atehimrightup | for george

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george

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."

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Lee holds him through it, forearm tight across his chest as he shivers and jerks, murmuring praise and filth into his ear. He catches as much come as he can, feeling it stripe his fingers and palm, all the way down to the inside of his wrist.

He rests the back at that hand against his hip, giving George a few moments to catch his breath while pressing kisses the side of his head.

“Mm, you were so good for me,” he murmurs, nipping at his earlobe.

George doesn't have words, right then, but he does make a soft, contended sound, nuzzling back into Lee. His chest is still heaving. His head feels light.

Christ, but he loves this.

Lee can’t help but to smile as George all but snuggles back against him, both of them catching their breath together.

Eventually he brings his sticky hand up to George’s mouth, amusement in his tone and to touches two fingertips to his bottom lip. “You made a promise.”

"I did," he says, smiling, his voice feeling raw and used. He lifts his head so that he can lick at the come on Lee's palm. He supposes he ought to be glad that Lee isn't make him fulfill everything he thinks he said, in the heat of the moment.

Lee watches as George laps at his land, then leans in and licks right along with him, wanting a taste for himself. Their tongues brush together and Lee laughs, grabbing George’s chin to turn his head enough for them to kiss.

It’s a deep kiss with lots of tongue, but it’s still full of warmth and fondness; a counterpoint to what they just did.

Even with his hands tied behind his back, still collared, that kiss lets him know that the game is done for the night. When it breaks, he smudges the tip of his nose against Lee's.

"Thank you."

“It was my sincere pleasure,” Lee says with a smirk, even as it feels like something cracks inside his chest when George touches their noses together.

Lee kisses him again and then gently pulls out of him, sitting up so he can remove the cuffs from George’s wrists and toss them aside. He rolls George onto his back and takes one wrist and then the other, kissing the insides of them and rubbing away the marks where the leather dug into his skin. He leaves the collar for now, deciding to let George tell him when he wants it off. Just in case he wants to linger in it.

"You enjoyed it, too?" says George, luxuriating in the little, comforting touches, even if he is still sprawled on the floor. He remembers how quickly he'd absented himself to shower, last time. He isn't about to make that mistake again.

He traces the leather collar with his fingers.

"This off too," he says. "Please."

“If you’re naked, I’m enjoying myself,” Lee quips, but then he nods a bit more seriously. “I did, very much.”

Rather than take the key off from around his neck, Lee leans down to unlock the collar, hair spilling over to brush George’s chin as he does. It feels just as intimate, somehow, as everything else they just did.

He peels the collar away and stays bent over, pressing a line of kisses to the red mark left behind. As he sits up, he remembers how quickly George got up and left the room last time and puts a palm on his chest as if to stop him, only to slowly remove it and rest it in his lap instead, feeling a little sheepish. George can do whatever he needs to do.

“Can I get you anything right now?” He asks softly, tilting his head in a puppyish sort of way.

"Water?" says George, hopefully. "Or one of those foul blue things you're fond of." He doesn't love the taste but they do definitely help. "And a blanket?" He stifles a yawn against his upper arm. "I feel weirdly exposed."

Lee rolls his eyes as he gets to his feet, but he does vow to find some sort of electrolyte drink that George will like. There’s a million options here, just like there is with everything else.

“Yes, my lord,” Lee says teasingly, sweeping everything off of the sofa before leaning down to slide his arms under George’s shoulders and knees, lifting him up off of the ground. He wouldn’t be able to make it far like this, but he’s able to deposit George on the sofa rather easily, and grabs a throw blanket from the back to flick out and lay over him.

He stops to pull on George’s discarded sweats and stretches as he heads into the kitchen, grabbing a sports drink and a bottle of water from the fridge, and a protein bar from the cabinet.

“Here you go,” he says as he returns, lifting George’s feet so he can slide beneath them and hand everything over. “I brought both so you could have options, you priss.”

Being lifted like that is startling but not unwelcome; not for the first time, George is struck by how strong Lee is, and how unlikely that seems. Still, he doesn't dwell on it. He cracks open the blue bottle first, stinking half of it in a number of long pulls before he offers it to Lee.

Sore as he is, he thinks this is still close to the most relaxed he's ever been in his life.

Lee can’t help but to be relieved that George doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to be alone right now. It’s nice to sit with him like this, when they’re both still a little dazed, and warm all over from the afterglow.

He takes the sports drink and chugs the rest of it, then opens the protein bar and breaks it in half, leaving one side in the wrapper for George and quickly eating the other.

“Do we need a debrief?” Lee asks, remembering how easily they had talked after last time. While waiting for an answer, he takes one of George’s feet into his hands and lifts it to press a kiss to the top of it before staring to massage the ball of it with his thumbs. He sort of just wants to be touching George all the time.

George eats his half of the protein bar and opens the water, washing it down with a long swallow as he considers. It's difficult to concentrate when whatever Lee is doing to his foot feels heavenly.

"It all felt good to me," he admits. "I'm sore, but," he grins. "Jesus Christ, I enjoyed it."

It’s not until he releases it that Lee realizes that he’d been holding his breath. He’s relieved that he didn’t take it too far, didn’t hurt George too much. He had been worried about that last bite, but he trusts that George would have told him if he had an issue with it.

“Good. Me too,” Lee says with a grin, slumped back against the sofa as he continues to massage George’s foot. “I’ll do the lotion after you have your shower.”

"I find myself in no particular rush," he says, still luxuriating in the way that Lee is touching him. He reaches back to touch the bite mark on his shoulder. "Did you break the skin?"

It feels tender enough.

Oops. Maybe he’s not out of the woods yet.

The question makes him go still, cheeks flushing with shame. He swallows hard when gives George a jerky nod.

“I— just a little. I didn’t mean to,” he says in an unsure voice. “I’m sorry.”

George frowns at Lee's reaction. He isn't angry, not at all. There's a part of him that likes it, that feels claimed by it.

"I don't mind it," he says, gently. "In the moment, it felt pretty fucking good."

George can’t understand why Lee gets so worked up about this. He doesn’t know what Lee has to hold himself back from every single day. He feels a fresh wave of guilt, but George’s quiet, sure voice thankfully distracts him.

“Oh. Really?” Lee looks over at him and laughs a little, feeling relief wash over him. He studies George’s face with something a little like awe in his expression. How did he end up in this weird place, in this weird time, with George? It feels like nothing short of miracle.

“Well,” he begins with an amused huff, one corner of his mouth quirking as he picks up George’s other foot to start giving it the same attention. “It felt pretty fucking good for me, too.”

His thumbs dig into the arch of George’s foot and he looks over again. “You’ll have a bruise to match the one on my neck. Which I’m very happy with, for the record.”

"How romantic," says George, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, shifting contentedly as Lee starts to rub his other foot. He takes another sip of water, settling back against the couch cushions.

"Did it bleed?" There's no judgement in his voice, just honest curiosity.

“Very,” Lee says with a chuckle. The question makes a small shiver jolt through him and he shakes his head a little.

“Not really. It wasn’t deep enough,” Lee assures him, and he feels a little sick that part of him is disappointed. It takes a hell of a bite to make someone really bleed, and he’s not going to do that to George.

“I’ll put antiseptic on it so you don’t get rabies,” Lee jokes, and then he laughs again. “Do you even know what rabies is?”

"I've heard of it," he says. "Something to do with dogs." He's quiet for another long moment, thinking something through. "But you'd have liked it. If it had?"

“It makes animals go rabid,” Lee explains, working his hands up the back of George’s calf, rubbing his thumbs into the muscle. The question makes him pause for a moment, feeling caught like a deer in headlights, but he makes himself remember the conversation they had at the shop.

“That’s a complicated question,” Lee begins, somewhat hesitant as he goes back to massaging George’s calf, glad to have something to do with his hands. “I don’t want to bite you hard enough to make you really bleed, because that would hurt in a way that goes beyond what we’re doing here. I don’t want to hurt you in that way.”

He goes quiet for a moment, cheeks warm as he looks resolutely at a spot on the blanket. “But I would have liked the blood that would have came of it, yes.”

"I've been bitten hard enough to draw blood before, and I agree," he says, not pulling away from Lee's touch. "I don't want you to hurt me like that, either." He thinks about it for a long moment, reaching out to trail his fingers against Lee's bare arm. "I...wouldn't be adverse, though. To bleeding."

“What?” Lee’s voice is low and dangerous, jaw tensing as he looks over at George. He knows how hard one has to bitten to bleed like that. The evidence of it is etched into his skin.

The thought of someone doing that to George enrages him. But there’s another, much more darker thought: he’s jealous that it wasn’t him.

Before he can get too worked up, George says something that stuns him into silence. Lee glances down at George’s hand on his arm and then back at his face, brow furrowed slightly even as his eyes go dark. “What do you mean?”

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