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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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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.”

"Damn right," says George, sucking on the mark that his teeth have left on Lee's skin. He never would have imagined that he could feel like, so settled and commited to one person. But he is. He is.

He shifts his mouth, sucking up a mark on Lee's bare shoulder as they fuck. "God, I love you."

The possessiveness in George’s voice makes Lee whimper, because he wants very much for George to lay a claim on him. Lee, who had always clung so hard to his freedom, wants nothing more than to belong to his amazing man.

“Fuck.” Those words and the claiming bites make Lee slam his forehead down into the pillow with a strangled cry. His shoulders shift and he pushes himself back against George’s cock, doing his best to try and twist around to look at him. “Baby, I wanna see you. I want to kiss you, please. Can I turn over?”

George thrusts into him once more, because he can't help it, and then he pulls back, slipping out of Lee's body to give him room to turn around. He sits back on his haunches, face flushed, chest heaving with laboring breath.

"C'mon," he says. "Let me see."

George slipping out of him is agony, but Lee reminds himself that it’s only temporary. He scrambles over onto his back, chest heaving as he spreads his legs shamelessly wide on either side of George’s thighs, hips tilting up in invitation as he stares up at George’s face with dark eyes.

“I’m yours. Take me,” Lee pleads, feeling almost frenzied with need, but he doesn’t try to dampen it. He knows that George likes him like this, when he’s out of his mind with lust, pink and trembling all over as his cock leaks a wet mess onto his skin.

He’s never wanted anything as much as he wants George. Not anything, not even the flesh he needs to live.

“Please have me,” he whines out, dragging his nails down George’s chest. “All I want to feel is you.”

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Almost as soon as Lee's rolled over, as soon as he's settled, George is shifting to push back into him, to the hilt in one thrust. Immediately, he finds his rhythm, hips snapping, his weight caught on his hands.

"Like this?'

“Yes,” Lee all but sobs, spine arching as he grabs at George’s thighs and digs his nails in. He can hear their harsh breathing and the obscene, wet around of their bodies meeting, but under it all he can hear the blood pumping through them both. He can hear George’s heart, the way it thuds against his rib cage, and Lee knows that he would burn this city to the ground if it kept that heart from aching.

His own heart beats and Lee reaches up to put his hand there, expression crumpling in misery when he feels his father’s bite under his fingertips, a constant reminder of how he tried to eat the heart right out of his son’s chest while it was still beating.

“I want it to be you,” he gets out nonsensically, almost frantic as he stares up at George’s face, one hand clawing at the scar hard enough to draw blood. “Will you make it yours? Please? I want it to be you. I want it to be tonight.”

He knows it’s a lot to ask and he lets out another sob as he shoves himself down onto George’s cock. “I— you don’t have to. I won’t be mad if you don't want to. But I’d— I’d hate myself if I didn’t ask.”

He's so lost in it, so wrapped up in how good it feels, how it's never felt this good before, that it takes him a moment to register the expression on his face. Words come spilling out of Lee like water, and he draws blood with his nails. George's hips still. "Don't," he says. "Don't hurt yourself." His eyebrows draw together. "You want me to...bite you?"

George goes still and Lee lets out a mournful cry, thinking for a moment that he’s ruined everything. Don’t, he says, and Lee’s lashes clump with unshed tears as he stares up at George’s face. It’s hard for Lee to read the expression on it, but he soon realizes that what he first took as disappointment may actually be confusion.

Lee flushes at the question and squirms a little, like he may try to pull away, but then goes still and huffs out a breath.

“Yes,” he admits quietly, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping the backs of George’s arms. He blinks and blows out a breath, lifting a shaky hand to George’s face. “I just— I want you to make my scars yours. But— you don’t have to. I know it’s a lot. I know I’m a lot.”

"It is a lot," says George, without hesitation, because he'll never lie to Lee. His cock is still buried deep inside Lee, but that's the last thing on his mind right now, as he studies his new husband's face. "That isn't a no, but...are my teeth even right for that? You'd have to walk me through it."

If it's something that Lee wants so badly, so nakedly, then perhaps it's the least George owes him as a wedding gift.

Lee flinches slightly at the immediate reply, then furrows his brow a little at the question. George doesn't want to do this. He would, if Lee kept pressing, but he doesn't want to. And that means Lee doesn't want it either. Not like that.

"Teeth are teeth. But it's okay. Never mind," he says thickly, swallowing hard and shaking his head a little, cheeks ruddy as he tries to wrap his arms around George's shoulders and rock up against him, trying to distract him because he wants so badly not to ruin this night. "Forget I said it. Just kiss me, okay? I just want you to kiss me."

He does kiss him, immediately, because how could he deny him? He pulls back, then, looking down at Lee's face for a long moment, something soft and deeply, deeply loving in dark eyes. "You're right, though," he says. "James' teeth left a scar on my arm, well enough." He shifts, tracing his thumb over the scar on Lee's chest. "Right there?"