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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The pain mingles with the pleasure and George cries our -- a long, ragged sound -- his hips snapping to meet the way that Lee's fucking him. His fingers tighten in Lee's hair, pulling his head up so that George can crush an almost desperate kiss against his mouth. He's so close. He wants to come so much.

Lee feels almost dazed when George pulls at his hair and he blinks, whimpering into the kiss. He’s so close and he realizes, almost belatedly, that George is probably waiting for him.

“Come with me,” Lee pants out, letting go of George’s thigh to reach between them and grab his cock, stroking firmly. He only lasts a few more erratic thrusts before he comes with a loud cry against George’s mouth, snapping his hips forward and burying himself as deeply into George’s body as he can get.

They've never quite managed to get the timing right before but, this time, when Lee comes, George tips over the edge, too, so his come is slick between their bodies as he can feel Lee's cock twitching inside it.

It's perfect, and all George can do is cling on.

They tumble right after each other, and Lee moans as George’s body clenches around his still pulsing cock. It’s perfect, dragging out his orgasm until he feels almost dizzy.

He goes limp on top of George, sliding his arm up until it’s pillowing George’s neck. His other hand goes to George’s thigh, holding onto him while panting against his jaw. “Fuck. You’re amazing.”

George wraps both arms around Lee, holding him close. There's something in the tip of his tongue that he almost lets slip, but he swallows it back at the last moment.

"That was very fucking good," he says, turning his head to kiss whatever bit of Lee he can reach.

He’s not sure that he’ll ever get used to George’s accent. It’s so sexy, but also so charming all at the same time. It makes him shiver now, all warm and oversensitive from his orgasm.

George keeps kissing him, nudging up under his jaw to get to his neck, and Lee lets out a sound suspiciously close to a giggle when he finds a ticklish spot.

“Very fucking good,” he echoes with a nod, catching George’s chin in his hand so they can kiss yet again.

"Your impression of me is getting better," says George, grinning, chasing after another kiss. "We'll have to sounding civilised any day now."

He skims his hand down Lee's bare spine to the swell of his ass, squeezing warmly.

“You should just be thankful I trained myself out of my hick accent years ago,” Lee says with a laugh, though he’s sure his southern drawl comes out when he’s sleepy or drunk. Or even in times like now, when he’s deeply relaxed.

So basically, Lee is the only one who ever gets to hear it.

“You think I sound uncivilized now,” he jokes, twisting at the hips a little so he can linger inside of George while propping his chin up on his hand, staring at George and thumbing at his cheek.

"I think I've always sounded like this," says George, brow furrowing slightly as he thinks about it. "Maybe court changed the way I sound a little. And not speaking English for two years probably didn't help." He reaches up, tracing the line of Lee's jaw.

“I had a definite twang,” Lee admits, and then wonders if George has ever even heard a southern accent. Maybe they’ll have to watch some movies.

Lee smiles as George touches his face, reaching up to grip his wrist and press kisses to his palm.

“Will you say something in French?” Lee asks, blushing very faintly. “I won’t know what you’re sayin’ but I bet it’ll be real pretty.”

George thinks about it for a long moment, his fingers trailing against Lee's skin. His French had been painfully lacking when he first arrived in France but, by the time he'd left, it had been fluent. He smiles.

"I think I might have fallen in love with you, he murmurs, eyes on Lee's face. "And I thought I'd been in love before, but now I'm not so sure."

Lee stares at George while he speaks, blinking slowly and trailing his fingertips along George’s neck and chest. It’s beautiful, whatever he’s saying, and Lee feels his breath catch in his throat.

“Wow,” he breathes out, blinking slowly as if the words put him in a daze. He’s curious as to what George said, as he looked so serious when he said it, but Lee doesn’t feel the need to ask for a translation. It made him feel good, whatever it was.

“I was right,” he says in a low voice, smiling boyishly and leaning in for a kiss. “Thank you.”

He drops his head to press a soft, reverent kiss to the bite mark on George’s chest. “And for this, too.”

"You always act like that's something I'm steeling myself for," he says, leaning up to kiss Lee's chin. "It isn't, I promise you. Maybe at first, but now..." He shrugs. "It's good because it's you."

Lee closes his eyes, brow furrowing slightly as he feels so guilty that his stomach turns. George is being so good to him, so selfless, but Lee is keeping something so monumental from him. It’s something that would end this. George would run from him and it would be the right thing to do.

But Lee is keeping him here, because George is the best thing that’s ever happened to him and Lee is too selfish to let him go.

He takes a deep breath and finally slips out of George’s body, staying on top of him as he reaches up to stroke his fingertips reverently across George’s face.

“You are—“ Lee pauses, chuckling a little and looking at George as if he’s in disbelief. “There aren’t words for what you are.”

George smiles at that, his cheeks flushing pink with genuine pleasure at the implied compliment. He bends a knee on either side of Lee's hips, cradling himself against his body.

"I think you'll find that there are plenty of words for what I am," he says. "I've heard all of them."

“Well, you’re all those things for sure,” Lee teases, but it’s true. George is a brat and a slut and sometimes an asshole, but he’s so much more than that, too. He’s complicated and infuriating and so endlessly interesting.

“But that isn’t all you are,” Lee assures him, cradling the back of George’s head to draw him in for another soft, lingering kiss. “You have no idea what you do to me, baby. You—“

He pauses, blushing a little and nudging their noses together. “You make my life so much better than I thought it could be.”

People have said things like that to George before, maybe, but none of them have meant it, not really. With Lee, though, George can see the truth of it in Lee's extraordinary eyes.

"Let's go to bed," he says. "I want to be in bed with you."

“Yes,” Lee says quickly, kissing George and sitting up. There’s a mess of toys around them, and a sticky bowl and stickier boot to clean, but all that can wait.

“Do you need anything? Do you want to go take a shower?” Lee asks as he gets to his feet, turning to hold out a hand to help George up. It’s only then that it seems to occur to him that he still has all his clothes on, even those sticky boots.

“Fuck,” he says with laugh, bending over to untie his boots, feeling a shiver of pleasure as he looks at the slick mess George left all over one of them. “You haven’t even seen me naked today.”

"That's what I need," says George, starting to umbutton Lee's shirt once he straightens up. "You, naked and in my bed when I get out of the shower?"

Normally, he'd wait until he was sure they were done, but he feels sticky from the dessert, and it feels like he could do with a fresh start to the evening.

"And water. Please."

“I can do that,” Lee says easily, smiling as George unbuttons his shirt. He doesn’t even mind that George needs time alone. It was a very heavy evening and Lee could use a few moments on his own, too.

He steps out of his boots and goes to get a water bottle from the fridge, handing it over to George and taking his face in both hands, kissing him on the mouth and then on the forehead.

“Take all the time you need,” he tells him, nudging their noses together. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

George takes the water into the shower with him, drinking the whole thing in a few long pulls. He lets the warm water sluice over him, washes his hair and, when he gets out, brushes his teeth. Eventually, he pads out of the bathroom, a clean white towel wrapped around his waist and water still beading on his chest.

George leaves the room and Lee neatens up the worst of it, putting the things that need to be cleaned in the kitchen before draining his own bottle of water. He finishes undressing and gives himself a quick scrub down with a wet washcloth, then takes the last piece of cake and two more water bottles into the bedroom.

After carefully putting away the collar and leash, Lee dims the lights and pulls the covers back, crawling into bed and collapsing onto his back with a sigh. This bed feels more like his than his own, and he tries not to think about what that might mean.

He’s sprawled on his back with one arm up behind his head, lounging comfortably, when George comes back into the room. He’s all wet with a towel slung low around his waist, and Lee rolls his eyes.

“God, you’re just hideous,” he says with a scoff, grinning as he lets his gaze skim appreciatively over George’s body. “Truly an ogre.”

"You know, someone once called me "the finest bodied man in all of England"," says George, smugly, glancing in the mirror when combing wet hair back from his face. He looks at the reflection of Lee in the mirror, sprawled naked and lovely in rumpled sheets and something in his chest contracts. He'd been thinking about what he said to Lee for a while. It's not any easier now that he's said it, albeit in words Lee didn't understand.

"Making yourself comfortable?" He asks. The look on his face suggests that he wouldn't expect any less.

“I see you didn’t let it go to your head or anything,” Lee says with a roll of his eyes, laughing as he props his head up on his hand, stretching out along the bed. Lee knows that he’s attractive in his own way, but there’s no way that they’re in the same league. George is the type of beauty that people would fight wars for.

Hell, maybe they have.

“Mm, your sheets are softer than mine,” Lee says as he rolls over onto his stomach, burying his face in a pillow that smells like George.

"I don't know what you mean," says George, turning back from the mirror and dropping his towel, crawling up onto the bed with Lee and draping himself over his back, kissing the back of his neck.

"They should be. They were expensive."