Lee (
atehimrightup) wrote2025-08-20 08:54 pm
Entry tags:
happy birthday, george
Lee has never put much stock into birthdays. His own never really mattered to him, because it never really mattered to anyone else. He would always try to get something for Kayla on her birthday, but that was about the extent of it.
All that is to say that Lee feels woefully prepared to plan a birthday for his-- whatever George is. Boyfriend? That feels so juvenile, like it isn't important enough.
He stresses about it more than he probably needs to, but he's never had the opportunity to celebrate something like this with someone he cares about. Which is already sort of a big deal, but George was the lover of a literal king and was undoubtedly showered with expensive gifts on a regular basis. Lee has no idea how to compete with that, even though he can hear George's voice in his head telling him that it isn't a competition. Which is good, because he'd probably lose.
The actual night isn't much of a problem. He comes up with a plan pretty easily, one that's simple but romantic, he thinks. It's the gift that's the problem. Because nothing in this whole goddamn city is good enough for George. Nothing that he can afford, anyway.
Just days before, he still hasn't found anything and he's getting sort of desperate. He distracts himself by going on a hunt because he really does need to eat, which sort of just makes him feel worse because of the guilt. But the guy is (was) a verified scumbag and women walking alone at night will be safer without him around, so he doesn't feel too bad.
In the guy's pocket is a receipt for a pawn shop that Lee has never heard of, so he goes to check it out the next day. It's in a terrible part of town and there isn't really even a sign. Inside it's dusty and unorganized and Lee just assumes it's some sort of front for something else. Still, he decides to look around while some guy comes out from the back and eyes him with wary suspicion, like he's surprised to see someone in the shop at all.
He finds a dusty jewelry display case and heads toward it hopefully, crouching down in front of it. Inside are mostly gold chains and tennis bracelets, all generic shit that wouldn't suit George at all, and he's about to give up when he spots a blue velvet box tucked back into a corner, half-hidden under a gaudy necklace. It looks like earrings and Lee rises to his feet and coolly asks to take a look at them, not wanting to show any excitement and inadvertently drive the price up. He knows how these places operate.
The guy takes them out of the case and Lee picks them up, doing his best to keep a placid expression even though he's pretty sure he just found what he's looking for. The box looks well-preserved but very old, as do the earrings themselves. He has no idea if the stones are real, but they look like it. There's a small piece of yellowed paper tucked inside, and when Lee discreetly unfolds it he finds elegant cursive scrawl and, most importantly, it's dated 1827. That confirms that they’re old, probably very old, and this guy doesn’t seem to really realize what he has. They're perfect.
Lee is prepared to use every trick in his arsenal to haggle a deal, but it's not even that hard. The guy seems wholly uninterested in this alleged business, and Lee is annoying and persistent, so he ends up getting them for a price that, while painful, won't leave him destitute. When he leaves the shop, earrings tucked carefully into his pocket, he feels lighter than he has in days.
George's birthday comes and they sleep in, then fuck a few times and sleep some more. Lee makes them a late lunch and then tells George that he needs to go run a few errands before they go to dinner, but there's an obvious twinkle in his eye. He leaves George's apartment and goes to his own where he's left all the supplies, and then goes and sets everything up before heading back toward George's building, texting him and telling him to come downstairs, even as he parks and gets out to go meet him by the elevators in the lobby.
He's nervous, but he thinks that this might actually go well. He might actually pull it off.
All that is to say that Lee feels woefully prepared to plan a birthday for his-- whatever George is. Boyfriend? That feels so juvenile, like it isn't important enough.
He stresses about it more than he probably needs to, but he's never had the opportunity to celebrate something like this with someone he cares about. Which is already sort of a big deal, but George was the lover of a literal king and was undoubtedly showered with expensive gifts on a regular basis. Lee has no idea how to compete with that, even though he can hear George's voice in his head telling him that it isn't a competition. Which is good, because he'd probably lose.
The actual night isn't much of a problem. He comes up with a plan pretty easily, one that's simple but romantic, he thinks. It's the gift that's the problem. Because nothing in this whole goddamn city is good enough for George. Nothing that he can afford, anyway.
Just days before, he still hasn't found anything and he's getting sort of desperate. He distracts himself by going on a hunt because he really does need to eat, which sort of just makes him feel worse because of the guilt. But the guy is (was) a verified scumbag and women walking alone at night will be safer without him around, so he doesn't feel too bad.
In the guy's pocket is a receipt for a pawn shop that Lee has never heard of, so he goes to check it out the next day. It's in a terrible part of town and there isn't really even a sign. Inside it's dusty and unorganized and Lee just assumes it's some sort of front for something else. Still, he decides to look around while some guy comes out from the back and eyes him with wary suspicion, like he's surprised to see someone in the shop at all.
He finds a dusty jewelry display case and heads toward it hopefully, crouching down in front of it. Inside are mostly gold chains and tennis bracelets, all generic shit that wouldn't suit George at all, and he's about to give up when he spots a blue velvet box tucked back into a corner, half-hidden under a gaudy necklace. It looks like earrings and Lee rises to his feet and coolly asks to take a look at them, not wanting to show any excitement and inadvertently drive the price up. He knows how these places operate.
The guy takes them out of the case and Lee picks them up, doing his best to keep a placid expression even though he's pretty sure he just found what he's looking for. The box looks well-preserved but very old, as do the earrings themselves. He has no idea if the stones are real, but they look like it. There's a small piece of yellowed paper tucked inside, and when Lee discreetly unfolds it he finds elegant cursive scrawl and, most importantly, it's dated 1827. That confirms that they’re old, probably very old, and this guy doesn’t seem to really realize what he has. They're perfect.
Lee is prepared to use every trick in his arsenal to haggle a deal, but it's not even that hard. The guy seems wholly uninterested in this alleged business, and Lee is annoying and persistent, so he ends up getting them for a price that, while painful, won't leave him destitute. When he leaves the shop, earrings tucked carefully into his pocket, he feels lighter than he has in days.
George's birthday comes and they sleep in, then fuck a few times and sleep some more. Lee makes them a late lunch and then tells George that he needs to go run a few errands before they go to dinner, but there's an obvious twinkle in his eye. He leaves George's apartment and goes to his own where he's left all the supplies, and then goes and sets everything up before heading back toward George's building, texting him and telling him to come downstairs, even as he parks and gets out to go meet him by the elevators in the lobby.
He's nervous, but he thinks that this might actually go well. He might actually pull it off.

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"Oh, God, the things you say," murmurs George, shifting so that he can kiss along the curve of Lee's shoulder and the side of his neck. He sucks, nipping with the edges of his teeth, and then he bites, properly bites, just as hard as he thinks Lee wants. Maybe not quite, but close.
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This time, George bites him harder than he expects. It’s enough to break through skin, at least a little, and Lee cries out at the pain and pleasure of it. That pain turns into electricity, buzzing under his skin, and his cock lurches as Lee all but sobs. He doesn’t come, but it’s a close, close thing.
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He tastes, he thinks, blood on the tip of his fingers and he kisses the skin that he just bit, his body still draped over Lee's.
"Enough? More?"
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Going forward, whenever Lee thinks about what it feels like to be bitten, he’ll think of this. He’ll think of this and nothing else. It’s like he can feel terrible memories being overwritten, and he’s so relieved that he lets out a sob.
He’s never felt more grateful to anyone in his life than he does to George in that moment.
“Whatever you want,” Lee says honestly, turning his head to try and look at George’s face, wanting desperately to see him. “I just need you inside me. Whatever you do, please just do it while you’re inside me.”
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George is still for a moment, but then he nods. He pulls away, reaching for the lube, and sprawls on his back, one leg bent as he slicks his cock, his back arching at the way it feels.
"I want you to ride me," he says. "I want to watch."
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“You’re asking a lot of my coordination,” he rasps out, pushing himself onto his hands and knees and turning until he can climb over and straddle George’s lap, knocking his hand away from his cock so Lee can grab it himself. “You want me to ride you like an animal, don’t you?”
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George grins at that, at the tone of Lee's voice and the way he grabs at his cock, both. He nods.
"I do. That's exactly what I want."
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He sinks down all at once, crying out and slapping a hand down onto George’s chest, fingertips digging into his skin. “Fuck, George.”
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He grunts at the combination of sensation -- Lee sliding down onto his cock, and the slap of Lee's palm against his chest, the sound of skin on skin obscenely loud in the quiet of the trees.
"That's it," he says. "Just like that."
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He braces his weight against the hand on George’s chest, tipping forward as he starts to roll his hips, pulling up slowly and shoving himself back down hard, over and over again. His lip curls back slightly to bare his teeth and he whines, sliding his hand down until his fingers are pressed to George’s nipple, tugging at the bar. “Hold onto me.”
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His hands immediately go to Lee's hips, squeezing, overlapping the burgeoning bruises that he left there earlier on in the night. He rolls his hips up to meet the rock of Lee's on top of him.
"An animal, you promised me," he teases, although it already feels so good it's almost obscene.
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But right now it’s different. His heart beats and he can hear the wind in the trees and George’s blood rushing in his veins. He’s wild in a way that feels free.
He leans into that feeling and starts to bounce on George’s cock faster, thrusts so shallow that they’re practically rutting together. Lee’s hair falls into his face and he drags his nails down George’s chest and across his ribs, just hard enough to leave faint pink lines.
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The pain of Lee's nails on his skin is delicious, and George arches into it, a ragged moan slipping out of him. Before he'd met Lee, he hadn't been so aware of how fine the line between pain and pleasure can be.
"Do that again," he says. "Harder."
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His other hand curls around George’s throat, squeezing while they make eye contact. Then his fingers trail down to his collarbone, along the sharp ridge before he finally scratches the corners of his fingernails along the soft skin just beneath.
Lee’s nails are sharp, every bit like the animal he feels like right now.
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The hand at his throat is perfect, tight enough that he feels the pressure when he swallows, and then Lee's nails dig into him and the pain is so sharp, so perfect, that he almost sobs, his hips jerking to push his cock deeper into Lee's arse.
"Again," he manages. "More."
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He lets go of George’s throat and drops his hand to drag his fingernails across George’s heart, pressing in enough that skin gathers under his fingernails. And then, because George wants it to hurt, Lee pinches at his nipple with another low growl, applying more pressure than he’s dared since George got them pierced.
He tugs at it, staring down at the tiny beads of blood welling up along one of the lines left behind by his fingernail as he bounces almost aggressively on George’s cock.
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It's exactly what he wants, all of it -- the hand on his throat that stops him breathing for a second, the bloody scrapes on his chest, the way Lee pinches his nipple. It goes right to his cock.
"Are you going to come?" he asks. "Make a mess of me?"
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He feels out of his mind, huffing and grunting as he shoves himself back onto George’s cock. He’s close, but not yet.
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He lifts one arm, curling it around Lee to hold him close to him, hips rocking to rut up into him. "You can do more," he says, breathless. "More blood. If you want."
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Lee whines and swallows hard, putting his hand on George’s chest, just over his heart. His thumbnail is sharp and Lee digs the corner of it into George’s skin, pressing in and pushing up. Blood wells to the surface and Lee fixes his mouth to the spot, letting out a possessive growl and putting his hands on the ground on either side of George’s shoulders, caging him in as he licks and sucks, tasting copper on his tongue. Tasting George.
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He doesn't really understand the fact that it's blood, not really, but he's pretty sure he understands how it makes Lee feel. One arm stays looped around Lee, keeping him close, the other slipping down to his arse, squeezing, fingers brushing against the place where he pushes into him. They're all but squirming against each other. It's ungainly. Undignified. Perfect.
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He can feel his orgasm building like a wild, out of control thing and he bites hard at the top of George’s shoulder as he comes between their bodies, hips jerking as he lets out a sound somewhere between a grunt and a squeal, teeth still pressed into George’s skin.
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The bite is hard enough that he yelps, his hips bucking a handful of times before he comes too, his cock buried deep in Lee's arse.
"Fuck," he mumbles, stroking his hand along Lee's spine.
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It’s a very dangerous place for George to be, all things considered. But Lee would never, could never hurt him. Even the animal inside him could never hurt him. George has won over them both, beauty to his beast.
Eventually Lee goes limp, laying on top of George with his knees curled under him, keeping George’s cock inside of him. He curls one hand over the top of George’s head, lapping at his neck.
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He could lie there forever, his cock still inside Lee, Lee's come cooling between their bodies. He groans softly at the feeling of Lee's tongue on his skin, tilting his head against the pillow to give him more room.
"I don't think I'm ever going to move again," he says. "I think we live here now."
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