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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"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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"I believe you could," says George, mouth hitching into a crooked smile. He strokes down the side of Lee's face. He nods. "Yes," he says. "But you're going to tell me where and how hard."
He takes another kiss.
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They kiss hard, teeth catching on each other’s lips and Lee pulls back to stare at George’s obscene mouth, picturing his teeth stained pink with blood. It makes his cock throb and he feels sick, but it’s not as bad this time. George doesn’t seem to think anything is wrong with him. At least not with the information he has, and that’s enough. It’s more than he ever thought he would get.
“Are you going to keep talking about it,” Lee says with a playful challenge in his tone, quirking a brow and grabbing at George’s hips. “Or are you gonna fuckin’ do it?”
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Rolling his eyes, George steps back enough to take Lee by the hips and spin him, pressing in against him with his hips and chest, bending him at the waist. He hooks his thumbs under the waistband of Lee's underwear and drags them down around his ankles, before he lands a solid slap on one cheek of his arse.
"Spread," he says.
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His breath hitches when George slaps him. It’s just enough pain for it to buzz through him, setting his nerve endings alight.
“Yes, sir,” Lee chirps out, being a brat to, perhaps, give George a taste of his own medicine. He lifts one foot and kicks his underwear aside, pressing his chest and forearms into the table as he spreads his legs and locks his knees, tilting his ass up at a needy, obscene angle.
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"Oh, I don't mind that at all," says George, his words edged with laughter, even as he smoothes a steadying hand against the small of Lee's back, stroking his thumb against his skin. "Although, technically, my Lord would be more accurate.. As an Earl." He traces the pad of his thumb down the cleft of Lee's arse, teasing against his hole. "Hm. I need to go and fetch the lube." He lands another slap. "Stay right there."
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“Yes, my lord,” he says in a low voice, turning his head to rest his cheek against the cool, smooth surface of the table. “Whatever you say.”
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In all honesty, he's not entirely sure how he feels about hearing that from Lee but, honestly, it works in the moment, so he doesn't correct him. On his way to the bedroom, he unbuttons his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders and leaving it where it falls. He grabs the lube from his bedside table and pads back into the kitchen, jeans riding low on his hips. He takes in the way Lee looks, splayed out against the table like that, and he takes a moment to linger and take him in. Eating at that table is never going to be the same again.
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Their eyes meet and Lee swallows hard, pressing his chest into the table and lifting his arms to cross his wrists at the small of his back.
“I’m yours for the taking,” Lee rasps out, swaying his hips as enticingly as he can manage and smirking the slightest bit. “Sir.”
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God, no part of George is prepared for Lee plahing up to this so hard.He shouldn't be surprised, not really, but something in him is, all the same.
"You are, aren't you?" he says, walking behind Lee. Before he squeezes lube onto his fingers, he leans down and spts onto Lee's hole, watching it run down the cleft of his arse. "Keep your hands where they are." He rubs the tip of a slick finger over Lee's hole, teasing, before he starts to ease one finger into him. "Tell me where you want your first bite."
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George’s finger eases into him and Lee’s mouth opens against the slick surface of the table. His hot breath leaves a visible mark against it, and he presses his wrists hard into the small of his back.
“First?” Lee asks tentatively, perhaps hopefully. That implies more than one, and Lee squirms a little as he thinks. So many possibilities. “Fuck. My hip.”
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"First," echoes George, pressing his finger deep into Lee's arse, and then crouching so that he can get his mouth to his hip, kissing and sucking at the skin there before he nips it between his teeth. He knows that Lee wants him to bite him hard -- he doesn't think he can bring himself to break the skin, but he tries to give Lee what he wants, even though he's nominally the one in charge right now.
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“Thank you,” he breathes out raggedly, thighs trembling a little, “sir.”
That one wasn’t even to be a brat. It just felt right in the moment, with the gratitude he feels. He doesn’t even think George likes doing it, but he indulges Lee anyway. Lee has had to ask for it each time, and he doesn’t want to try and take too much. “I’m good. You— you don’t have to.”
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The way Lee reacts is beautiful, and George shivers with arousal, his cock aching hard inside his jeans. He leaves them done up for now, though, moving his hand to fuck Lee with one finger, starting to press another inside him. "You are good, and I want to give you what you want." He kisses the red mark on Lee's hip. "Where next?"
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For a long moment, he stubbornly refuses, hands shaking behind his back as he focuses on George’s fingers inside of him, tight with only spit to ease the way. It seems like they’re waiting each other out and Lee holds his breath, eyes squeezed shut.
“Thigh,” he finally says on an exhale. It’s not where he really wants, but he can’t bring himself to ask for that one just yet.
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"Good boy," murmurs George, still crouched behind Lee, working his fingers in and out of him, a steady rhythm as his mouth drifts over Lee's bare skin. He mouths his way down to Lee's thigh, kissing down the long muscle and then, on a whim, shifting between Lee's spread legs to close his teeth on the soft skin of Lee's inner thigh. The skin there has more give, some fat underneath, and George feels a little braver, bites a little harder. He finds himself craving the noise that he knows Lee will make.
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George’s mouth trails down his leg, fingers still pressed almost possessively into his body. He thought he knew what to expect— a bite only stings, and slightly hesitant at that.
But instead George bites harder than that, much harder, and Lee lets out a startled yell and jerks against the table so hard that it rattles, lifting his head only to let it fall back to the table with a thunk.
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That was the reaction he'd been hoping for, the noise and the way Lee's body moves, and the sound of his head falling back against the table. George grins against his skin, sucking at the mark his mouth has left behind. He straightens up, starting to work one more finger into Lee's arse. "You get one more," he says. "And then I'm going to fuck you."
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