atehimrightup | (no subject)

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george

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Lee is very unused to getting cars to go places. He's always just driven himself if he could, or walked if he couldn't. Hitchhiked, sometimes.

But now he's in a place where he can summon a stranger to drive him somewhere by tapping the tiny computer in his hand. The technological advancement in this place stuns him every single day. He can't even imagine how George deals with it.

He looks over at George next to him in the backseat of their current ride, watching him as he watches a touristy horse drawn carriage go by them with a big dopey grin on his face and, well, George is probably doing just fine.

He keeps staring, letting his gaze drop to the thin silver chain around George's neck. His going out collar, they've called it. Tonight is its first night in play, and Lee is eager to see how it goes.

When they arrive at the restaurant, Lee thanks the driver and slides out of the car, holding the door open and reaching out to take George's hand. "Come along, darling."

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“Not all of it,” Lee assures him casually, lifting a brow as he reaches back to take his wallet out of his pocket. “But won’t you do as you’re told?”

He smirks and takes his card out, setting it down on the table. “Or are you going to be a brat about it?”

"I'll be good," says George, because he might have his brattish moments but, mostly, he wants to please Lee. Sometimes desperately. "I'll do anything you want."

George’s earnest declaration makes Lee’s blood heat up, eyes flashing as a muscle in his jaw twitches. The rush of power is thrilling, and Lee very much wants to go home.

Their waiter comes back with the check and Lee hands over the card without looking at him, too busy staring hungrily at George. Once he leaves, Lee gets to his feet.

“I’m going to go use the restroom.” He leans down to put his lips near George’s ear. “Maybe I’ll still be able to smell you.”

He playfully snaps his teeth and then chuckles to himself as he turns to walk away.

Still sitting at the table, take out containers in front of him, George is too turned on to really pay attention to everything that's happening. He barely registers when the waiter from earlier slides into the seat that Lee's just vacated, still talking about modelling and how George has got a great face and, before he really knows what's happening, the man plucks his phone out of his hand and starts to enter his number.

"That way you've got it if, you know, you need it," he says, shooting George a look he's seen many times before. And, honestly, how much can it hurt? He'd promised Lee he wouldn't let anyone fuck him, but there are a lot of other things two men can do.

When Lee comes back from the bathroom to find that waiter sitting in his fucking chair with George’s phone in his hand, he feels wildly upset. They both reek of lust while looking at each other and Lee feels a moment of intense insecurity.

George is supposed to be his right now, only his, and he wonders if maybe the idea of him wearing a collar in public isn’t such good one.

“Maybe I should leave you two alone,” Lee says once he gets back to the table, standing there awkwardly because he has nowhere to fucking sit. He glares at the boy, who gives him a cocky sort of smirk in return, and Lee bares his teeth as he feels a surge of impotent rage.

“The service left a lot to be desired,” he says as he picks up the billfold and draws a line through the tip box, signing angrily before taking his card back. He only looks at George to glare at him, swallows hard and turns to leave. “Enjoy yourselves.”

"Lee!" says George, all but scrambling to his feet, snatching his phone out of the boy's hand and grabbing the bag with the desserts. "I didn't...Jesus Christ, Lee will you wait?"

It's undignified and George is surprised, honestly, by how panicked he feels.

Lee doesn’t stop moving until he’s outside in the breeze, breathing in deeply as he stomps a few yards away from the door. Maybe he’s too hungry for this right now. Maybe he can’t handle it.

He turns to see George approaching him, worry in his big brown eyes, and Lee clenches his jaw.

“What does this mean?” He grits out once George is close enough, reaching out to take the small lock between his thumb and forefinger and give it a sharp tug.

Edited 2025-07-30 18:18 (UTC)

There's something deeply humiliating about the way Lee takes hold of the lock and almost shakes him by it. For once, George finds himself almost lost for words.

"I didn't...I know what it means..." He says, his dark eyes fixed on Lee's face, not trying to pull away. "It means I'm yours."

“Really? Because I was gone for a second and you let him take my seat,” Lee replies, letting go of the lock and taking a step back.

He feels crazy and he knows, he knows, that he’s overreacting a little. It would be different if George weren’t collared but he is, and when he is Lee feels so possessive that he could explode.

“Why did he have your phone?”

"He took it out of my hand about thirty seconds before you came back," says George, and he can't quite believe how upset Lee is about something that wasn't anything in the first place. "I didn't give it to him, if that's what you think. I..."

“Did you think about fucking him?” Lee asks pointedly, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks George in the eye.

“Do not lie to me,” he says. “Did you, with that collar on, think about fucking him?”

"I..." For a moment, George is silent, warring with himself. "Fine. Yes. But not seriously, and only for a moment and..." He huffs a frustrated breath. "I didn't do anything."

Lee’s eyes go pained and sad for a moment before his expression hardens again. He feels a little stupid, and he swallows a sudden lump in his throat while reaching for his wallet to busy his hands.

“Then I guess you aren’t all mine, are you?” He asks as he puts his card back, then reaches for his phone so he can request a car, all while averting George’s gaze.

There were always others. He can still hear George saying it in his head, and he takes a resigned breath. For a moment, he considers telling George to take the collar off, but he doesn’t.

“Car will be here soon,” he says instead, turning to walk toward the corner.

He trails after Lee like some absurd puppy, and he can feel his face burning.

"This is...it's ridiculous," he protests. "I didn't encourage him. I gave him nothing. I didn't do anything. Lee. Please."

“You didn’t do anything. You didn’t take your phone back,” Lee tells him. “You didn’t tell him to leave you alone.”

He realizes that he’s going a little over the top, but his expression hardens further when George says it’s ridiculous. It’s so dismissive.

“You didn’t refrain from thinking about sticking your cock in him even as he disrespected me,” he continues, finally looking over at George. “So yeah, you didn’t do anything.”

A little of the wind goes out of George when Lee puts it like that because, well, he does have a point. He huffs a breath through his nose. "You're right," he says. "I could have done any of those things, and I didn't. I... Didn't think."

Lee is bracing himself for more arguing, but it doesn’t come and he’s so relieved. He feels a little foolish about the whole thing, but he seems to think differently when George has that collar on.

The animal in him is a little closer to the surface, and that’s not always a good thing.

Lee sighs and turns to face George, reaching out to put a hand on his chest, patting a few times before putting his other hand on George’s jaw.

“You didn’t,” Lee says, but his voice is softer now, almost apologetic. He reacted to strongly, and he knows it, so he leans in to kiss George softly on the mouth, lingering as he feels himself recalibrate.

“So what am I going to do with you?” He asks against his mouth, pulling back to give him a playful smile, thumb stroking along his cheek as he nudges their noses together.

He's forgiven, and he feels relief flood through him. He smiles, shifting so that he can take another kiss.

"Well. We do have dessert to eat," he days, and glances down at Lee's boots, flushing.

They’re both forgiven, and Lee laughs softly as George looks down at his boots.

“You filthy little slut,” Lee says fondly, kissing him again as their car pulls up to the curb. He moves his hand to touch the lock around George’s neck, much gentler this time as he kisses the corner of George’s mouth. “Remind me again what this means.”

He knows, of course. But he really wants to hear it.

"I'm all yours," he says, and, God, he means it. "And I'll do whatever you tell me."

He means that, too. He sways in to kiss Lee's mouth again before they get into the car.

“Good boy,” Lee says into the kiss, laughing a little as he playfully swats at George’s ass. He watches as George climbs into the car and takes a deep breath, shaking his head a little.

He got worked up, but it’s okay. They’re fine, and their evening can continue.

Lee climbs into the car and lifts his arm, stretching it out along the backseat to urge George in against his side as the driver confirms the address.

They pull away from the curb and Lee holds George by the shoulders, crossing one leg over his knee so that his boot bobs in George’s eye line as they drive, smirking as he turns his head to press an affectionate kiss to George’s temple.

George finds himself staring at the polished leather of Lee's boot. He'd never done anything like it before that night in the club, and he'd been surprised by how much he liked it. How much the degredation of it turned him on.

He means in against Lee, breathing in the scent of him. He reaches out, tracing one finger along the sole of Lee's boot.

“You’re such a freak,” Lee says with a soft chuckle, but it’s warm and affectionate and he gently pulls George’s hair as he tips his head back, humming softly as George’s nose skims up his throat.

Thankfully, they’re not too far from home. Lee lets George keep touching his boot, and after glancing up at the driver to make sure their eyes are on the road, he shifts his hand until he can press two fingers into George’s mouth right there in the back of the car, rubbing at the back of his tongue.

He loves when Lee touches him like this, whether he's wearing a collar or not -- that kind of easy, proprietary touch. Lee pushes two fingers into his mouth and rubs them over his tongue, close enough to the back of his mouth that he almost triggers his gag reflex. George breathes through his nose, glancing at the rearview mirror before he starts to suck.

Lee hums approvingly as George sucks on his fingers, lifting his other hand to drag it through George’s hair.

Once the car turns into their street, Lee pulls his fingers free and turns George’s head to give him a deep, claiming kiss, licking into his mouth while holding the back of his neck.

He only pulls away once the car is stopped and the driver clears their throat, smirking at the dazed look on George’s face.

“Apologies. I look at him and get carried away,” Lee says to the driver, chuckling as he gets out of the car and tugs George with him.