atehimrightup | for george

George pulls him so fiercely that Lee is a little surprised by it, arms hanging at his sides for a moment before he curls them around George’s waist. His brow furrows at the admission and he rolls his lips into his mouth, feeling so fiery with rage that he shakes with it.

“Jesus,” he breathes out, lifting one hand to grip the back of George’s neck, squeezing in a way that he hopes is comforting.

He can see why someone would try to use George as a tool, is the thing. His beauty is astounding, almost ethereal, and could so easily be wielded as a weapon. It doesn’t make it right, though. And for it to be wielded by his own mother, well— Lee knows what it’s like to be betrayed by a parent on a fundamental level.

“Is that what you meant when you said you were trained?” Lee asks in a low voice. At the time, he hadn’t given it too much thought. Now, it’s horrifying.

“Jesus,” he says again, at a loss for words and nearly incandescent with rage. But anger will help nothing right now, so he takes a breath and turns his head to press his mouth to George’s temple.

He'll consider the implications later, but right then, it feels good to cling to Lee, to accept the kisses, the arms around him.

"When I was twenty, she packed me off to France for a year. I learned to dance, to fence, fluent French." A smile twitches the corner of his mouth. "To fuck men. I'd always looked, obviously, but it wasn't until I met Jean that I realised that I was allowed to do more." He shifts, resting his forehead against Lee's again. "And, when I came home, she set her cap at the King. He was well known to...care more for men than women."

For a long time, Lee isn't sure what to say. He does his best to process it all, but it's a hard thing to imagine for a kid who grew up dirt poor in rural Kentucky. It's a different life, a different world entirely, but the fact of the matter is that the people in Geroge's life failed him.

"The first time I fucked you, it was because of how you looked," Lee begins quietly, rubbing a hand up and down George's back. "And hell, probably the second time, too. But it's not why I kept seeking you out."

He pulls back enough to look at George's face, cradling it in his hands. He opens his mouth and closes it again, trying to fight against the instinct telling him to keep everything to himself and not expose his tender underbelly. "I've been with you more times than I've ever been with anyone else in my entire life, George. But it's not your beauty or all your stupid training that makes me keep coming back. It's you, okay? It's just you."

He smiles at that, his eyes drifting closed at the sensation of Lee's hand stroking over his skin, the water lapping around his waist.

"Same," he murmurs. "I remember thinking I'd never seen anyone who looked quite like you."

When Lee pulls back and takes his face in his hands, it feels almost unbearably intimate, and George has to fight the urge to squirm away and hide. Instead, he wraps his hands around Lee's biceps, squeezing gently.

"I keep coming back too," he says, softly. "For no reason other than I'm happier when you're there."

It isn't just the sex. He's known that for a long while.

Lee smiles and it's a hesitant, shaky thing. He strokes his thumb across George's cheekbone, and then the corner of his eye.

"So you don't just want me around for my filthy mouth?" He asks quietly, and he means for it to come out as a joke, but he wants reassurance. He doesn't want to want it, but he does. He wants to be important to someone, and he stares at George with big, wet eyes, hating how vulnerable he feels.

"I? Am a fucking idiot," says George, turning his head to press a kiss to the heel of Lee's hand, his words edged with laughter. He looks back at Lee, his dark and watchful eyes, the scatter of frecklesl like a constellation across the bridge of his nose. He leans in and brushes his lips against Lee's. "A fucking idiot who is very, very sorry." This time, it's a proper kiss, deep and soft, his hand curling around the back of Lee's neck to hold him to it. "Of course I want you for more than that."

George's initial response makes him chuckle softly and he shakes his head a little, but George kisses him before he can say anything. It's a good kiss, with Geroge's hand firm at the back of his neck, and Lee melts into it with a soft whimper of a sound, putting his hands on George's hips as he returns it.

"I think we're both kind of stupid," Lee admits, but his expression softens at the reassurance. It floods his belly with warmth, and that makes Lee feel a little stupid, too. Of course he would get turned on by sweet talk.

"I am glad that you enjoy my filthy mouth, for the record," he says with a grin that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. He gives George another kiss and then hugs him, voice quiet as he hooks his chin over George's shoulder. "But I'm glad you like other parts of me, too."

Not all of him, though. The realization makes his stomach sink like a stone and the guilt nearly brings him to his knees, but he vows to never let that dark part of him touch George's life in any way.

"I wouldn't spend this much time with you, if I didn't," says George, skimming his hand from the base of Lee's neck all the way down to his tailbone and back. He says it flippantly, but there's a lot of truth in it -- here, he has complete choice, and yet he seeks out Lee again and again, for more than a year now. He still doesn't know exactly what they're doing here, knows that it doesn't necessarily need a name, but it feels good to sink into, all the same.

"Now what?" he says. "After I came so close to derailing everything."

"Mm, well," Lee breathes out with a smile, telling himself to focus on this present moment and nothing else, because it's such a good one. "I could slap you in the face again. That might make me feel better."

He's obviously teasing, laughing as he takes George's chin between his thumb and forefinger, urging him back toward the shore. "Come on. I want you to make me feel good." He stops to kiss George, one hand sliding into his damp hair to pull at the roots of it. "You can show me how much you like me." His other hand slides up George's stomach and chest, pausing to thumb oh so gently at one of his pierced nipples, knowing how much George likes it when pleasure and pain merge into one heady sensation. "You could put your tongue inside me. Maybe your fingers if you're lucky."

"You can slap me anywhere you like. I..." His breath catches when Lee teases the pad of his thumb over the piercing in his nipple, pain spiking through him, making his cock twitch. "Sounds like you've got a lot of ideas. Plenty of ways for me to make myself useful." He grins. "Good. I like to be useful."

“I’m counting down the days until I can make good use of these,” Lee tells him, dragging his thumb over the piercing with just a little more pressure before dropping his hand. “I will reduce you to rubble.”

He kisses George again, more eagerly this time, feet slipping over wet rocks until they’re back on dry land. He keeps moving backward, kissing George more and more fervently until they reach the blanket and Lee lies down on his back, eyes dark as he stares up at George. “Get down here.”

"Oh, I'm sure you will," says George, and, honestly, Lee might as well be leading him by the cock, he follows so smoothly. Lee lies back on the blanket, and George just stands and looks at him for a moment, cock half hard, eyes heavy lidded. "For the record," he says, as he sinks down onto his knees. "I didn't love the context, but the tone of voice you told me to get on my hands and knees before? I definitely wouldn't mind hearing it again."

“What, me pissed off?” Lee jokes, knowing exactly what George means. “Noted.”

Given what he’s learned about George, it’s not unreasonable to worry that he might not actually enjoy sex, especially rough sex, as much as he claims. It could have been conditioned into him, but Lee doesn’t think so. George genuinely loves it, and Lee loves the content, spacey look that he gets on his face when he’s horribly turned on.

Lee stares up at him, making a show of spreading himself out and lifting his arms to put his hands behind his head. His cock is starting to fill against his thigh and he studies George for a moment, smiling placidly before he clears his throat.

“Get on your hands and knees now then,” he says in a low growl of a command, jerking his chin a little to motion toward his crotch. “Get me hard with just your mouth.”

"I don't want to be the reason that you're pissed off," says George, sinking down to sit on his heels. "But I Like the tone of voice." He watches as Lee arranges himself and then, when Lee gives the order, a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. He makes a point of arranging himself first, on all fours, arse in the air.

"Your wish, my command," he murmurs, before he bends his head and licks a stripe along the length of Lee's filling cock.

“I’m not pissed off at all now,” Lee assures him, watching as George arranges himself so beautifully. The glow of the moon makes him look unreal, so beautiful that it nearly takes Lee’s breath away, and that’s even before he watches that clever pink tongue drag up the length of his cock.

“There’s a good little slut,” Lee breathes out, resisting the urge to reach down and touch him. “Put it in your mouth, all of it.”

George makes a soft sound of assent and shifts, bending lower on hands and knees. It's ungainly, but Lee had told him that he couldn't use his hands, and the dull humilation of it makes his face hot and his cock ache. He manages to get his mouth over the head of Lee's cock, sucking lightly, his cheeks hollowing, before he starts to work his mouth lower. Lee's cock isn't quite as big as his own, but its big enough, beautiful, a definite mouthful.

Without knowing it, George has given Lee a gift. He now gets to know what it’s like to feel powerful not through intimidation or fear, but something else. Something good.

Lee shifts his arms until he can push himself up onto his elbows, watching as his cock sinks into George’s mouth. It doesn’t take long at all for it to thicken against George’s tongue, stiffening so quickly that it feels as if all the blood in Lee’s body has rushed southward.

“Look how much you love it,” Lee growls out, curling his hands into fists to keep from reaching for him. Not yet, not yet.

He watches the muscles in George’s arms and shoulders shift as he lowers himself, keeping his palms pressed obediently to the blanket.

“Swallow it,” Lee barks out. “I want to feel it in your throat, little whore.”

He isn’t used to talking like this during sex, and it started for George’s benefit but he likes it, too. It makes his heart pound, satisfying some predatory urge deep inside him without anyone getting hurt.

Its far from the worst thing that he's been called during sex, but it still makes his cheeks flush pleasantly. He glances up, eyes dark, before he breathes in through his nose and pushes his mouth lower, until the head of Lee's cock slides into his throat, until he can swallow around it. Of all the things that Jean taught him in France, this one might be the most useful.

He holds it for as long as he can before he pulls back to breathe. Submitting like this feels glorious, particularly because he's not doing it for anything. No means to any end. Just this. Just them.

Lee’s eyelids flutter and he exhales as his cock sinks into the tight sheath of George’s throat, head tipping back as he revels in the sensation.

George pulls back enough to take in air and Lee allows him to fill his lungs before shooting a hand out to grab the back of his neck, squeezing firmly as he pulls him down and rocks his hips up at the same time, shoving his cock back into George’s throat.

Lee holds him there for a long moment, watching as his eyes start to water. “You breathe when I say you can.” He puts a sharper edge in his tone, fingers twisting in George’s hair. “Stay.”

That goes right to his cock, the combination of Lee's tone and what he says, the fingers tight in George's dark hair. His throat works around the head of Lee's cock. He trusts Lee not to hurt him, trusts him not to push it too far. He makes a muffled sound that sounds dangerously like a moan.

Lee smirks to himself at the sound George makes, holding him down firmly but watching closely for signs of discomfort.

The sight of George’s nose pressed into Lee’s pelvic bone is so stunning that he fumbles around for his phone, opening the camera so he can snap a few pictures. And then he starts a video, recording as tension builds, waiting for the moment it just starts to become too much.

“Up,” he says finally, letting go of George’s head so he can lift it and take in the most beautiful, gasping breath as Lee’s cock falls from his mouth, lips red and swollen. Lee captures it all with his camera. “That’s good, sweetheart. Such a good slut for me.”

Lee grins, moving the camera in closer to George’s face, wanting to embarrass him only because he knows George likes it. “Smile for the camera, baby. Let me see your tongue.”

"Lee. Fuck. I..." He has a sudden image of how he must look on the screen, naked on his hands and knees, cock flushed and hard between spread thighs. His face burns but, after a moment's hesitatio, he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, dark eyelashes fluttering like he's being kissed.

“Perfect,” Lee coos, reaching out to cup George’s cheek, thumbing at his obscene mouth. “You’re perfect.”

He watches the screen as he shoves his thumb into George’s mouth, lips closing around the digit like he just can’t help himself. No one else will ever see this video, but Lee knows he’ll get a lot of use out of it.

Eventually he stops the recording and tosses his phone aside, focusing all of his attention on George. He puts one hand on the back of George’s head and the other around the base of his own cock, guiding it back into George’s mouth.

“Be a good boy,” Lee tells him, letting his hand fall from his cock as he rocks his hips up, fucking George’s mouth. “Moan for me. Let me hear how much you love having my cock in your mouth.”

George goes back to sucking Lee's cock eagerly, moaning loudly, the sound muddled by the weight of Lee's cock on his tongue. It feels obscene doing it outside, under the sky, even though he knows there's no-one around to hear.

Even if there was, George has fucked in front of people before. It wouldn't make any difference.

“Fuck, you love this so much,” Lee gasps out, in awe of the sight before him. He groans, twisting his fingers in George’s hair and pulling as he fucks into his mouth.

He keeps going until he’s so, so close and then pulls on George’s hair hard enough to yank his head back, letting Lee’s cock fall from it and denying them both.

“Look at you. Like a dog trying to get back at a bone,” Lee teases, watching as George’s mouth strains toward his cock. He’s tempted to let him, but instead he shifts his weight and draws his knees up, heels against the blanket as he spreads his legs wide, hips tilting up as he lifts one long leg to drape it over George’s shoulder.

“Now hold my ass in your hands and lick me open,” Lee commands, and that gets him blushing, too. That isn’t something that was ever done to him much before George, and Lee has come to love it very much. “I want it wet and messy.”

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