atehimrightup | (no subject)

George is patient with him, soothing him with reassuring sounds and gentle touches, and Lee relaxes into it. He sounds pleased, and Lee wants to keep making that happen.

He jolts a little when George touches his cock, not quite expecting it. His hips twitch and he whines in apology, straightening himself again and biting on the gag.

Lee huffs at the words and resists the urge to stamp his foot, only belatedly realizing the irony in reacting in the same way a horse might.

"I think you probably deserve that, don't you?" says George, moving around the bed to get the lube before he moves out of Lee's line of sight again. "A good hard fuck."

Lee isn’t sure if he deserves it, but he most certainly wants it. Instead of answering out loud, he whines around the gag and moves only enough to tilt his hips and stick his ass in the air, presenting himself shamelessly.

His face is burning red and there’s spit all over his chin, leaking from the corner of his mouth. It’s not even just from the gag. He just wants so badly, and the gag makes it harder for him to swallow the evidence.

George disappears behind him again and Lee whines, fingers digging into the duvet as he trembles with the effort of holding himself still.

George watches Lee visibly struggle for a moment as he opens the lube. He pauses.

"You can move," he says. "Since you can't talk, you can show me how much you want it, sweetheart."

Lee makes a grateful sound and blows the air out his lungs, turning his head to look over his shoulder at George. The leather strap of the bit digs into his cheek and he lets out a needy whine as he rocks his hips back, trying to seek out contact.

“Please,” Lee tries to say, but it comes out muddled and garbled and Lee is red down to the middle of his back and chest, overwhelmed with need and feeling very far from calm, but George will get him there.

Oh, he likes that very much -- the garbled way the word comes out, the flush on Lee's skin, the needy squirm of his hips.

"Good boy," he says, spreading Lee's cheeks with the fingers of one hand and rubbing the slick fingers of the other against his hole.

Lee lets out another whimper and practically keens when George’s wet fingers tease at his hole. He wants nothing more than to have George fill him up, to take him and have him until it’s the only thing in Lee’s mind.

He rocks up onto his toes and presses back against George’s hand, chasing more of that teasing pressure.

Lee is needy and squirming already, and George would be lying if he said he didn't love it. There's a level of control to Lee, most of the time -- something that George now understands why -- but there's such utter loveliness in being the one who gets to dismantle it and see him like this.

He making soft, soothing noises under his breath as he starts to work a finger into Lee's arse.

George shushes him like a spooked animal and it should be humiliating, but it’s just so good. He forces himself to take a breath, though it catches in his throat when George’s finger works into him.

He’s going slow, slower than he needs to, and Lee lets out a grunting sound but doesn’t plead for more just yet. His head hangs between his shoulders, spit dripping from his mouth, and he lets out a ragged moan.

George fucks Lee's arse with one finger for a moment, knowing that it's not enough, that it won't feel like nearly enough and then he draws it all of the way out of him. "Get your knees up on the bed," he says, keeping his voice low and level and calm.

“Yes, master,” he says as best he can around the gag, biting down on it instead of crying out in protest when George stops touching him. The instruction is a relief and Lee nods jerkily, climbing onto the bed in a way that’s agile and cat-like, shoulders and hips slinking as he arranges himself on all fours.

He wonders if that one finger is all he’ll get. The thought is sort of thrilling, and he swallows hard as he arches his spine down, ass tilting up in a way that makes him feel like a needy slut.

With George, most of the time, it feels like he is.

"I bet I could fuck you just like this," says George, pressing that one slick finger back into Lee's arse and fucking him a little rougher with it. "It would be tight and it might sting, but I don't think you'd mind that, would you?"

That lone finger presses into him again, quick and rough, and Lee lets out a muffled grunt. He feels like an animal again, but this time it’s not in a negative way. He just feels like a simpler creature, reduced to base desires.

Something seems to click for him then. He knows what it feels like to lose himself to primal instincts, but it’s always been hunger. Every time he’s given into that need and let himself be an animal, it came with guilt and shame and the knowledge that he’d just done something horrible.

But not here. Not with George, not now that he knows the truth. Lee can let himself give into it, sink into that animal desire, and know that nothing bad can happen. He’s safe— every single part of him. All of his broken parts and dark urges.

Lee lets out a needy whine at the question, suddenly wanting nothing more than to feel every single inch of George. He wants the burn of it, and he nods so hard that he gags around the bit in his mouth, drooling all over his chin as he shifts his tongue to let it resettle more comfortably.

He hadn't been expecting quite such an emphatic reaction from Lee, the grunts and the moans, the nodding and the rocking of his hips. It's more than clear what he wants, and the thought of giving it to him has him rock hard, the front of tight trousers straining uncomfortably.

"Good boy," he says, landing a warm slap on Lee's arse, squeezing. "That's what you want."

The slap is unexpected, but Lee knows that is isn’t meant to be a punishment. The sting of it feels good, pain fizzing away into pleasure just under the service of his skin. It makes him moan approvingly around the gag, nodding again as he tips his ass up into George’s hand.

“That’s what I need,” he says as best he can, licking spit from the corner of his mouth. His cock aches and he lets out another needy whine, turning to give George a pleading look over his shoulder.

"Far be it for me to deny you what you need," says George, pulling his finger out of Lee and reaching for the lube. He squeezes some directly onto Lee's hole, pressing it into him with the pad of his thumb. He opens his trousers, freeing his aching cock and coats it liberally. He positions himself and starts to work himself into Lee's arse, pressing just the head inside at first and then giving Lee a moment to adjust.

Lee’s hips squirm as he waits, fingers twisting in the bedding as his elbows shake. But then George is pressing into him and everything goes still.

It doesn’t hurt, not really. There’s pain but it’s good. It makes everything go quiet, drawing his focus until there isn’t anything else but this. Lee breathes in deep and bares down, groaning as he rocks himself back onto George’s cock, trying to urge him deeper.

Difficult as it is, George makes himself go slow. He smoothes his free hand against Lee's spine, making soft noises under his breath.

"Easy," he says, soft but firm. "Just take it. I'll give you all of it. Don't worry."

Easy, George says, and Lee whines but makes himself go still, only shifting down onto his elbows when his arms begin to shake too much. It means that there’s an even more obscene arch to his back, ass tipped up while George’s cock sinks into him so slowly.

But he was told not to worry, so he doesn’t. He takes a deep breath around the gag and nods, feeling his brain go fuzzy around the edges.

George shifts when Lee moves, making sure his cock stays inside him. He moves his hips forward, pressing another inch inside him.

"Get a hand to your cock," he says, with that firm, authoritative tone that he knows has such a beautiful effect on Lee. "Don't stroke. Just hold it." He wants Lee to feel the friction but he doesn't want him to get there too soon.

Lee shivers at the command, groaning softly and shifting all his weight to one elbow and rocking back the slightest bit, desperate to have more of George’s cock inside of him. It’s absurd how empty he feels, even half full.

“Yes, master,” he breathes out around the bit, wiping drool on his shoulder as he shifts a hand under his body. Just the brush of his fingers against his cock makes him yelp, hips jerking, but he takes a deep breath and curls his hand around it, holding firmly but keeping his hand still. The pressure provides some relief, but at the same time it’s agony.

He wants more, but he knows that he just has to be patient.

He smiles when Lee shifts immediately, when he wraps his hand around his cock. George hears the way his breath hitches. He keeps up the steady movement of his hips; without much preparation, Lee's arse is almost impossibly tight, and he doesn't want to slip into a bad kind of hurting. He keeps one hand firm on Lee's back, smoothing against his skin, his cock pressing deeper. "You feel so fucking good. Perfect."

Lee whimpers at the praise, chest expanding as his fingers twitch around his cock. He wants so badly to fuck into his fist, or shove himself back on George’s cock. He’s going so slow and Lee knows he could take it. He’s taken so much worse, taken it with only spit, and—

And, what? Those times didn’t feel good. They aren’t something he wants to remember. George is doing this because he doesn’t want to hurt Lee, not even if it’s what he wants in the moment, and Lee feels his eyes gloss over as he whimpers again.

“Thank you,” he breathes out, and he’s not even sure what for. All of it, maybe.

"You're welcome," says George, his voice still low, still warm, as he keeps up the steady press of his cock until he's pressed all the way into Lee's arse. He pauses, both hands on Lee's hips to hold him there. "You feel so good, sweetheart," he murmurs. "It's never felt like this with anyone else."

They're just words, really, but, God, he means every single one of them.

Finally, after what feels like hours but could have barely been minutes, George is snug against him. Lee can feel the soft hang of his balls resting against his own, all of their parts slotting together so perfectly that Lee chokes on an inhale.

“Never”,” Lee says emphatically. There’s more that he wants to say, but he feels fuzzy all over and the bit in his mouth makes it hard. He wants to say that he’s still so amazed that it can feel like this. Every single time is a revelation, a gift.

He can’t find the words, so he moans and rocks himself back against George, clenching down around him like he wants to keep him deep inside, and hopes it says enough.