atehimrightup | (no subject)

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george

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Lee is well aware of George's love of horses, and knows that he goes to ride sometimes, but he's never seen it in action. He just has no experience with horses, and never had much of an interest in them.

But things are different now. After everything that's happened, Lee finds himself wanting to know more about the things that George cares about. Nothing would make him happier.

Lee agrees to meet George at the stables and shows up in his normal clothes, jeans and a baggy sweatshirt that might actually be George's, and his leather boots. He doesn't know if he'll actually be riding a horse or just watching. He kind of hopes it's the latter.

When he gets to the stables, someone points him in the right direction and he heads for a barn, pausing at the door when he hears all the horses moving around. They're large, powerful animals and Lee feels slightly uneasy around them, if only because it's so unfamiliar.

"George?" He calls out, peeking his head into the barn. "Are you in here?"

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Lee knows that George enjoys him like this, embarrassing as he might normally find it. Right now, it only makes it better. It makes everything burn even hotter.

He can feel George’s approval in the bite of his nails and Lee practically keens, shoving himself back onto George’s cock. When he speaks again, Lee sobs with relief.

“Thank you,” he gets out, voice thick with tears as his fist tightens. He drags it up his cock and the friction nearly makes him black out. With George’s ongoing assault on his prostate, it only takes a few pumps of his fist before he’s taking a deep breath and tipping headlong into an orgasm that makes his entire body seize up before he’s dragged under the cresting wave, sobbing his way through it.

Lee trembles and sobs his way through his orgasm, and it's fucking beautiful. George fucks him through it, whispering soft nonsense under his breath. He keeps up the movement on his hips.

"I don't know whether I want to come inside you or whether I want to come on you so that I can have the pleasure of cleaning it off."

Lee is aware of very little else but the pleasure coursing through him, and the feeling of warm contentment draped over him like a heavy blanket. It’s safety and love and all these things that Lee never thought he would get to feel, all of them all at once, and he loses himself in it.

He becomes vaguely aware of George speaking and he nods before he even processes the words because it doesn’t matter what they are. If George wants it, he can have it.

“Anything,” Lee rasps out, sucking saliva from the corner of his mouth with an obscene noise. “Just don’t stop.”

For a moment, he can't decide -- he loves coming inside Lee, loves how close it makes him feel, but he also loves how his come looks on Lee's skin. He fucks him for another thrust instead and, in the end, he decides to stay right where he is, rocking his hips until everything comes to a crescendo and he comes, his cock buried as deep in Lee's body as he can get.

Even as out of it as he is, Lee can still tell when George is about to come. He’s so attuned to George’s body, which in itself feels like a gift. He goes tense, grunting as he shoves his hips forward, and Lee moans encouragingly as he shoves himself back, spine arched obscenely.

“Fuck, baby. Thank you,” he pants out, pressing his cheek to the bed and letting his wet hand fall to the sheets. “Feels so good.”

George trembles his way through it and, when he's spent, knowing Lee's preferences as well as he knows his own, he stays where he is, still inside Lee, hands still tight on his hips.

"I hope you don't think I'm going to be done with once," he says, bending low to press a kiss against Lee's back.

Lee shakes his head as best he can, because he certainly doesn’t want this to be over. George is still deep inside of him, pressing in on all the shivery, overstimulated parts of him and dragging out his pleasure until it feels like he’s sinking into a warm bath.

“I don’t,” he mumbles, whimpering softly when he feels George’s lips against his skin. “I want more.”

"Of course you do," says George, softly, like its the most obvious thing in the world. He shifts his hips, pulling out of Lee's body and stepping back from the bed. "On your back, darling. Let me look at you."

George pulls out of him and Lee whines at the loss, feeling his body clench around the sudden emptiness. Come leaks out of him, trailing down his thigh, and Lee feels so pleasantly used.

As much as he wants to comply, it seems to take a moment for Lee to remember how his limbs work. Finally he heaves a breath and shifts his body, twisting until he can roll over onto his back next to the wet spot he’s made, come all over his fingers and wrist as he throws his arms up over his head.

There are tear tracks on his cheeks on his face and drool over his chin, lips red where they’re stretched around the gag at the corners. His chest heaves with another breath and he lifts his knees and spreads his legs wide, heels digging into the bed as he stares at George’s face.

He looks so satisfied, so pleased, and it’s enough that Lee’s cock gives another weak twitch against his thigh.

George stands there, trousers worked down around his hips and his cock still half hard even though he's just come. Lee looks fucking beautiful, debauched and freshly fucked, spit and tears and come. It's perfect.

"Do you feel as gorgeous as you like?" he asks, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Lee laughs at that, low and breathless and happy. If he looks as gorgeous as he feels, it would explain the expression on George’s face. He feels bashful all of a sudden, which is stupid, and he turns his head to wipe his chin again the vivid blue of the healed tattoo on his shoulder.

Maybe it’s because he can’t really turn it into a joke, because he can’t say much more than a word or two. Eventually he just nods and turns his face back to stare at George in open awe.

"Can I take a picture?" he asks. He's fully prepared for Lee to say no; he's in a vulnerable position and, more usually, it's Lee taking pictures of George and not the other way around. He gives Lee a moment to think about it as he bends to remove his boots.

The question throws him a little, but he’s not put off by it. That would be pretty hypocritical of him.

He’s not sure that he’d want to look at the picture, but he trusts George to have it. He knows that he wouldn’t show it to anyone, or use it against him.

“Okay,” he says after a moment’s thought, shifting a little more into the middle of the bed and nodding, purple curls splayed out on the pillow around him. “But don’t show me right now. Please.”

He feels like it would take him out of his head too much to see what he looks like right now, but George can have whatever he wants.

"Okay," echoes George, moving to grab his phone and framing a picture of Lee sprawled on his back with legs spread and arms over his head, the black rubber if the gag lurid and dark between flushed lips. He looks gorgeous. George drops his phone on the bed and leans over him, pressing a kiss the soft muscle of Lee's belly. "Now what am I going to do with you?"

Lee is aware of him taking pictures and he isn’t concerned about it, but it’s still something of a relief when George climbs onto the bed. His pants are open, obscenely tight around his thighs with his wet cock hanging out, and Lee whines.

“Whatever you want,” Lee gets out, lifting his hand to reach down and wipe his hand on the cut of his own thigh, since George seemed to want to see come on his skin so badly. “Anything.”

"I do like this," says George, pausing to kick out of his trousers, leaving himself naked too. He reaches up to brush his fingers against the leather strap cutting across Lee's cheek. "It looks obscene."

George hasn’t given Lee any instructions, so he gives into instinct and curls his hands over George’s ribs, sliding them around to the small of his back.

Lee flushes as George touches the gag, staring up at him and lifting his head a little before letting it drop to the pillow, brows furrowing into a slight pout.

“Can’t kiss,” he says as he drags his nails lightly down George’s back.

"That's true," says George, shivering pleasantly at the scratch of Lee's nails against his skin. "But it won't hurt you to be a little patient on that score."

He bends his head, kissing and sucking at the side of Lee's neck. "You're too coherent. I haven't done enough by far."

That mollifies him enough that his expression melts into something softer. Lee doesn’t want this to end right when the sex is over, and he doesn’t think it will. This whole thing came about while watching George with his horse after the work was done. He wants to be taken care of, and that includes being kissed.

He groans around the bit and laughs dazedly, shaking his head and tipping it back to offer up more of his neck. He hopes that George knows how big that is for him now. It’s such a sign of trust.

“‘M not,” he drawls, hooking his knees over George’s hips.

"If you've still got a though in your head, you are," says George, still kissing down Lee's neck. When he tips his head back, he takes the opportunity to bite him, relatively gently but right over his pulse. At the same time, he rolls his hips down.

If Lee did have any thoughts in his head, they’re all chased away by George’s teeth. The bite, even though it’s not that hard, makes Lee whimper.

But then George brings their hips together, grinding against his sensitive cock, and he cries out sharply. His hands slide down to George’s ass, gripping hard as he holds his knees high and arches his spine.

He keeps that up for a few long minutes, licking and sucking, biting at Lee's neck, rolling his hips, rutting against him almost lazily. It feels incredibly good -- Lee's body beneath him, cradling him, Lee's hands on his arse, keeping him close.

He lifts his head, pressing a kiss to the point of Lee's chin.

George seems to be in no rush, and Lee relishes in it. Every touch of George’s mouth to his neck makes him sink deeper into a calm, warm haze, and he whimpers as George rocks against him. Soon enough they’re hard all over again, cocks trapped between their wet bellies, and Lee curls his toes.

His eyes are closed until George kisses his chin and then he blinks them open again, lashes clumped with moisture as they flutter. His gaze lands on George’s face and he lets out a soft whine around the gag, lifting his head to smudge his parted lips uselessly against George’s jaw.

It's lovely, how desperate it is, the way Lee smudges his lips against him. George makes a soft sound and shifts his hips again, propping his weight up on his hands so that he can look down at Lee.

"Didn't I tell you to be patient, sweetheart?"

George pulls back a little and Lee stills at the gentle reprimand, suddenly understanding that he’s not meant to try and use his mouth at all. Lee blinks and then nods, letting his head fall back to the bed as he stares up at George. His hair spills across his forehead, lips red and swollen and eyes bright. He’s so beautiful that it almost hurts to look at him.

He works his tongue under the bit to lick spit from the corner of his mouth, swallowing hard and then letting out a shaky breath. His thighs spill open, knees falling to the sides as he finally rests his heels against the bed, hands still firm on George’s lower back. There’s a strong urge to pull him down and rock up against him, but that isn’t very patient, is it?

Instead he stays still and lets George look down at the mess of him, all teary eyed and flushed with his lips stretched around the gag. There’s a flicker of embarrassment, but it disappears just as quick as it comes.

If anyone can see him like this, it’s George.