atehimrightup | for george

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george

for george

There's this swimming hole that Lee found on one of his long walks through the woods. It doesn't seem like many people know about it, hidden within a thick copse of trees. The water seems relatively clean, and Lee has spent more nights there as the weather gets warmer.

Nearby is an old cabin that looks as if it's been abandoned and Lee thinks about breaking a window to get inside, but something always stops him. Peering through the dusty window is like looking into a time capsule. Or a tomb. There's something about the place that sets his lizard brain on edge, like there's something bigger and scarier than a predator like him lurking nearby. Mostly, he leaves the place alone.

It's another balmy night and Lee pulls on a pair of cut off denim shorts and a tee, preparing to head out on his own. As he reaches for the doorknob, he pauses and pulls his phone out of his pocket to send a text to George. He feels a bit territorial over the spot and doesn't necessarily want to share, but George is exempt from that. George seems to be exempt from most of Lee's rules.

Do you want to go somewhere with me? I can be in front of your place in ten minutes.

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The fact that Lee obeys without question, exposes himself so utterly, sends a warm feeling sinking through George's chest. He reaches for the lube discarded on the blanket and slicks his cock, and then he shifts, positioning the head against Lee and pushing into him in one long, slow thrust.

After taking four fingers, there's barely any resistance at all. It's glorious.

He’s still so sensitive, his own cock still half hard against his hip, so when George’s cock sinks into him all at once, Lee lets out a whimpering yelp and almost instinctively tries to shy away from the overstimulation.

“Stay. Stay still for a sec,” Lee gasps out, hooking his legs over George’s hips and staring up at him, starry-eyed. Before George, he’s not sure he knew that men could even fuck in this position. It’s startlingly intimate. He can see why most men don’t.

“Come here,” he murmurs, putting one hand on the back of George’s head to draw him in for a kiss while his other hand comes down onto George’s ass with a firm slap, fingertips digging in as he uses that grip to try and haul him in even closer.

Lee pulls him in for a kiss, slaps his ass, and still George holds himself still, lets Lee adjust to the full length of his cock so soon after coming. Eventually, slowly, he shifts his hips, thrusting shallowly. Even that's enough to turn him breathless.

"Tell me how you want me to fuck you," he says, trembling with the effort of holding himself in check.

George’s arms are shaking as he holds himself back, teeth gritted and cheeks flushed. Still, he moves so slowly, and Lee feels a bit in awe.

“Just like this. Slow,” Lee says seriously, keeping a straight face for a moment before his expression shifts into a lazy, playful grin.

He still feels shivery and oversensitive, but that’s part of what makes it good. Lee slaps his ass again, fingers dipping between his cheeks to rub at George’s hole. All of this has been unexpected and lovely, but Lee is going to get in there before the night is through. He’s been thinking about it for days.

“You can let go,” Lee assures him, nodding and lifting his head to press a kiss to George’s mouth. “C’mon, baby,” he says, biting George’s bottom lip and giving it a little tug before smacking him again, infatuated with the look on George’s face when he does. He grins again, unable to help himself. “You want to be wild. Be wild for me.”

The way that Lee touches him, the slaps and the fingers between his cheeks, is possessive in a way that goes straight to George's cock. When Lee tells him to go slow, he groans softly, ducking his head but, when Lee gives him permission, he grins. He bends his head to take a form, hungry kiss and then he starts to move, his hips snapping, plunging his cock into Lee to the root and then almost all of the day out before he slams back in.

"Like that?"

Lee smiles into the kiss, gripping the back of his neck firmly. George’s hips start to move like a piston, letting Lee feel the drag of every single inch of him both in and out. Lee gulps and nods, breathing unsteadily and closing his eyes as his back arches.

“It’ll do in a pinch,” he grits out, like he’s not writhing like a girl in a porno. “Fuck, George, yeah. Just like that.”

With his free hand, he gropes along Lee's thigh, tugging it higher on his hips, changing the angle slightly as they fuck. He kisses Lee again, unable to get as close as he wants in as many ways as he wants. It isn't going to take long to come, he knows that. He doesn't care. He wants everything all at once.

At this point, Lee doesn’t even care if he comes again. It just feels so good to have George inside him, to feel full and satiated without any of the bad parts.

George kisses him again and Lee yelps into his mouth as the angle changes, digging the back of his heel into George’s ass while clinging to him almost desperately. He’s sure he’s leaving claw marks on George’s back.

Somehow he doesn’t think George will mind, which just makes it even hotter.

"I can't," says George, the syllables sobbing out or him, smudging against Lee's lips. Every stroke of his cock feels like it's pulling him closer to an edge he feels like he's been skirting for a long time. He can't resist it for much longer. His hips stutter.

"Tell me I can come?"

Lee hadn’t realized that George was waiting for permission, but he supposes that makes sense. Or more likely, he just wants to be told.

“I told you what I wanted,” Lee growls out in a stern voice, biting George’s jaw hard enough to sting. “So do as you’re told. Come inside me.” Lee smiles against his cheek even while keeping his voice firm. “My little whore.”

It's enough -- the combination of the bite and the tone and the words, the name calling. His hips shivering, he slams his cock into Lee's arse and he comes as hard as he's ever come in his life, his head spinning with the force of it. He sees stars.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he mumbles, when there's nothing left but aftershocks.

Lee feels George’s orgasm as if it were his own. Like their bodies have become one. He cries out as George does, leaving a scratch across the back of his neck with the nail of his middle finger.

His body feels like it’s vibrating, hips twitching like they have a mind of their own, and Lee collapses flat on his back to blink dazedly up at the night sky.

“I don’t think he had anything to do with this,” Lee pants out after a moment, laughing breathlessly and digging both heels into George’s thighs even as the rest of his body goes lax. “Don’t you fucking dare pull out yet.”

George slumps his full weight across Lee, unwilling or unable to move himself. Lee had wanted him to stay inside him for as long as he could last time, and he's got no intention of going anywhere until he has to. The scrape on the back of his neck stings, but he doesn't have it in him to care.

"Your wish, my command," he murmurs.

“So eager to please,” Lee says with a warm chuckle, sliding his hand soothingly up and down George’s back. Everything feels so nice and warm, like he’s floating even George is so heavy on top of him. This must be the fabled afterglow.

“Hm, I wonder what else works on you,” he muses, turning his head to press a kiss to George’s temple. “Harlot? Jezebel?”

He huffs a laugh at that, turning his head to burrow closer, his face tucked into Lee's neck.

"Not those," he says. "Too biblical." He presses a kiss against Lee's skin, tastes sweat. "You'll have to keep trying."

“Good point,” he says with a laugh, tipping his head back to make more room for George’s kisses. He can’t seem to stop smiling.

“Tart,” he says fondly. “I like that one.”

He slides his hand up to touch the back of George’s neck, brow furrowing when his fingers skitter over raised skin and the stickiness of drying blood. It’s not a lot, not by far, but it still makes Lee go tense, tugging his hand away from George’s neck.

“I hurt you,” he says in a wounded voice. He hurts George during sex all the time, but that’s different. He’s never drawn blood before, and his nostrils flare as guilt floods him. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

"Had that one before. Don't mind it," murmurs George, still kissing. "There's probably not much I haven't heard at least once."

All of a sudden, Lee is pulling away from him, and he's in such a dreamy haze that it takes him a moment to realise what's happening. He lifts his hand, covering the scratch on the back of his neck. "It's nothing," he says. "It barely stings. And, anyway, I don't mind it. Being, you know..." He lifts his head so that he can look Lee in the face. "Marked."

“No, I know. I just—“ George pulls back to look at him but Lee’s wide eyes are locked on his own fingertips, trembling slightly. It’s barely a spot of blood, and Lee hears a rushing between his ears for a moment.

“I didn’t mean to make you bleed,” he says quietly, still looking at the blood on his fingertips. George has no way of knowing what is going on in Lee’s head right now, or just how close he is to danger. Lee tells himself to just wipe his hand on the blanket, but he can’t seem to make himself do it.

Instead he quickly brings his fingertips to his mouth and sucks them clean, catching George’s eyes briefly and flushing red, turning his head away before forcing his hand out of his mouth, feeling his belly clench with hunger and shame. “But good, we’re good. It’s okay.”

George is not entirely sure what's going on in that moment. His cock almost soft, he slips to the side, staying pressed in against Lee, watching as he sucks the smear of blood from his fingers. He seems so deeply ashamed of it but, given some of the other things they've done, George isn't sure he sees the problem.

"Given all the come that I've not long swallows, I'm not sure we should be concerned about a tiny smear of blood," he says. He bends his head, kissing Lee's chest.

“Right,” Lee replies, swallowing hard. He’s relieved by the reaction, but his heart is still pounding in his chest, and he can still smell George’s blood. It’s such a small amount of it but it smells like George’s lust and arousal and Lee wants to taste more of it so, so badly.

He won’t. He can’t, and he knows he isn’t going to lose control, but he’s ashamed enough just by the desire.

“Right,” he says again as George kisses him, a little more clearly. Lee hadn’t batted an eye when George methodically licked every drop of come from his skin. He’d been horribly aroused by it, even. It does put things a little into perspective. “I guess maybe it isn’t that different.”

"Not that different at all from where I'm lying," says George, planting one last kiss to Lee's ribs before sprawling back on the blanket with one arm pillowed under his head. "I've had worse, anyway. I wouldn't worry about it, sweetheart." He turns his head. "Are you done with me for the night, or is this just respite?"

He knows the answer he would prefer, anyway. It seems like Lee could do with being distracted from whatever was is raging in his own head right then.

The nonchalance takes Lee by surprise, and he stares at George like he’s something of a marvel. George doesn’t have all the information, and perhaps just thinks this is a quirk of Lee’s, but he’s fine with him thinking that. It’s not entirely incorrect, anyway.

George eases his mind so easily, reassuring him and calling him pet names, and Lee just stares at him with liquid eyes, like he’s the best thing Lee has ever seen. That’s not entirely incorrect, either.

“I am never done with you,” Lee says as he seems to come back to himself, rolling onto his side and reaching out to put his hand on George’s chest, thumbing idly near one of his pierced nipples. He is awash with fondness that he leans in to press a soft kiss to George’s shoulder. “I am only ever resting.”

The thumb is a tease, and George shifts against the blanket, smiling softly. Sex might have been currency, but it's also been his favourite thing for years, and he's rarely been with anyone who makes him feel so good as Lee manages to.

"Simple is often best," he says, returning to s previous conversation, fingers stroking gently against Lee's skin. "Slut is the most obvious, but the King was fond of 'cunt', and that was effective in the moment, too."

“I called my sister a cunt and she punched me in the face,” Lee says almost absentmindedly. “I don’t care what the king liked. But if you truly like it, I’ll work it into the rotation.

Lee kisses along the top of George’s shoulder and then breathes against the side of his neck for moment before touching his nose to it, gently nudging to try and get him to turn so he can reach the back of his neck, almost nuzzling him.

“Is it— can I?” Lee asks quietly, even though he knows he shouldn’t. There is a line blurring somewhere, maybe even several, but Lee can’t bring himself to care right now.

George is quiet for a moment, shifting as Lee directs him until he's lying on his side with his back to Lee.

"I like it," he says. "If the mood takes you. I promise not to punch you in the face." He closes his eyes as Lee brushes against his skin. "Can you what?"

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