atehimrightup | (no subject)

“Oh my god,” Lee says with a delighted laugh, reaching over to playfully push at George’s face before starting the engine. “I’m going to live to regret this, aren’t I?”

He highly, highly doubts it, and he doesn’t even consider it when he heads away from their building and toward the toy shop. Because he’ll give George whatever he wants. Even if it’s going to the sex shop in that outfit so he can peruse riding crops specifically to embarrass Lee. He’s so whipped.

"Perhaps." He doesn't intend to make Lee doubt it, but he does like flustering Lee, likes getting him to the point where he's so turned on he's incoherent and blushing. "But I doubt it. I'll make it up to you."

"Of that I have no doubt," Lee assures him in a tone that's steadier, but still fond. He glances over at George, looking at home in his beat up truck holding his bunch of flowers, and Lee is so in love that he doesn't know what to do with it all.

Eventually they make it to the shop and Lee parks out front. It looks slightly more skeevy in the harsh light of day, but Lee doesn't mind. He likes this place. The people are nice and nonjudgmental, and this is where George learned the first few clues about what Lee is. It's where he told Lee that it was okay to like what he likes, and that had seemed like such a big deal then. It still does, but it reminds him just how far they've come.

"After you, darling," Lee says after he's raced around to open George's door for him, leaning over in an exaggerated bow. "Your palace awaits."

Lee's relaxed a little bit, which is good. George leaves his flowers on the seat, sliding out of the truck. He cups the side of Lee's face when he straightens, pulling him in for a kiss. "This is about you, not me," he teases. "Let's not forget that."

"You're the one who wanted to come here," Lee mumbles against George's mouth, but he knows what George means and it makes him feel warm all over. He smiles, kisses George again, and then takes his hand to lead him into the shop. He's not so flustered anymore, not like he was the first time, but it's still a trip so see so many explicitly gay things on display and to not have them hidden in a shadowy corner somewhere.

"Hi," Lee says to the dark haired girl who casually greets them from behind the counter. And then, maybe to get a jump on George embarrassing him, he continues. "My boyfriend would like a riding crop."

"Yeah, the outfit kind of gave it away," she says blandly, but she's smiling and pointing. "The pony play section is over there. Hook a right at the butt plugs."

Oh no. Before George can even say anything, Lee all but jumps on his back and slaps a hand over his mouth. "Oh no." The girl raises her eyebrows and Lee sort of wants to die. "This is going to be terrible for me."

George's eyebrows raise at what the girl says, but also the way Lee reacts to it, the hand over his mouth. He gently disengages himself, a definite smirk on his face. "Well, we should definitely go and look at that," he says. He offers Lee his hand. "Come on, love."

Lee lets out an exaggerated whine and takes George's hand as if he's being led to the gallows, but it's mostly for show. He just hates being out of his element and so vulnerable, but he reminds himself that it's okay because he's with George and although George will surely tease him, he won't actually judge him or be cruel.

"Just remember that I'm emotionally fragile," he says as he's tugged through the shop past a wide array of butt plugs and leather. And yeah, wow. There's a whole sign and everything. Pony Play. There's a whole leather mask with little leather horse ears and a mane and Lee shoots George a glare. "Don't even think about it. I will set this whole place on fire."

"I'll remember," says George, squeezing Lee's fingers. "I'll take care of you, sweetheart." His eyebrows raise at the leather mask. "Don't worry. I remember you don't want to be a horse. Though..." He tilts his head at a display of plugs with tails. "I'll admit that those are tempting."

George promises to take care of him and it might be a little sarcastic, and George might be a little bit of a bitch, but that just makes Lee love him so much more. At least, that is, until he turns to see wheat George is gesturing at and rolls his eyes expansively.

"Baby steps," he says with a smirk, then turns to pick out a black leather riding crop. He studies it, trails the tail down his arm and smacks it against his palm with a satisfying thwack. "Is there anything else you use? Stuff that doesn't--" He feels his cheeks go hot again and feels annoyed with himself. "Stuff that the horse doesn't wear, but you use on the horse." He holds out the riding crop. "Like this?"

Lee blushes, and George smirks. He can't help but imagine the way the crop would feel on his bare skin, but this isn't about him, right now. "Do you mean for correction or just in general? Because I was using a curry comb before, but I don't think that would feel good on bare skin."

"I don't think I will need to be corrected that much," Lee says in a quiet voice, biting nervously at his bottom lip. He feels insecure, suddenly. The focus on correction makes him nervous, even though he's the one with a riding crop in his hand. "I can be good."

He blinks a few times and turns to look at the wall of toys, crossing his arms over his chest as he takes it all in. When he came to something of a realization earlier, he hadn't expected plugs and toys and he can't help but to feel a little overwhelmed. Not necessarily in a bad way. He just feels anxious and unsettled, which isn't at all unusual for him. And that's the problem.

"I'm at a loss here," he admits as he keeps staring at the wall, eyes darting back and forth. "I'm open to suggestion."

"I don't think you will, either," says George, stepping in behind Lee, pressing against his back and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. "And, honestly, I don't think we need any of that. I don't think that's really what you need." He leans his chin against Lee's shoulder for a moment. "I do like the idea of a gag, though. I wear them more often that you and I do think it'll help put you in the mind that I think you're looking for. Just listening to me and letting me handle everything."

The tension bleeds out of him a little when George presses in close, head tipping to the side as George's lips find his neck. Lee's eyes fall shut at the low sound of George's voice and he finds himself nodding a little, then opens his eyes and looks at the gags on the wall, wincing a bit when he stops on a rather complicated one.

"I want to still be able to breathe through my mouth," he says quietly. "I-- I don't want to be muzzled or anything like that. It-- I think it'd make me think too much about-- you know."

A muzzle would make him feel like even more of a dangerous animal, and he'd never be able to relax. "But-- yeah, that sounds good. I trust you."

George makes a soft, thoughtful sound as he looks at their options. "I joked about a bit earlier, but that's not a bad idea. Something between your teeth, but still pretty mobile. You could breathe around it, talk around it. Better than a ball, definitely. Nothing with too many straps."

"Okay, yeah. I could try that," Lee agrees easily, watching as George pulls something off of the wall. There are so many other things, most of which Lee couldn't even begin to identify, but he can't stop looking at George. "Is that enough to start? I kind of just imagined you using your hands."

He doesn't want to rush, and he knows that George was teasing him about drawing it out, but it's making him nervous. He feels all full of energy, like he wants to pace around, and he swallows hard as he shifts on his feet and stares plaintively at George.

"I think that's enough," says George, gently taking the crop out of Lee's hand. It's a more modern design than he would ever have used during a hunt back home, but it's graceful and he appreciates that. "You can go and wait for me, if you want. I'll pay for these."

"Are you like, telling me to go?" Lee asks, reaching out to curl his hand around George's wrist. "Because if so, I will. Otherwise I kind of never want to leave your side. You were already gone so much today."

He realizes what he's said and wrinkles his nose, laughing a bit and leaning in to press a kiss to George's cheek. "Come on, let's go before I make more romantic declarations next to the horse tail butt plugs."

Grinning, he drags George toward the register. "And we're splitting the cost because this is a partnership, baby."

"No, I'm not telling you to go," says George, unreasonably pleased. After they pay, they walk out, hand in hand.

"I'm going to make this good for you," says George. "I promise."

Lee shivers at that, feeling warm and turned on and loved, and he can't help but to press George up against the truck and give him a long, drawn out kiss.

"Are you going to keep the pants and boots on?" He asks against his mouth, laughing huskily and kissing him again while reaching out to tug open the passenger side door. "Please say yes."

His grin softens and he gives George one more kiss before stepping away. "I know you will."

"If that's what you want," says George, easily, as he climbs into the truck and shuts the door. "The shirt negotiable here, is it?"

"For you, shirts should always be negotiable," Lee says as he hops in next to him, smirking over at him as the truck roars to life. "You are just-- so fucking nice to look at."

After leaning over to steal one more quick kiss, Lee drives them home. Thankfully, it's not very long before he's pulling into his usual parking spot. The sun is just dipping below the horizon, and Lee takes George's hand as they walk through the lobby of their building. George is holding a discreet black bag, but the loop of the riding crop sticking out the top of it sort of gives it away.

They ride up the elevator with an old white-haired lady who keeps shooting them disgusted looks, whether because of the sex toy bag or because they're holding hands or because Lee is staring at George like he wants to drop to his knees right here, he can't be sure.

If George even notices the way the woman was looking at him, he doesn't given any indication. His hand stays firm in Lee's. After he lets them into the apartment, he shrugs out of his jacket.

"Go and stand at the foot of the bed for me," he says, slipping back easily into the tone he uses with horses, calm and measured. "I need to put these flowers in water."

Well, that answers Lee's question of how and when they're going to do this. George's voice is calm but leaves no room for argument, but Lee doesn't have one. He wants nothing more than to obey.

"Okay," he says simply, twin pink spots high on his cheeks as he turns to head for the bedroom. George didn't tell him to undress so Lee stands at the end of the bed in his clothes and shoes, feeling nervous and giddy all at once.

He doesn't make him wait long, putting the flowers in water and setting them in the middle of the table and then shrugging out of his jacket and walking into the bedroom, bag in hand. He stands in the doorway for a moment, just looking at Lee standing there.

"Good boy," he says, walking up behind him, putting both hands on his shoulders and squeezing firmly. He takes his hands away to wrap them in the hem of Lee's sweater and start to tug it upwards. "Arms up."

As Lee waits, his mind rushes to fill the silence. They just had such a seismic thing happen between them and they’re still finding their footing again. What if this isn’t good time to introduce something new like this?

He fidgets and he worries, but then George is standing in the doorway and looking at him like he’s something special and it stills him. Then George calls him a good boy and all the racing thoughts seem to come to a halt, fading into static as George gets closer. His hands are heavy on Lee’s shoulders, his grip strong and reassuring in a way that makes tension bleed out of him.

Right now, he doesn’t need to worry about anything. He just has to be good, and George will take care of the rest.

He raises his arms up over his head, breathing in deep as the fabric covers his face. Once it’s off, he shakes a few curls out of his face and turns his head to try and look at George.

Lee wants to tell him how good he smells right now, but he’s not sure if he’s supposed to talk. He’s not even sure if he wants to talk, so he settles for leaning in slightly and inhaling deeply through his nose once George is close enough.