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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“God, you’re beautiful,” Lee says before he can help it, because maybe he is cock struck. Maybe this is just what it feels like to be in love without a dark cloud of guilt hanging over it. Maybe, in this moment, he’s just happy.

“Yes, sir,” he says with a dutiful nod, lifting both arms up over his head and crossing his wrists above the pillow, fingertips curling under the headboard. George teases him, just barely touching him, and Lee has to bite back a whine.

"You don't look so bad yourself," he says, loosely curling his fingers around Lee's cock and starting to stroke, his eyes on Lee's face. He bends his head to graze a lighter, softer kiss against his mouth. "I could do this to you all day, I swear."

Normally, Lee might make a joke out of a comment like that. Right now, he’s too dazed, too pleased, so he just smiles up at George. His touch becomes more purposeful, grip tightening around his cock, and Lee moans softly and squeezes at the headboard, unable to rock up into it due to George’s weight on him.

“Is that the plan?” Lee asks huskily, smiling into the kiss.

"Maybe," says George, not rushing the movement of his hand, enjoying the soft sound that Lee makes, the way his hands tense on the headboard. "Depends how long this takes. I might need a nap in there, too."

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” he says with a fond laugh that turns into a groan. The pressure of George’s hand feels amazing, but it’s not quite enough to bring him over the edge, and George knows that.

He knows so much about Lee, more than any other person ever has or ever well.

"You can take it," says George, swiping his thumb over the slick head of Lee's cock, circling, teasing. He takes his hand away then, so that he can swipe a slick smear across Lee's bottom lip before he goes right back to stroking his cock. "I know you can. And you want to, too."

“I can take it,” Lee agrees, brow furrowing as George takes his hand away. But it’s only so he can paint Lee’s lip with his own pre-come, and his tongue shamelessly darts out to taste it.

And then George’s hand is back, returning to that same rhythm, with a grip that’s just slightly too loose. It’s maddening. He loves it and it’s frustrating all at the same time.

“Are you going to fuck me again?” Lee asks, trying to look enticing as possible. “I’ll be good.”

"Maybe eventually," says George, and Lee does look incredibly enticing, sprawled there in rumpled sheets, his hair dark against the pillow, his pale skin, the flush on his cheeks and down to his chest. "But first, I want to see you smeared in come. Mine. Yours." He grins. "It'll be delicious."

Lee makes a sound like a growl and pouts at the same time, clutching so hard at the headboard that the muscles in his arms and shoulders stand out. The more he whines and complains, the longer that George will draw this out, so he forces himself to take a steadying breath, toes curling.

“Is this how you intend to get me off?” Lee asks in a breathless voice, trying and failing to rock his hips up. He could buck George off if he really wanted to, probably. But he doesn’t want to, not at all. “Might take a while.”

"I've got time," says George, and he's definitely admiring the muscles of Lee's arms and shoulders, the beautiful line of his neck and the squirm of his hips. George shifts his weight, still stroking Lee's cock as slowly as he can bring himself to. He's hard, but he doesn't feel any partciular sense of urgency -- he loves being with Lee like this. "You're not nearly flustered enough."

Lee grunts and closes his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He focuses on the light grasp of George’s fist, huffing as he rocks his hips as best he can with George’s weight on them.

“You know how I feel about begging,” Lee tells him, but he’s mostly teasing. He doesn’t want to be made to beg, but he usually ends up doing it anyway.

“How are you gonna come?” He asks suddenly, opening his eyes as he decides to try a different tactic. His tongue traces his own lips and then he lets his mouth fall open for a moment, soft and enticing. “You could fuck my mouth.”

"I'm not asking you to beg," says George, a little smug. "I'm making you wait. It's not the same thing." He does stare when Lee opens his mouth like that, though. "You know, that's not a bad thought."

“It’s not?” Lee asks after some of his insecurity cuts through the haze of lust, sounding almost hopeful. Since everything happened, their sex has been mostly needy, with George on top fucking him like their lives depend on it, and Lee is happy with that. It feels like what he needs.

They’ve kissed, obviously. They’ve done a whole lot of kissing, but Lee has mostly kept his mouth to himself. George came back to him, and everything is going to be okay, but Lee still finds himself nervous, thinking about what George had said about having parts of him in Lee’s mouth. Near his teeth.

“I want it,” Lee says in a more serious tone, eyes shining as he grips hard at the headboard. “If you want it.”

It's not, at it's core, that he doesn't trust Lee. He does. Absolutely. He knows that Lee would rather die then hurt him. The guilt of what he'd said still lingers, cold and greasy, especially when he can see the stain of it in Lee's eyes.

Very deliberately, he reaches out and smudges his thumb along Lee's mouth, hooks it into the corner and tugs lightly.

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been thinking about it," he says.

“Thinking about how you want it or how you don’t?” Lee asks curiously, unsure of how to take that answer. His cheeks flush a little and he stares up at George, feeling almost relieved at the slight tug to the corner of his mouth.

It wouldn’t be absurd if George were a bit wary of putting vital parts of himself between Lee’s teeth, given what he knows, but Lee doesn’t want it to be true.

Keeping his gaze on George’s face, Lee presses a soft kiss to the pad of his thumb, then very gently takes the tip of it between his teeth, holding it there for a moment before drawing it deeper into his mouth to suck on it, slow and careful.

George's eyes widen, every so slightly, at the wet heat of Lee's mouth around his thumb. That, on its own, should probably be enough to answer Lee's question. He stares at him for a long moment. "Thinking about how it feels to slide my cock into your mouth and feel you gag on it." He swallows. "I miss it."

The look on George’s face relaxes Lee almost instantly, because the lust in his gaze is unmistakable. He’s not afraid of Lee, and that makes him so relieved that his eyes gloss over as he sucks on George’s thumb more eagerly, tonguing at the webbing at the base before letting it fall from his mouth.

“Then do it, please,” Lee gasps out, suddenly wanting nothing more than to have George slide his cock into Lee’s mouth without any hesitation, eager and trusting. “I want to make you feel good. I’ll be so good.”

I won’t hurt you, not ever. He manages to bite the words back but he’s sure they’re evident in his expression. “I’ll be good, George.”

"You're always good," says George, because he knows how much Lee needs to hear it. He doesn't think he'll ever tire if saying it. He shifts, lifting his weight off Lee's thighs and shifting up the bed.

"Like that?" he asks, "Or do you want to move?"

“You know that’s not true,” Lee says quietly, but he doesn’t argue further. He knows what George means. Lee tries his best, except for when he can’t. And that will have to be enough.

George rises up onto his knees and Lee shifts a bit, propping his head up on the pillows and lifting his hands from under the headboard to let them hover over George’s hips.

“This is good. I want you to take what you want,” he says in a low voice, licking his lips and looking up at George’s face hopefully. “Can I touch you while you do it?”

"It's true here," says George, because that's what he'd meant, really. He takes his cock in hand, stroking it slowly, the head slick enough to glisten in the low light. He leans in, catching his weight on the headboard one one hand and smudging the head of his cock across Lee's lips. "Yes. You can touch me. Open your mouth."

The clarification makes him smile softly and he nods to concede the point. It’s true here, and that’s enough.

His eyes only leave George’s face when he starts to stroke himself, drawing Lee’s attention to his flushed cock and the rosy head peeking out of the taut foreskin. Lee’s mouth waters, eyes darkening with desire.

A soft, relieved breath spills out as he opens his mouth obediently, sticking his tongue out as his hands fall gratefully to George’s hips, holding on but not pulling.

George doesn't tease, this time -- he rocks his his forward, steadying his cock with his hand, and slides into Lee's mouth, letting the weight of his cock rest against Lee's tongue for a moment before he starts to move. He presses his cock deep into Lee's mouth with one thrust, groaning softly. "Fuck, you feel good."

Lee lets out a soft whimper as George’s cock slides across his tongue, feeling warmth bloom all throughout his chest and belly because there is no hesitation, not even the faintest worry in George’s eyes. He looks like he trusts Lee implicitly, and that makes him so happy that he could cry.

Could, but doesn’t. Instead he pours all his gratitude and affection into the task at hand, curling his tongue against the underside of George’s cock and being sure to cover his teeth, lips tightening around his thick girth as he rocks his chin a little, meeting each slow thrust into his mouth with exuberant enthusiasm.

The praise makes him whimper with his mouth full, eyes wide and dark as he presses his fingertips into George’s hips, sliding his hands until he can take George’s perfect ass in his palms. Not once does he ever take his eyes off of George’s face.

He gives Lee a moment to adjust and then he starts to fuck his face in earnest, thrusting into his mouth as deeply as he can without triggering his gag reflex, knowing it's not sensitive than his own.

"That's good," he says, rolling his hips. "That's so good."

George doesn’t go easy on him, and Lee appreciates that. He rolls his hips in such a way that Lee can’t do much but lie back and take it, pulsing his tongue against the vein on the underside of his cock each time it slides in deep.

He closes his eyes for a moment just to revel in the feeling, and they’re determined when he opens them again. His fingers dig into George’s hips, tugging him in further. The blunt head of his cock hits the back of Lee’s throat and he gags a little, then knits his brow and swallows again, forehead smoothing out as George sinks into the tight clutch of his throat.

Every single one of his senses is overcome with George and he stares up at him with wet eyes, grunting as he shifts one hand until he can slide two fingertips between George’s ass cheeks, pressing in firmly against that tight curl of muscle while swallowing around him.