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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Lee dips two fingers into him so easily that it's embarrassing and George whimpers, squirming his hips. He nods, cheek rubbing against the pillow.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I would like that."

“Mm, well. Too late now,” Lee tells him, lifting the leather strap again and slapping it lightly right over George’s wet hole. “Maybe next time you’ll do as you’re told, huh?”

He brings the leather strap down across his ass hard enough for it to leave a stark red line, then drops it to press three fingers into George, working them in and out and teasingly brushing his prostate each time. “But I know how much you like being a brat, so maybe not.”

George's eyes widen when the strap comes down across his hole, the sting sending a shock straight through him. Nobody's ever done anything like that to him before and he's surprised by how much it likes it.

"I blame my mother," he says, as Lee fingers his arse; after the toy, three fingers feels like barely a stretch. "I'm nothing but what she raised."

“You are no more your mother than I am my father,” Lee says fiercely, because he wants them both to be different, to be better. He wants it to be true, but that doesn’t mean it is.

“You’re not nothing,” Lee assures him, lining up his pinky and sliding four fingers into his body, watching with rapt fascination as George’s eager hole swallows them up. “You’re the only thing that’s ever been mine.”

Edited 2025-07-31 19:14 (UTC)

Four fingers does feel like a lot, and George moans, his eyes drifting closed, his hips squirming just a little. His fingers flex and relax.

"I'm yours," he says. He likes saying it.

“Say it again,” Lee says calmly, feeling his chest seize up at how much he likes hearing it. He has to remind himself that the collar is on, and everything said while the collar is on comes with a bit grain of salt, but he still likes it so much.

Lee presses his fingers together and fucks George with all four, slowly pressing them into the knuckle. He leans over to spit on his hole again, prodding curiously with the index finger of his other hand.

“How much could I stretch you open, I wonder?” Lee muses gently, nudging the tip of his index finger in alongside the other four.

"I'm yours," says George, his voice dreamy, breathy. "I'm yours. I'm..."

He loses his words in a moan when he feels Lee starts to press another finger into him. He's lost count. He thinks he can take it.

“Yeah, you are,” Lee says in a low voice, awed by the obscene stretch of George’s ass around his fingers.

“Have you never taken two cocks at once?” Lee asks, curious. He has five fingers pressed into George as deep as they can go, and he pulls them all free just to see how pink and open he is, all gaping and needy like something out of porn. He spits into his hole and replaces four fingers, shifting his hand so can rub the pad of his thumb against the tight ring of muscle. “Or a fist?”

"I..." It takes him a moment to even formulate words. There's a split second where he wants to answer in French. "Two cocks? Not unless you mean one in my mouth and one in my arse." He squirms his hips against the tease of Lee's thumb. "A fist? Once, a long time ago."

He can hear Jean, murmuring to him in the low light like he was a skittish horse. It feels forever ago.

Lee doesn’t know why he asked. He feels an intense rush of jealousy that he knows is exacerbated by the collar, and he knows it’s pointless and stupid. He knows, but it makes him sad anyway.

He just hums and doesn’t say anything, moving his thumb and going back to fucking him with four fingers, resting his other hand on George’s back.

"I didn't like it, at time," says George, feeling oddly relaxed, spread across Lee's lap, four fingers inside him and Lee's hand resting warm and comforting on his back. "In my memory, it hurt." He sighs, shifting his hips. "I think I'd like it better with you. Even if it hurt."

That makes it worse, somehow. Lee’s hand curls into a ball between George’s shoulders and he takes a deep breath, swallowing hard as he tries to calm himself down.

“I wouldn’t want it to hurt,” Lee says in a low voice, shaking his head as he starts to massage George’s prostate. There are ways he likes hurting George. That would not be one of them.

“You just have so many of my firsts,” he admits in a low voice, hating how jealous he sounds. He knows it’s stupid, but he takes solace in the fact that George is so out of it that he probably won’t even remember this conversation.

George frowns at the tone of Lee's voice, lifting his head slightly. The thrust of Lee's fingers inside him is distracting, but he tries to concentrate.

"I used sex as...a way to get myself things," he says. "As...currency. As power." He shifts. "First time or not, nothing's ever felt like it does with you." He means it, too. It never has.

This is supposed to be a time for George to relax and get out of his head, not soothing Lee’s stupidly bruised ego. But he does appreciate the shift in perspective, even as his cheeks flush in embarrassment for being so foolish.

Lee slips his fingers free, but it’s only so he can tug George up onto his knees, helping him straddle Lee’s waist with his hands still bound behind him.

He stares up at George, reaching up to put his hands on George’s face and draw him in for a deep, consuming kiss that seems to go on and on.

“That’s all that matters,” Lee assures him, giving George an apologetic look and then kissing him again, curling a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him closer. He fists his cock and positions it against George’s hole, pulling him down onto it while they’re still kissing.

“You make me feel crazy sometimes,” he admits quietly, panting against George’s neck as he starts to rock up into him. “I’ve never wanted anything like I want you.”

George sinks down onto Lee's cock with a moan that's almost a sob, he's so relieved. He doesn't start to move, not right away, just sits in Lee's lap, his cock deep inside him.

"You're..." He draws in a breath, rising up on his knees so he can slowly sink back down. "I think you might be the only thing I've ever chosen for myself."

That might be the best thing that anyone has ever said to him, and he grins brightly enough to rival the sun.

“Then who gives a fuck about the rest of it,” he says warmly, kissing George again and unwinding the chain from around his wrists because he wants George to touch him very badly. He wraps one arm around George’s waist and keeps the other on his face, kissing him over and over again while thrusting up into him.

“Please keep choosing me,” he pleads, smiling into the kiss. “Even when I’m a dumbass.”

George smiles at that, his hips still rising and falling slowly, fingers of both hands tousled in Lee's hair.

"I will. I do." He nods, smudging the tip of his nose against Lee's. He's almost forgotten the collar around his neck. It doesn't feel like it matters, right then.

Lee stares up at him, utterly besotted, and hooks his fingers in the back of his collar, hesitating for a moment.

“Can I take this off?” He asks finally, holding George tighter around his waist. “It’s not too much. Nothing’s wrong. I just—“

He pauses and takes a breath, holding George seated in his lap. “You’ve had it on so long and I just want you.”

Nodding, Lee's cock fully buried inside him, George traces the line of Lee's jaw with his thumb.

"Take it off," he says, smiling. "I'll still do anything you want."

“Of course you will,” Lee murmurs warmly, lifting the key from his chest to stick it into the lock on George’s collar, gently easing it away and setting it aside. “Unless it’s not flirting with waiters or following instructions.”

His eyes are sparkling with mischief and he laughs, pulling George in for a kiss before he can argue. His hips start to roll again and he holds onto George with both arms around him, kissing along his jaw and nuzzling underneath, kissing skin left pink from the collar.

Collar off, George rolls his eyes at that, rising and falling smoothly in Lee's lap as they fuck. He cradles Lee's jaw in one hand, pulling him in for a kiss.

"Maybe not," he says, but you can make me hump your boot any time you like."

“My little freak,” Lee says warmly, nuzzling into George’s hand and kissing him again. He feels lighter now with the collar off, like a switch has been flipped. He loves it, he really does, but it’s always such a relief when he gets George back, with all his eye rolls and sass.

“You did look very hot like that,” Lee admits, tucking a hand under George’s ass as he rolls them so that George is on his back on the sofa with Lee on top of him, one foot braced against the floor as he holds onto George’s thigh, fucking him a bit harder.

“I like it when you get all pathetically needy,” Lee says as he leans in and presses a kiss to George’s jaw, murmuring low in his ear. “I feel like that about you all the time.”

George grunts when he ends up on his back, immediately bringing his knees up, one leg curling around Lee's hips.

"I could say the same about you," he says. He's had Lee squirming for him a few times, blushing and on the verge of tears and it's gorgeous. He leans up, lacing kisses down Lee's throat.

Lee chuckles and searches out George’s mouth again, kissing him deeply and groaning against his chin. He’s been working up to this all night, waiting to finally be inside of him, and it feels so good that it makes him a little dizzy.

“You always feel so fucking good,” he pants out, snapping his hips and kissing along George’s neck. He bends until his mouth can find the cut he made on George’s chest, by now healed into a thin pink line that will gone soon. He licks at it, biting gently as he grabs George’s thigh and holds him close.

Lee kisses and kicks at his chest and George knows what he's thinking, what he's remembering. He cradles the back of Lee's head, fingers pushed into his hair, rocking his hips to meet the thrust of Lee's cock.

"You can bite," he says, knowing it's easier for Lee with permission. More and more, it's something he craves too -- the pain, a little, but more the effect it has on Lee.