atehimrightup | for george

Entry tags:

alex,
george

for george

When Lee first learns of the club, a plan starts to formulate. He thinks about how George sprung that little shopping trip on him, and decides that it's time for a little payback.

He does some research and makes an appointment, then texts George to tell him that they're going out for dinner, that he'll be picked up at 8pm, and that Lee would like it very much if he wore the plug.

The thought of going to a sex club is sort of nerve wracking and intriguing all at the same time. He doesn't know if he particularly wants to partake in anything, but he's curious. He wants to check it out, and he thinks that George will, too. Hell, with all that George has gotten up to, it might seem like child's play to him.

But to Lee, it's entirely new. For him, sex has always been this clandestine, hidden thing. It was animal behavior, biology to be taken care of and little else. But he's learning so much about all the other ways it can be, and this seems like a good way to further his education.

He's even snuck the collar away to keep in his pocket. He doesn't want to tell George to wear that, too. It's never been worn out of the safety of George's apartment before, and he wants that choice to be George's, so Lee will let him make it once he has all the information.

He decides to get a cab for the trip, not wanting to drive his beat up old truck when he may possibly be impaired. He's dressed in all black-- jeans and a silky button down and his boots, with his face shaved and his dark red curls actually combed and styled. He looks-- good. It's not often that he looks into the mirror and thinks that, but it's happening more often lately. That's George's influence, he's sure.

Once the car pulls up to George's building, Lee shoots him a text. Come downstairs.

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George's face is already hot when he steps out into the night air. He'd inserted the plug into himself bent over the foot of his bed, opened himself up with his fingers first. It's the first time he's done it to himself, rather than Lee doing it to him, and it had felt degrading and arousing in pretty much equal measure. He was achingly aware of the plug as he'd dressed in clothes ordered from Rapunzel -- trousers tight enough to remind him of riding breeches, a soft, draped shirt of black fabric so fine it's almost transparent, cutting a deep v against his chest, a jacket of blue velvet that almost reminds him of one that he'd had at home, though the cut is more modern.

He opens the door of the car and slides into the waiting seat, his breath hitching slightly as he sits on the plug.

When George exits the building, Lee has to take a moment to compose himself and not just give up on the idea entirely and drag him right back into the apartment.

He smiles as George enters the car and it turns into a bit of a smirk when he shifts his weight. The club doesn’t allow phones, so Lee made sure to sneak out the remote at the same time as the collar. For now, they both sit untouched in his pocket.

“Hello, darling. You like nice,” Lee says in a nonchalant voice, leaning back against the seat as the driver pulls away from the curb. “What’s the matter? Pants a little too tight?”

George shoots him a look, his lips pursing slightly because Lee knows exactly what the issue is. He does like being called darling, though.

"They are relatively snug. That girl's a marvel," he says. "And, honestly, I was hoping for more than nice."

“I cannot afford a tip big enough to compensate our lovely driver for how I actually want to react,” Lee says primly, deeply amused by the look on George’s face. “So nice will have to do for now.”

Their driver, a friendly young woman, thankfully laughs at the joke. She keeps looking in the rearview at them both. “Pity,” she jokes back, and Lee laughs.

He does scoot closer to George, reaching out to grab his chin in a way that’s tender and firm all at once, pulling him in for a kiss. “Very nice. Is that better, you little brat?”

"It'll do," murmurs George, making no effort to pull away from Lee's grip on his chin. He finds himself longing the privacy of a carriage -- driver and footmen out of the way, and the swaying privacy of the dark interior. Still, he can behave himself. "Where are we going for dinner, anyway? You didn't say."

“Oh, did I not?” Lee replies airily, thumbing at George’s chin and making no move to answer the question. Where they’re going doesn’t have food. Perhaps he should have told George to eat something before, but maybe he wants them both hungry.

He kisses George again and then pushes him away, huffing playfully as he slides as far away from him on the seat as he can, crossing his arms. “You’ve said nothing about how I look. I tried very hard for you.”

He’s teasing, mostly. He doesn’t actually mean it but he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t some small crumb of insecurity there. He’s going into an unfamiliar situation, and George is so terribly beautiful and so experienced in ways that Lee isn’t. He can’t help but to be a little worried that he won’t measure up.

He'd been so distracted by the shift of the plug in his arse, by Lee's smug little tease, that he'd barely even looked. He does now, though, and he realises that he's never seen Lee look quite like this before, so sleek and gorgeous. George always thinks he's beautiful, but this? This is something else.

"Sweetheart," he says, turning his head to give Lee his full attention. "You're gorgeous. But I think you know that, and you're fishing to hear me say it." He reaches out, skimming his fingers against Lee's knee.

“No, you waited too long,” Lee teases, smacking the back of George’s hand when he reaches for him. But he’s blushing all the same because yeah, maybe he was fishing, just a little. He’s gone outside his comfort level for this, and it’s nice to know that he doesn’t look ridiculous.

Their driver pulls up to a nondescript brick building and Lee thanks her before sliding out of the car, ending the ride and giving her a tip before waiting for George to join him. It doesn’t look like a restaurant. There are no windows, but there is a doorman out front and Lee walks up to him to give the man his name.

“We have a reservation,” he tells the man, turning his head to give George an innocent smile.

George trusts Lee completely, without a doubt, but he also knows him well enough by now to know when he's up to something. And he's definitely up to something. George can tell, from the studied impression of innocence on his face, and the way the doorman looks at George before he opens the door for them, showing them into a dimly lit anteroom, with velvet couches. George turns to lee, eyebrows raised.

"Do I want to know?" he asks.

“I thought you liked surprises,” Lee says pointedly, smirking to himself and then looking ahead as a door opens and a tall woman in a skintight black dress comes in to greet them.

She welcomes them to the club, and by the time she starts going over rules and guidelines, it’s become rather clear what this place is. Lee is nervous but tries very hard not to show it. He’s also incredibly curious and he knows that whatever happens, he’ll be leaving here with George.

“I can take your jackets before escorting you in, if you’d like,” the woman says politely, and Lee asks for her to give them just a moment. She nods and steps away, and Lee turns to take George by the elbow.

“Surprise,” he says happily, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

Listening to her talk, it dawns on George exactly what's happening under this roof, and his eyes widen, slightly. From context, he figures out that is not a brothel, that everyone here is a guest, rather than a client. There are rules about consent, protection, language, what's acceptable and what isn't. George takes it all in.

A slow grin spreads across George's face, even as his face is flushing in the dim light.

"You're full of surprises, you little deviant," he teases, catching Lee's mouth in a squarer kiss.

Lee grins, unsurprised but still relieved by the reaction. He kisses George back and then shifts their positions a bit, putting their back to the woman who is politely looking elsewhere.

“One more thing,” Lee says as he takes the curled up collar out of the pocket of his leather jacket, holding it out in his palm. “I brought this so you could decide if you wanted to wear it once we were here.

“It’s totally up to you,” Lee tells him sincerely, because he would understand if George decided he wasn’t comfortable with it on this first outing. “But I would like it if you were mine in there.”

Mine. That word sinks through George like a stone through water, and he's on the verge of telling Lee that it feels like he's always his, these days, but that's something he doesn't quite have the words for, yet, so he doesn't say it. Instead, he hesitates for a long moment and then nods.

"I'd like that too," he says. "To be yours, in there." He swallows. "To do with as you will."

He knows how to stop it, if he wants to. If it comes to that.

George is quiet for long enough that Lee almost puts the collar away, but then he agrees and Lee lets out the breath he was holding. He nods and turns to loop the collar around George’s neck, locking it into place. Him wearing it while still dressed is a little unfamiliar, but it doesn’t stop the jolt that Lee feels all the way down to his cock to see it there.

“Good. What do you say if you want it off?” Lee asks, just like he always does. They both know the answer, but Lee wants it to be perfectly clear even here. George may be handling himself over, but he still gets final say in what happens to him.

While waiting for him to answer, Lee steps back and takes his jacket off, gesturing for George to do the same while the woman comes back up to take them.

"Unlock."

George shrugs out of the blue velvet and hands it to the woman with a nod of thanks.

"I trust you," he says. "Do what you want with me. I'll stop it if I need to. I promise."

Lee shivers at the declaration, feeling warm and powerful and guilty all at once.

“I know you will, baby,” Lee assures him, reaching out to cup his cheek and pull him in for a kiss, murmuring against his mouth in a tone so low only they can hear it. “I know you’ll be a perfect little whore for me.”

He kisses George again and then pulls back with a smile, letting his gaze sweep over George’s body, eyes catching on the tantalizing shine of the jewelry in his nipples through the sheer shirt. Lee is about to be the envy of everyone in this place.

“Okay, we’re ready,” Lee says as he turns to the woman and straightens up, all traces of boyishness falling away until his expression is blank and calm, closely guarded as he reaches out to put a proprietary hand on the small of George’s back.

The shift in Lee's expression, the way he carries himself, sends a shiver straight through George. He's seen it before, but only in his own living room. Seeing it in public is different. His skin feels like it's on fire as they follow the woman through into the main space of the club. Something about it reminds George of that first night in France -- the suggestion of bodies in all manner of positions in the half light.

He's come a long way since then, though.

The woman opens the door and leads them inside, and Lee tries his best not to react. It’s a complete assault to his senses. He could smell the arousal from outside, but it usually doesn’t affect him too greatly unless it’s aimed at him.

This place, though. It’s so thick that it’s practically dripping from the walls, and Lee feels a little lightheaded. He takes a deep breath through his mouth and looks around curiously, trying his best not to appear like he’s brand new to this.

Some people are standing around with cocktail glasses. Others are fucking against the walls or on sofas. A woman in the corner is lounging in a chair with her feet propped up on the back of a naked man on all fours, surveying the room like a queen.

People turn to look at them as they walk through the room, enticed by the fresh meat. Most of them stare at George but Lee gets plenty of lingering gazes, too.

He isn’t sure where to go from here, but then a man is sauntering up to them and he dares to reach out and put his hand on George’s shoulder.

“I’d take that back if you want to keep it,” Lee says in a low voice, glaring at the man until he withdraws his hand. “Now go away.”

George loves that tone of voice, loves the look on Lee's face. He might not be on a lead, but he stays close, entirely Lee's creature. There's a tiny bit of him that wants to push his luck and see where it gets him.

"They're going to throw us out if you start breaking fingers, darling," he murmurs.

“I won’t have to as long as they listen,” Lee replies, reaching out to curl his fingers in the waistband of George’s tight pants to drag him deeper into the room. There’s a bar off to one side, and Lee goes over to order them both something strong, wanting a little social lubrication.

After they finish their drinks, Lee turns to find a few people staring at them. He drags George over to the wall and leans back against it, drawing George in until his back is against Lee’s chest. He keeps one hand on George’s waist and leans in to nose behind his ear, biting gently at it.

“Look how everyone is looking at you. You love it, don’t you?” Lee asks with a smile, sliding his other hand into the pocket of his pants to switch the plug onto its lowest setting, grinning wide when we feels George jolt. “Let them look at you.”

"I do love it." He's always loved it. Since it first started to happen at court, he's craved it. He knows what he looks like well enough, but he does like to see it reflected back at him from time to time.

When the plug buzzes to life in his arse, his hips jolt.

"Oh, fuck."

Lee lets out a low chuckle and spreads his hand out low on George’s belly, mouthing at the back of his neck.

“Are you gonna let them all see you get hard?” Lee asks, thumbing the power up a little higher on the toy and then putting both hands on George’s hips, content for now to just let him stand there and endure it while everyone watches.

Another man approaches them, half naked and handsome, and he looks practically ready to drop to his knees in front of George.

“Are you looking to play?” He asks, reaching out to touch George’s chest, and Lee gets a very big thrill out of reaching up to knock his hand away before it can make contact.

“I don’t share my toys,” Lee says sternly, biting gently at the back of George’s shoulder through his thin shirt. “He’s only for looking at.”

The guy practically pouts and Lee feels very, very smug.

Already, moments in, George is starting to find this overwhelming in the best possible way. His cock is well on its way to being hard and the man in front of him is beautiful, but not as beautiful as the one behind him, murmuring filth into his ear.

"Yes," he says, leaning back a little more, canting his hips out just so. "I'll do whatever I'm told."

And they both know it.

“See?” Lee hooks his chin over George’s shoulder and grins at the man, curling his arm more securely around George’s waist, dragging his ass back into the cradle of Lee’s hips. He can almost feel the buzzing of the toy, and his smile widens. “You can go.”

The man huffs and turns to leave, and Lee turns the toy up another notch and slides his hand under George’s shirt to rest on his stomach, sliding slowly back and forth. Meanwhile, he surveys the room as best he can in the low light.

There are numerous eyes turned their way, many of them trained on George as he seems to rock his hips almost mindlessly. They all think he’s so pretty, and that makes Lee feel endlessly smug. But it’s not because he thinks of George as some shiny jewel he owns.

They’re all looking at the wrapping, but Lee gets the whole package. Lee gets to know George, and that’s better than anything all these people could ever hope for.

“Does it feel good?” Lee asks in a low voice, kissing the side of George’s neck and holding his hips back while Lee rocks forward, grinding the toy deeper inside of him. “Knowing everyone in here wants you?”

He loves it in private, and, he finds he loves it even more now they they're being watched -- the casual, proprietary way that Lee touches him. He swallows, barely keeping back a whimper, as Lee grinds against him, as the toy shifts in his arse. He swallows, tipping his head back, forcing himself to keep his eyes open. For all the things he's done, and they are many and varied and wicked, he's never found himself the centre of attention like this.

And it does. Feel good.

He nods.

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