass in a half-hearted sort of way. And so, well, she's seeing Georgie
naked. It's actually -- this surprises her -- almost exactly how she'd imagined
it. She supposes if you know someone's body fairly well when they're younger,
you have a pretty good chance of being able to picture it once it's more
mature. She supposes this because if she doesn't force herself to think logical
thoughts then she's going to dissolve into a puddle of what can only be called
arousal at the entrance to the bathroom, and she doesn't think the maids would
appreciate that.
Fuck.
Georgie turns slightly, so Anna is seeing her sideways on. She presses a soapy
washcloth to her freckled chest and sweeps it over her breasts and Anna has no
choice but to stare at them, now. Pert and pale, the nipples rosy-pink and hard
under the cold flow of water, they remind Anna of how her breasts looked at
Georgie's age. God, she can remember how excited she'd been every time she went
up a cup size. Now, they have their moments of giving her hell, but back then
they were the best thing ever and she just couldn't stop -- well --
Georgie cups one of her breasts in her hand, looking down at herself, thumbing
a hard nipple. Anna can see the water streaming down over her, her skin
glistening wet. Georgie turns again, towards the shower head now, her back to
Anna, and she tilts her face up to the shower, pulling her hair back from her
face. She arches her back and stretches up to the water, and Anna's gaze slips
down to Georgie's arse, the perfect little dimples above it, the rounded
curves, the split of her thighs...and that's when she turns again. Eyes closed,
thank god. Anna's knickers are soaked through. She shifts uncomfortably, but
the friction only adds to the problem and she clenches her teeth and -- shit,
she's already gone this far, she may as well just say fuck it all and let
herself stare.
And so she does. A neat triangle of russet hair at the juncture of Georgie's
thighs is all she sees at first, and then Georgie's feet slip further apart,
her legs spreading. Anna feels like she's throbbing against her jeans. In a
flash she's got her hand back inside them, fingers slip-sliding clumsily in her
haste to relieve the ache. She presses her palm against her clit and sighs
softly, ducking her head to get a better view. This is so fucked up, she thinks
weakly. This is so fucked up. Georgie's hand trails down over her belly, then
across to her hip, down a smooth wet thigh. Anna bites her lip and lets her
mind wander a little bit, bringing back the mental image she entertained
herself with before -- Georgie against the wall, fingers inside herself, mouth
falling open as her moans mingle with the sound of the shower -- and Anna's
eyes slip shut as she presses her hand hard against her clit and grabs hold of
the doorframe to keep herself upright.
She opens her eyes immediately, remembering where she is and just how risky
this is, praying Georgie won't see her, can't see her. But Georgie isn't
looking in her direction. She's slumped against the wall with her back curved
and her legs pushed forwards, perfectly still as the water cascades over her.
Anna watches, mesmerised, eyes taking in every inch of her body, and that's
when Georgie starts touching herself. It's slow, Anna wants to even use the
word 'teasing' although she knows Georgie isn't doing this for anybody's
benefit. She starts off with one hand cupping one of her tits again, thumb
rolling over the nipple like before, and then smoothes her palm over her
stomach and down between her slightly-parted legs.
Anna stares. She can't see exactly what's happening but Georgie's hand is
clamped tightly between her thighs and she hears a soft gasp, and that's when
she can see the hand start moving, and she grips the doorframe tightly and
slides her own finger inside herself, hot and tight, the relief so immense that
she almost comes right then and there. She moves in time with Georgie, their
rhythms matching by chance, and her gaze flickers from the movements of
Georgie's hand to the expression on her face -- dazed, blissful, her head
rocking back against the tiles with each thrust of her fingers. Anna is
stunned, her breathing heavy -- this is why Georgie takes so long in the
shower, and the possibility of her having done it before when Anna's been in
just the next room makes her grind her palm across her clit and push a second
finger between her slick folds, biting her lip, trying to keep quiet.
When she looks up, she sees that Georgie is having the same struggle. Little
whimpers are escaping her lips, still audible over the noise of the shower, and
suddenly Georgie reaches up with her free hand and clamps it over her mouth as
her back arches and her legs open wider, her fingers moving quicker and more
frantically. It's seeing this that makes Anna come, clenching around her own
fingers and trembling against the doorframe, her eyes falling closed once again
as her orgasm courses through her.
Her eyes are still shut a moment later, which is why she doesn't notice that
she's been caught until she hears the cautious, confused stammer of "A-Anna?"
from inside the bathroom.
Her eyes fly open and all she gives herself time to register is the frozen
shape of Georgie standing under the shower, her arms hanging loosely by her
sides now. And then she's pulling her hand out of her jeans, scraping it on the
zip in her hurry. It's too late, though. She knows there's no way she can cover
this up.
"What-?" Georgie says, then she suddenly flicks off the shower, pushing open
the door of it and stepping out. "Anna, come in here."
Anna swallows. Her face is bright red, she knows it, and her heart is in her
throat. "No, no," she says quickly. "No -- listen, fuck, Georgie, I'm sorry, it
wasn't even -- I'm not trying to -- listen, I'll go, I'll go home, I'm so
sorry, it was just..." She trails off.
"The premiere's tomorrow, you goon. You can't go home," is all Georgie says at
first. And then her voice softens and she says, "Anna, come in here, I'm not
mad."
Squeezing her eyes shut, Anna does as Georgie says, pushing the door wider and
stepping into the bathroom.
"Were you really--?" says Georgie, then cuts herself off. She laughs abruptly,
making Anna jump. "Oh my god, this is amazing."
Anna would not use the word 'amazing'. She would substitute 'mortifying',
perhaps. If Georgie would give her the chance.
"I," says Georgie somewhat proudly, "have a ginormous crush on you." She
giggles, then covers her mouth and calms down. "Sorry," she adds. "I've been
dreaming about saying that for ages."
Anna doesn't even consider the possibility that she's serious. It just seems
like one of those things, one of those Georgie things. She's always saying
strange things, unexpected things, and Anna can hardly concentrate on that now.
She glosses over it.
"Georgie, I'm really sorry," she says, eyes still closed because she hasn't
heard Georgie pick up a towel yet, "I don't really have an excuse. I just -- I
don't know. But are we okay?"
"We are," Georgie affirms, "but," she adds, "we could be more."
She punctuates the sentence with a kiss, hot and hard on Anna's open mouth,
sudden inexperienced lips and tongue and the heat of Georgie's wet, naked body
against hers.
"What," says Anna dumbly, finally opening her eyes and being greeted with the
sight of Georgie's face much, much closer than it has probably ever been. She
can also see her own reflection in the mirror behind Georgie, can see her
stunned, slack-jawed expression, her jeans still open and exposing a rumpled
triangle of underwear, her blouse rucked up.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," Georgie says. She looks a little dazed
herself, but in a different way.
"How long?"
"I know the exact date that it first occurred to me," Georgie tells her, "but
it was a very long time ago, and it might freak you out if I did the
calculations."
Anna tries very hard to keep her eyes on Georgie's face, but her eyes are drawn
to droplets of water trickling down Georgie's breasts and thighs, and to damp
dark hair between legs, and to dustings of freckles in places she has never
been able to examine so closely.
"What," she forces herself to say again, but has a follow-up this time, "about
Will P.?"
Georgie wrinkles her nose. "Boys are gross," she says off-handedly, and the
sentence combined with her expression make her seem so incredibly young, which
makes Anna feel slightly ill at ease.
"They're not all bad," she says.
"I don't know why you're trying to convince me," Georgie snorts.
Anna doesn't, either, so she doesn't say anything, and then Georgie giggles at
her, and it's so weird, because it's really just like it's always been between
the two of them. She sort of blinks and stares at Georgie's eyes -- god, so
gorgeous, shining and blue -- and her smile, which is quirky and michievous and
Anna doesn't really have time to process anything else before the smile becomes
a pout and Georgie's fingers are toying with the collar of Anna's blouse.
"What--" she says, then gives herself a few seconds to think, as Georgie's
fingers work calmly down the buttons. "Why are you being so calm about this?
And what are you doing?" she manages eventually.
"I'm taking off your clothes," Georgie informs her, ignoring the first question
and giggling again, girlish and cheeky. "I thought you wouldn't want them to
get wet."
"Wet?" Anna repeats helplessly.
"In the shower," says Georgie, "which we are going to get into together." Her
tone is matter-of-fact but her eyes are wicked as she raises an eyebrow and her
knuckles brush Anna's chest.
"You," says Anna, stunned, "you," she says again, trying to get her head around
it, "you fancy me. You really do."
"I really do," Georgie confirms. "I can't believe you never realised." She
laughs. "Obviously, I really am a good actress," she preens, teasingly.
"You are," Anna agrees.
"And you," says Georgie, glancing first to the open door and then to Anna's
open jeans, "are a pervert."
She punctuates this sentence with a flick of Anna's last blouse button, and
looks up at her, grinning. Anna nods in agreement, defeatedly, as Georgie leans
in eagerly for another kiss. She's starting to wonder if that's really such a
bad label after all.
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