atehimrightup | for george

for george

After spending some time in the club, Lee ducks outside for some air. It isn't exactly fresh, smelling like old beer and stale piss, but there's a light breeze and outside he can at least smoke a cigarette.

He leans against the chipped red brick, the sole of one tattered Converse shoe pressed against it as he tips his head back. The ends of his hair are currently dark violet, and the longer curls stick to his pale, sweaty neck as his cheeks hollow around the filter of the cigarette.

From this vantage point, he can still feel the bass from inside thumping in his chest, sending a pleasant tingle throughout his entire body, and he takes a deep breath as his eyes fall shut, cigarette dangling from his hand as he lingers in the peaceful moment.

It's easier to feel less alone out here, away from all the people that he has no idea how to relate to.

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He could, he knows, stop this -- remove Lee's hands, return to some semblance of moral behaviour -- but the fact remains that he just doesn't want to. He wants to be handled like this. To be debased.

When Lee kisses him, he matches the other man's fervour, one arm curling around his neck to keep him close.

Lee likes it when it’s easy. He doesn’t know a thing about his man other than he has an old’s man name and gives spectacular head. They aren’t here for each other’s minds, anyway. Their bodies can do all the talking, and Lee can have a break from his goddamn head for a bit.

Lee breaks the kiss to mouth along George’s jaw and to the side of his neck, biting down just hard enough to sting. George smells amazing, sweet and earthy, and Lee knows his skin would give like a peach’s if he bit down hard enough. But he won’t. The hunger is there but it’s always there, and he’s easily distracted by his arousal.

All he wants to do is eat and fuck. He really is an animal.

“Okay, okay,” he breathes out, pressing his hands against the truck door on either side of George so he can push himself away. “Jesus, you’re like catnip. Come on.”

Lee enters the lobby and bypasses the elevator to take the stairs instead, gesturing for George to follow him. “It’s just one flight up and that thing is slow as fuck.”

George has ridden in the elevator at his own building exactly once. He'd found the experience, frankly, terrifying and avoided it every since. He willingly follows Lee up the stairs, his fingers teasing against the sore spot on the side of his neck where Lee's mouth has surely left a mark.

Once they’re out of the stairwell, Lee takes off down the hall at an eager jog, tossing a promising grin over his shoulder at George as he does. His gaze dips to the prominent bulge at the front of George’s pants and he lets out a delighted laugh, tossing his head back in amusement as he approaches his door.

He gets his keys out of his pocket and hurriedly unlocks the door, stumbling inside and tossing his keys toward the end table next to the sofa, dragging his hands through his hair. “Fucking finally.”

George doesn't run but he does follow like a thing leashed, a hound, perhaps, or a horse. He doesn't feel like an entirely thinking thing right then, not with so much heat so close to his skin.

"Finally," he echoes, leaning back against the closed door. "And I am at your mercy."

Lee turns to grin at that, wide and a little wicked, eyes dark as he strides forward and pushes his palms against George’s shoulders, shoving him hard against the door.

“You won’t regret it,” Lee promises. The same can’t be said for other men who follow Lee into dark, quiet places, but George is safe from the worst parts of him. He hasn’t done anything to invoke Lee’s ire, and how could he deprive the world of something so beautiful?

Lee kisses him again, biting at his bottom lip and licking into his mouth as he gathers the hem of George’s shirt in his hands. He drags the garment up and only pulls away from the heated kiss long enough to pull it up over his head and toss it aside.

George lets it happen - he kisses back hungrily as Lee strips his shirt off him, his own fingers curling in Lee's hem and starting to tug upwards.

His hips rock forward, grinding against Lee. He's still just as hard as he was in the alley.

Lee pulls his shirt off and then grabs George's face to kiss him again, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to tug him away from the door. His other hand dips between them to tug open the front of George's pants, pushing them impatiently down his hips. He drops both hands to grab at his ass, squeezing as he pulls back with a grin.

"That face and this ass?" Lee asks with a chuckle, pushing George against the back of the sofa in the middle of the living room. "God really gave with both hands when he made you, huh?"

It isn't flattery, not really. It's just the truth, and it's obvious that George is well aware of what he looks like.

So my mother has always told me, he thinks, but he shoves the thought of her away from him even as he pulls Lee in closer, his trousers riding dangerously low, his cock still aching hard and and ready to spring free.

He makes a muffled sound, leaning in to kiss Lee deeper.

It's hot how much George wants him. Well, Lee knows that it's not him specifically. It's what he can offer in this moment, but that's good too. It's nice to be needed, if only temporarily.

"I've got you," Lee assures him in a low, almost commanding voice, kissing George again as he pushes his pants down, urging George to step out of them. Lee looks down at George's cock, angry red and leaking, and bites lightly at George's chin before sinking to his knees.

He reaches up to grab George by the hips, meeting his eyes as he leans forward enough to drag his tongue over the head of George's cock with one slow, long lick. The thing is, Lee knows what he looks like, too.

George has every reason to be proud of his cock, and he doesn't feel even the slightest touch of embarrassment as Lee strips him and sinks down to his knees. The heat of Lee's tongue verges on painful and George hears himself make a small, strangled sound.

He's not sure how much longer he can wait to come.

"I was going to make you wait longer," Lee says idly, smirking up at George as he reaches out to lightly curl his fingers around George's cock, tugging back the foreskin with his thumb. "But I think you might actually explode."

Even though he's on his knees, Lee feels powerful. He's reduced this man to near tears with just the promise of his touch. He loves it.

"You've gone nonverbal on me," he says, reaching up with his other hand to lightly smack the fleshy part of George's hip. "Ask me nicely and maybe I'll change my mind."

George thinks he might actually explode too, all truth told. He swallows, his back watching slightly as Lee handles his cock. He's used to this part though -- to speaking sweetly, to telling another man what he wants to hear.

"Please," he says, his voice pitched soft. "Let me come. I'll do anything you want afterwards." A smirk twitches the corner of his mouth. "Any filthy, depraved thing."

“How could I say no to that?” Lee replies with a smirk of his own, winking up at George before opening his mouth wide. George’s cock is hot and thick against his tongue, swollen with blood, and Lee lets out a shuddering breath as his eyes fall closed. He can feel George’s pulse in his mouth, taste the salty bitterness of him, and Lee lets out a quiet growl.

He breathes through his nose and opens his eyes again, grabbing George by the hips as he starts to bob up and down. He’s good at this, he knows, but he’s pretty sure a stiff breeze could get George off right now.

He's not going to last, and he knows it the moment that Lee's mouth slides, hot and wet, around his cock. He rocks his hips, Lee takes him by the hips and George receives that as permission to move, rocking his hips forward, fucking into Lee's welcoming mouth.

He drags in a shivering breath, his head tipping back.

"Oh, fuck."

It’s been awhile since Lee has done this. He likes being the one on top, or the one with a head in his hands. He likes clinging to that little bit of control while it feels like his world is constantly burning down around him.

But he has to admit, this is kind of nice. George fucks his mouth and Lee feels like he can turn his brain off for a second, letting himself get lost in the haze of what it feels like to be needed. Even if it’s just for a night. Even if it’s just for this.

George curses and Lee greedily takes more of his cock, choking mildly around the head and reaching down to cup George’s balls, rolling them in his palm and pressing his fingertips to the soft spot just behind them.

He's going to come -- he feels it coming for him like a landslide. He remembers the choice that Lee had given him, back in the alleyway and he thinks about somethign similar, but that also doesn't feel like the game they're playing here, the bargain that they've made.

He twists his fingers in Lee's hair, a warning, the shift of his hips slowing over so slightly.

George’s thrusts stutter and he pulls at Lee’s hair, warning him, but Lee grabs at George’s hips before he can pull away. He lets out a needy, demanding sort of grunt and shifts enough to be able to look up at George’s face, cheeks hallowing as he sucks at George’s cock.

Lee isn’t one to shy away from bodily fluids, and he finds that he wants to taste some part of this man, wants to keep a bit of him in his belly, and this is the only way he can.

He drops one hand to George’s balls, tight and as he teeters on the precipice of orgasm, and Lee gives him a challenging look as he presses his fingertips in firmly just behind him, spurring him on.

Lee not only doesn't pull away, he urges George forward and that? Is incredibly, impossibly hard to resist. George pushes his fingers into Lee's hair, palms cradling the shape of his skull for a moment as he thrusts deeper, rocking his hips between the hot wet of Lee's mouth and the insistent press of his fingers, and it only takes a few more strokes before he comes so hard that, for a moment, he can't breathe.

Bitter salt floods his tongue, far from the worst thing he’s tasted, and Lee hums his approval as he eases up on the pressure. He keeps George in his mouth, milking out every last drop, and then eventually pulls back enough to let George’s cock slip from his mouth.

He licks his swollen lips and looks up at George with a smirk that borders on smug, hands sliding up his thighs to rest on his hips. There’s a drop of come at the corner of his mouth and he waits for George to look at him before licking it away.

His cock slips out of Lee's mouth, damp with spit, not gone entirely soft despite the force of his climax. He's still breathing hard, his trousers shoved down around his thighs, naked everywhere else. He grins, the colour in his face hectic.

"You're a marvel," he says. "And I meant it -- what I said before. Every word."

Lee brightens a little at the compliment and then smiles wickedly, sucking at his swollen bottom lip. George looks boyish when he grins, eyes crinkling at the corners as he shows all his teeth, and Lee can’t help but to be a little charmed.

“So did I,” Lee assures him, winking before grabbing George hard by the hips and turning him around, keeping him steady as his feet get tangled in his pants. Lee hums his approval when George’s ass is in his face, pale and round with cheeks begging to be bitten.

Lee gives into the urge, leaning forward to take a bit of that flesh between his teeth, but he doesn’t bite down. It’s barely enough to sting, and then he lets go so he can grab George’s ass in both hands, spreading his cheeks open with his thumbs to reveal that tight curl of muscle, dusky pink and clenching greedily.

“If you meant it, then this is all mine tonight,” Lee says casually, leaning forward to lick at George’s hole. He smells good, tastes like soap and sweat, and Lee lets out a sound like a growl. “Is that right?”

For a moment, held spread and open, his weight caught on both hands on the back of the sofa, he's too distracted by the warm swipe of Lee's tongue fur to formulate an answer. This, too, is not a first time for him -- something that James has a taste for -- but it makes his cock twitch, all the same.

"That's right," he says, nodding his head.

“Good boy,” Lee replies, but there’s obvious humor in his voice. He knows that they’re just having fun.

He brings his hand down in a light slap against the fleshiest part of George’s ass, and then presses his face in between his cheeks again. He licks at George’s hole insistently, sucking at the rim and the pressing his tongue inside as much as he can. He pulls back only when he needs to breathe, chin wet with saliva.

He slaps George’s ass again, a little harder this time, and tilts his head as he watches color rise to the surface of George’s pale skin. “You get so pink. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

Not the first time George has heard that, either. He grins in response, arching his back. Lee slaps his arse, though not hard enough to mark him, and George groans softly as Lee goes back to it, lips and tongue working against him. It's easy to lose himself in it -- to let himself not think a conscious thought. To allow himself to become a thing.

The second slap is harder, pulls him back to himself a little.

"So I have been told," he says, his voice breathy. "Though, I'll admit, not in those exact words."

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