Lee (
atehimrightup) wrote2025-07-14 11:59 am
Entry tags:
for george
There's a food truck festival in Petros Park that night, and Lee takes George mostly so he can see his face while trying new things, like squid balls and deep fried cheesecake. It's a good time and once they're full, neither of them are ready for the night to end so they wind up at a bar not far from George's place.
It's sort of mid-tier, not super nice but not a total dive, either. They get a few rounds at the bar, leaning against each other and laughing, and Lee realizes that he's drunk sort of all of a sudden, like it snuck up on him. It makes him more handsy, makes him bite at George's shoulder through the sleeve of his shirt. It makes him notice how many eyes are on George all the time.
The bartender brings them a round of tequila shots on a little tray complete with a salt shaker and lime wedges, and Lee looks up at him questioningly.
"We didn't order this," Lee tells him, and the bartender waves him off and tells him someone asked for them to be sent over. "Who?"
The bartender just shrugs and turns away to help a group of rowdy young women, and Lee glances at the shots before looking around the room a bit suspiciously. "Hm."
It's sort of mid-tier, not super nice but not a total dive, either. They get a few rounds at the bar, leaning against each other and laughing, and Lee realizes that he's drunk sort of all of a sudden, like it snuck up on him. It makes him more handsy, makes him bite at George's shoulder through the sleeve of his shirt. It makes him notice how many eyes are on George all the time.
The bartender brings them a round of tequila shots on a little tray complete with a salt shaker and lime wedges, and Lee looks up at him questioningly.
"We didn't order this," Lee tells him, and the bartender waves him off and tells him someone asked for them to be sent over. "Who?"
The bartender just shrugs and turns away to help a group of rowdy young women, and Lee glances at the shots before looking around the room a bit suspiciously. "Hm."

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Once they’re inside, Lee flicks on the flight and immediately slips out of his sneakers before turning to look at George, who is so beautiful that Lee can barely stand it. Lee’s blood is stark on his face, a heavy contrast against his pale skin and dark hair. He looks wild, and it makes Lee ache.
“I’m sorry I didn’t just hang back and let you verbally eviscerate that asshole,” Lee says as he closes the distance between them, reaching out to put his hands on George’s hips. “I’m sure it would have been way hotter than me punching him.”
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"I don't know," says George, lifting one hand to hold Lee's chin, head slightly tilted. "You punching him was pretty hot." The modern parlance sounds odd coming out of his mouth. He takes another kiss.
"What do you want to eat?" He asks, his thumb stroking against Lee's skin. "You wash up, and I'll order something?"
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But then George asks him what he wants to eat and there’s only one real answer. It brings Lee back down to earth a little bit, but he’s also drunk enough that it makes him laugh. What a complicated question!
“Literally whatever you want,” Lee tells him, because he honestly doesn’t care as long as it’s food and George is there. He kisses the corner of George’s mouth, lapping at the blood there and biting softly at his bottom lip, more of a playful nip that anything. “You need to wash up, too. Even though you look very pretty like this.”
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He's aware that he has blood on him wherever Lee has touched him -- mostly his face and his neck -- and, probably, it should bother him more but, mostly, it makes him think of that day at the hunt when James smeared his face with deer blood and the whole trajectory of his life shifted.
"Indian, maybe," he says. "I can wash my face after I order."
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He pulls away and turns to head toward the bathroom, and then stops and soon as he remembers something, turning around to point at George with both hands.
“Oh, I do still wanna do body shots,” he says with an eager nod. “I did not forget about the body shots.”
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"Of course you didn't," says George, fondly. He heads I go his bedroom, stripping off his bloodied shirt and grabbing a t-shirt from a drawer. He pulls up the app on his phone and orders some things they'll both like.
"Help yourself to any clothes you want," he calls as he pads past the bathroom. He's always enjoyed the infrequent occasions when Lee's ended up wearing something of his.
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He strips out of his clothes and rinses himself off, scrubbing away blood and washing it away in the sink. After drying off, he finds a butterfly bandage in the cabinet and puts it on the wound. The cut on his knuckle isn’t bad enough to need one, so at least there’s that.
Only in his underwear, he walks into the bedroom and looks through George’s clothes. Most of them are too nice for lounging, but he finds a cornflower blue tee and pulls it on before heading out toward the living room to find George.
“There. I am clean,” Lee declares, dragging a hand through his messy hair. He stops short when he sees George looking down at his phone, so casual even with streaks of blood on his face. It drives Lee a little insane.
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"And...ordered," says George, looking up with a smile than blooms brighter when he sees Lee standing there in his shirt. "That colour suits you. I suppose I should go and wash my face."
He sets his phone down on the counter and walks closer.
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It’s a good kiss, hungry and passionate with lots of tongue, and Lee backs up until his ass hits the edge of the kitchen table, practically growling.
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Lee kisses him like he's hungry, and George is content to give himself over to it completely, one hand cradling the side of Lee's face. When Lee's arse hits the edge of the table, George reaches down, hooking one of Lee's long legs higher against his thigh, hitching their hips closer together.
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“You look so good like this,” he rasps out, kissing his way along George’s jaw and down the side of his neck, smelling the copper tang of his own blood. It’s easier to deal with, being his own, but it still makes him a little crazy. “God, I wanted to kill him.”
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He's seen Lee's reaction to blood before, but this is something new. He tips his head back, giving Lee's mouth more room to work.
"Maybe I don't need to wash my face right away," he says, teasing. "I could stay like this."
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“You could,” Lee murmurs, dragging his teeth lightly over George’s pulse. It’s such a dangerous thing that George is indulging in right now, and if Lee were a better man he might tell him to stop. But he’s not.
He kisses his way down to the open collar of George’s shirt and then takes his hand, fingertips still smeared with Lee’s blood. He leans back a little and brings George’s hand to his mouth, making eye contact as takes two fingers past his lips, cheeks hollowing as he sucks on them.
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He loves his fingers in Lee's mouth, love the way it looks, the way it feels -- hot and liquid in a way that goes right to his cock. That said, it's never been quite like this, with that dark and dizzying look in Lee's eyes. The hand still on Lee's thigh tightens, fingers on the other hand crooking slightly to fuck Lee's mouth shallowly.
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He lets go of George to lean back a little, planting his palms against the table as his cock starts to tent his underwear. Once there’s no hint of blood left, Lee pulls back to take in a deep breath.
“You taste sweeter than me,” Lee rasps out, licking his lips before pulling George’s ring and pinky fingers into his mouth to give them the same treatment.
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"I don't know about that," says George, his eyes dark as he watches Lee suck his fingers. His eyes track down Lee's wiry frame to his cock, undeniable proof of just how much Lee is enjoying this.
He doesn't touch it, though. Not yet.
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His hands ball into fists on the table and he pulls back only so he can capture George’s thumb in his mouth instead, suckling at it while looking him in the eye.
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"You look like such a pretty slut doing that," says George, his voice pitched low, soft with wonder. He'd always enjoyed fucking Lee but, over the last few weeks, something has definitely changed.
"Tell me what you want, sweet boy. Let me hear it."
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The demand makes him go still, cheeks flushing as he holds George’s thumb gently between his teeth. He can’t tell the truth, not right now, so he says nothing at all. He just shakes his head a little and presses his palms into the table, eyes falling shut as he sucks more eagerly at George’s thumb.
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He can usually coax Lee into it, but there's something do final about the way Lee shakes his head. Gently, George pushes the fingers of his free hand into Lee's hair, changing the angle of his head so that he can look him in the eyes.
"I want to fuck you," he admits, pushing his thumb further into Lee's mouth, against his tongue.
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But he won’t. Instead he nods eagerly and leans back, letting George’s thumb fall from his mouth with a scrape of teeth. His back hits the table and he draws his knees up, resting his heels on the backs of the two chairs on either side of George’s hips.
“Then fuck me,” he breathes out, staring at the blood on George’s face as he licks the corner of his own swollen mouth, chasing the taste.
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"Not like that," admits George, his hands on Lee's slim hips. Normally, with Lee, he's more careful, always mindful of Lee's need to be treated like he's good, like he matters. Tonight, though, there's something fizzing through him, and he wonders if it might be a night they both indulge themselves.
"I want to flip you over and fuck you," he admits. "I want to fuck you so hard you feel it all day tomorrow."
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He takes a deep breath and nods, lowering his legs and pulling himself to his feet in front of George. He moves his body with a feline grace, pulling the shirt over his head and shaking out his curls, standing in front of George with something of a challenge in his expression. “Then do it.”
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An hour ago, he watched Lee fight and, now more than ever, he's confident that Lee could stop him (or, the very least, hurt him) if he ever did anything he didn't want. It would never come to that; George intends to earn every bit of trust that he has in him.
He steps in, fingers curling in around Lee's neck to pull him in for a hungry, bruising kiss.
"What are you going to say if you want me to stop?"
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“Off,” he says after a moment, pulling back to look at George again. He doesn’t think it’ll be an issue, but he likes that George asks him anyway. “If I say off three times, I’m tapping out.”
Lee opens his mouth and closes it again, swallowing hard and looking at George almost desperately. “Will you bite me?”
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