atehimrightup | (no subject)

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george

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For perhaps the first time in his life, Lee is looking forward to Christmas.

It was never really anything he paid much attention to before. If anything, all the garish decorations and twinkling lights annoyed him. Or maybe he told himself that's what it was, because seeing all the happy families and loving couples pressed in on some bruised part of his heart that ached with the desire to know what it felt like to be loved like that.

And now, by some miracle, he is.

This is the second Christmas that he's known George, but the first one doesn't really count. That was back when they were still pretending that their whole arrangement was casual, and fuckbuddies didn't really spend the holidays together. This year is different. Lee finds himself delighted to explain all the strange rituals of a modern Christmas to George, who seems fascinated and perturbed in equal measure.

They decorated a tree that Lee had determinedly gone out and chopped down, wanting to have the whole experience. The thing is kind of a mess of tinsel and twinkling lights, limbs weighed down with baubles he found at the thrift store. but it's also the best looking Christmas tree he's ever seen. Because it's theirs.

Now it's Christmas Eve and Lee has made a hearty roast for dinner, and a large batch of heavily spiked eggnog. They're curled up together on the sofa with an old Christmas movie playing on TV. George is a little tipsy, just enough for him to be loose-limbed and pink-cheeked, and Lee smiles as he presses a kiss to the crown of his head.

"So, are you ready for Santa to come down your chimney?" Lee teases, smiling at his own joke and pressing another kiss to George's hairline, one hand coming up to gently cradle his chin. “Don’t fall asleep on me just yet, sweetheart.”

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“I suppose there are some perks to being a monster,” Lee replies with a soft huff of laughter, sliding off of the sofa to get to his feet. He looks down at George with a hopelessly fond expression.

He knows what Lee is, and chose him anyway. On purpose.

“I need you to take me to bed right now,” Lee says, suddenly urgent as he reaches out for George, wanting nothing more than to have those broad shoulders on top of him, pressing him down.

"Don't call yourself that," says George, absent and fond. He stands up and pulls Lee in against him, both hands on his arse to lift him and, once he has him, sliding under his thighs to support him. It's probably not as romantic as a bridal carry, but he's more sure of not dropping him.

It’s a gentle thing, more of a reminder than an admonishment, and it sets Lee’s heart ablaze. He stares as George crowds in closer, eagerly curling his arms around George’s shoulders and lifting his knees to hook them over George’s hips. He takes George’s face in his hands and kisses him as George carries him down the hall, feeling a little like a heroine in all those classic romances he pretends he’s never read.

Just like he used to pretend that he didn’t need this, when it’s really all he’s ever wanted.

“I love you,” he whines against George’s mouth, dragging the back of his shirt up to get his hands on bare skin. “I need you to fuck me.”

"I love you too," says George, and he's not sure he's ever meant it so much in his life. He's almost fervent with it. When they get to their bedroom, he lays Lee down reverently on the mattress, pausing to peel his shirt off over his head and shuck his sweats. He needs to be naked, needs skin on skin.

While George undresses, Lee wriggles out of his own clothes and reaches for George as he climbs over him. His thighs spill open to make room for George’s hips and Lee presses up on one elbow to kiss him, free hand sinking into his hair.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” Lee murmurs, kissing his way down George’s jaw, tongue pressing in against his jugular. “You smell so happy.”

They press together everywhere they can and George groans softly, rolling his hips down against Lee's just to feel the friction. He needs to be inside him, but he also doesn't see any reason to rush. They've got all of the tie in the world.

"What does happy smell like?"

George drags their hips together and Lee moans, tipping his head back and arching up. Their cocks slide together and they both get so damn wet with each other that soon enough the hot friction is replaced with an easy glide.

“You,” Lee pants out at the question, laughing as he lifts his head and looks up at George’s face, reaching up to tangle a hand in his hair. “It’s hard to explain. Comfort and home. Like sunlight and cinnamon bread still baking in the oven.”

George rolls his hips again and Lee whimpers, heart thudding in his chest, pounding just below the scar there. “Like safety. I’m safe here.”

"Always," says George, because he doesn't know much for certain, but he does know that he'd die before he let anything happen to Lee. He grins, kissing Lee and then leaning across him, stretching so that he doesn't have to move too much to reach the lube on his nightstand. "You make me sound delicious."

“You are delicious,” Lee replies, feeling pleased that George can make such jokes around him. George trusts him, even knowing all that he does, and Lee would sooner set himself on fire than ever do anything to break that trust.

George leans over him and Lee lifts his head to kiss his chest, biting softly at his pec and licking at his nipple, tasting metal and something so uniquely him. His hands slide up George’s flanks then down to his ass, grabbing greedy handfuls.

He loves the way that Lee touches him, like he's hungry for him, every inch of him. He grins at Lee, sitting back on his knees and squirting lube on his fingers. "Roll over, love. Let me open you up." He loves looking at Lee like this, when they're both wrapped up in how much they want each other.

Lee watches as George sits up, putting his hands on his thick thighs and squeezing. He’s so fucking beautiful, every single bit of him, and Lee flushes at the warm command. Sitting up, he steals another kiss and then twists onto his belly underneath George, tucking his knees underneath him and turning his head to press his cheek into the pillow, ass tipped up with shameless eagerness.

It should feel vulnerable, being in this position. But it doesn’t. Not with George.

“Please, baby,” he murmurs, twisting to look over his shoulder. “You do it so well.”

He loves how much Lee trusts him, and how easy it is. He rubs the tips of two slick fingers against him, knowing that he'll only complain if he goes too slowly. Still, he wants to be careful so, when he starts to press two fingers into Lee's arse, he doesn't rush.

George starts with two fingers and Lee groans at the blunt pressure, the slight burn that only seems to enhance the rush of sensation. He bites his bottom lip and wills himself not to thrust back impatiently. He wants George to set the pace, so he takes a breath and nuzzles his cheek into the pillow, reaching back until he can put one hand on the outside of George’s knee where it’s pressed into the bed.

Lee groans, but George knows him well enough, knows his body well enough, to know that it isn't a bad thing. He crooks his fingers as he starts to fuck them into Lee, thursting them deep with every movement of his hand. He doesn't want to rush them, but he wants Lee to feel every single inch.

George is so thorough with him, but Lee doesn’t rush him. Honestly, he loves getting fingered. It feels like such an indulgence, because no one had ever taken the time to do it to him before. Not even himself. He had no idea how good it could be, and now he’s kind of a slut for it.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he whimpers out, biting his bottom lip as his fingers twist in the sheets, hair fanning across the pillow as he rubs his cheek into it. “You’re so good to me, baby.”

"Always," says George and means it as a promise -- more solemn than that...a vow. He means to always take care with the boy in his bed. He means to always keep him safe. He smoothes his free hand in the small of Lee's back, pressing down slightly as he starts to press a third finger into Lee's arse.

A third finger pushes into him, but there is no burn this time. It's just a slick glide, pressure that makes him moan as his cock drips onto the sheets below. George's other hand is warm and grounding at the base of his spine, and Lee feels a little as if he could melt into a puddle. He's never felt so loved in his life. "Please. I need you."

"I know, love," says George because it's jsut another thing he loves, how much Lee loves him, how unguarded he is with him. He knows that that's a hard-won reward, and he treasures it. Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of Lee's arse and straightens up onto his knees so that he can slick his cock. "On your belly," he says, bending to press a kiss to Lee's skin that turns into a light bite, barely more than a nip.

"Oh, I get to be a pillow princess?" Lee teases as he straightens out his legs in the space that George makes between his thighs, hissing and shifting his hips to press his cock comfortably in the mattress. He wants to see George's face, but he doesn't argue. The position they start in is rarely the one they seem to finish it when they get like this.

The brief press of George's teeth feels like a tease and he hums, wiggling his ass enticingly. "Harder, please."

"Something like that," says George, grinning when Lee wiggles his arse. "Oh, I've got every intention of going hard, my love. Don't worry." He shifts between Lee's spread legs and lines his cock up, before he starts to press it into Lee's arse. "I love you," he says. "I've bever loved anyone like I love you."

For some reason, Lee isn’t expecting the declaration. He could never come to expect something like that, something that makes his heart feel like it’s being set aflame every time he hears it.

George says it as he pushes into his body, making room for himself at the core of Lee, and he makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a sob as he nods feverishly, clutching at the sheets as he bares down against the thick press of George’s cock.

“I love you,” Lee gasps out, panting it over and over again as his body adjusts.

Being inside Lee always feels like the lost natural thing in the world, like it's exactly where he's supposed to be. Once he's fully seated inside Lee's body, he leans forward, pressing a kiss against the nape of his neck and then nipping at the same spot.

Lee never thought that he would feel so comfortable with someone else inside his body like this. He was so sure that he hated it, but he actually just hates it with anyone who isn’t George.

He groans as George rocks forward, blanketing Lee’s body with his broader chest and shoulders. At that sharp little bite at the back of his neck, Lee lets out a whimper that borders on pathetic and shivers all over, tucking his chin to offer up his neck for more.

He knows Lee's body as well as he knows his own, knows exactly how to touch him, how to fuck him. He'd anticipated Lee's reaction to the bite and the next one is to the same spot but harder. They belong to each other and, as he rocks, thrusting his cock into Lee over and over, that's all he wants him to remember.

In this position, pinned on his belly against the bed, there isn’t really much Lee can do other than take it. With anyone else, he’d hate this. He’d be clawing away, snarling and tearing at flesh.

But this isn’t anyone else; it’s George. And hopefully, if he doesn’t fuck this up, there won’t ever be anyone else again.

“Please,” he whimpers out when George bites him, shoving his knees into the bed and reaching back until he can grip blindly at one of George’s thick thighs. It’s overwhelming and perfect, and Lee never wants it to stop. “No one’s ever gonna have me like this again, baby. No one but you.”