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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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."

“Yeah? You like being spanked?” Lee asks, more out of curiosity than to feed into the dirty talk. He bites at curve of George’s ass cheek, hard enough to leave a faint indent of his teeth behind, then rises to his feet.

He curls one arm around George’s shoulders from behind and sucks two fingers from his other hand into his mouth, wetting them and then releasing them with a pop.

“Tell me what filthy things you like,” Lee says into George’s ear, pulling his shoulders back against Lee’s chest as he reaches down between them to touch his middle finger to George’s hole, circling once before pressing it inside, slow and insistent.

"Depends who's doing it," he says, his tone conversational, if breathy as Lee handles him in the posessive way that he's getting used to. The bite to the muscle of his arse stings, and something in him throbs in answer. When Lee slicks his fingers in spit, starts to push one into him, George can't help but think about his first time with James.

"Filthy things," he echoes, leaning back against Lee's chest. "Let's see. I...Fucking. Being fucked. Any position. A cock in my mouth, obviously. Honestly, sucking anything I'm given to suck. Watching. Being watched." He makes a short sound, almost a moan, as Lee's finger works deeper. "And, yes. Some pain. When it's sweet."

“Obviously,” Lee echoes warmly, keeping one arm around George’s chest while working a finger in and out of him. He talks more than Lee anticipated, but it doesn’t mind it. He likes George’s accent, likes the low timbre of his voice. He likes that George doesn’t seem at all ashamed of what they’re doing. It makes Lee more confident, too.

When he’s done talking, Lee lifts his hand from George’s chest and presses two fingers into his mouth, thumb rubbing at his full bottom lip.

“When it’s sweet,” he says in a low growl, humming deep in his throat as he kisses the side of George’s neck. He can hear George’s pulse racing, can practically feel it like a bass line in his chest, and Lee swallows back a wave of hunger. It’s not hard to keep it at bay with so much else to focus on, and George is much too enjoyable for Lee to ruin.

“I can be sweet to you,” Lee murmurs, kissing the juncture of George’s neck and shoulder. He opens his mouth around the spot and bites, hard enough to bruise but not break skin. He sucks at the spot, leaving his mark on that perfect pale flesh, and presses in a second finger into George’s ass in search of his prostate. “And I can make it hurt.”

His mouth isn't full, not by any means, but he feels possessed, in that moment, with Lee's fingers against his tongue, Lee's fingers pressed into his arse. Lee's mark is going to leave a mark, and George finds that he doesn't mind the thought of it, of wearing that for a few days.

He mumbles something around Lee's fingers before he falls back to sucking them. A single syllable ethat might well be please.

George is something of a marvel. Lee likes sex, particularly as a way to dull the roar in his mind, but George makes him feel like he’s going a little mad with lust. George wants it so badly and he isn’t afraid to display that desire openly, to give into his pleasure and desire freely. It’s stunning to watch.

He hooks his chin over George’s shoulder, sliding his fingers out of his mouth to roughly grab his chin instead, turning his head so that Lee can lick into his mouth, nipping sharply at his obscene lower lip. Lee’s cock is hard in his jeans and he knows it would be so easy to fuck George right here, bent over his sofa, but he forces himself to take a breath.

“C’mon,” he says as he pulls away, stepping away from George entirely and then grabbing his shoulders to angle him toward the bedroom. He nudges George along and removes the rest of his own clothing on the way, leaving them both naked. “Hands and knees on the bed, handsome.”

Growing up the way he had -- fostered, of course -- and then France and living at court -- has made George immune to any kind of shame that might be found in nudity. Stripped of his clothes, he walks ahead of Lee, into the bedroom and, without hesitation, climbs up onto the bed, arranging himself on his hands and knees. He's aware of the picture he must paint -- the curve of his arse, cock and balls hanging heavy between spready thighs.

He glances back over his shoulder.

"Like this?"

“Jesus,” Lee breathes out, reaching down to give the base of his cock and squeeze, one slow stroke as if reassuring himself. George looks like something out of the kind of expensive porn usually out of Lee’s reach. He looks fucking unreal, skin pale and unmarred aside from a scattering of beauty marks, and a part of Lee wants so badly to bite and scratch and leave his mark.

“Yeah, like that,” he says in a low voice, approaching the bed and leaning over to grab a tube of lubricant from his nightstand. It was expensive as hell but far better than the cheap motel lotion he’s used to.

He steps up behind George and leans forward to grip the fronts of his thighs to give him a hard tug back to the edge of the mattress. Lee is stronger than the average human, despite his wiry frame, and he takes a certain pleasure in showing it off.

“I sort of want to make this ass all pink before I fuck you,” Lee murmurs, gripping hard at George’s ass cheeks and then giving one a firm slap. It leaves a pretty pink imprint of his hand behind, etched into that perfect pale skin, and some part of Lee lights up, satisfied. “So that you’ll feel it when you sit down, and think of me.”

It's not the first time that George has been manhandled, but it's not so common that it doesn't send a thrill through him, his cock throbbing in answer as Lee's fingers dig into the muscle of his thighs, rearranging him. The slap makes his hips jerk, and he looks back over his shoulder, grinning.

"Do it," he says. "I can take it."

“Of that I have no doubt,” Lee says in a low voice, smirking to himself as he slicks two fingers with lube. He presses them to George’s hole, massaging in tight, teasing little circles, and tips his head curiously. “But is that what you want?”

It’s probably a little ironic, him double checking consent. He does murder people, after all, and obviously none of those people gave their explicit permission.

But this is different in a lot of ways. Lee can tell that George is having a good time, that he enjoys sex like he enjoys breathing, but Lee wants him to have the best possible time. He doesn’t want to be a mistake that yet another person regrets making.

He sees Lee pick up the tube but he doesn't see what he does with it, so the smoothness of the glide of Lee's fingers into him is a shock and, for a moment, George can't answer the question that he's being asked. He just lets his head drop, rocking back on his knees, trying to get Lee's fingers back inside him.

"Yes," he says, finally, nodding his head, dark hair slipping into his eyes. "Yes. I want it."

“Easy, tiger,” Lee teases warmly, grinning as George moves his body with such an unashamed neediness. It’s stunning to watch and Lee knows that he’s nobody special, not to George or in general, but it’s nice to be so desired, if only momentarily.

“I’ve got you,” Lee murmurs, putting one hand low on George’s back while pressing two slick fingers into him, unable to help giving him what he wants so badly. They sink in without resistance and Lee groans, tipping his head back and breathing through the urge to cut all the teasing and replace his fingers with his cock.

He swallows hard and lifts his head, watching his fingers pump in and out of George’s body a few times. He pushes them in deep, searching out his prostate, and presses at it while bringing his other hand down in a hard slap on George’s ass, pleasure and pain all at once.

Tiger. It's another one of those references that George only partially understands. There are, he thinks, tigers in India -- he's seen drawings, but he doesn't entirely know what Lee means. Still, it doesn't matter and it's easy to let it go. Lee presses two fingers into his arse and, probably, he should be embarrassed by how easily it happens, but it feels so good, and then Lee slaps him, hard, and his mind goes completely, blessedly white.

He moans, raggedly; he can't actually find the words to ask for more.

It’s stunning to watch, honestly. Lee forgets about his own cock, hard and leaking and trapped in his jeans, because he’s enjoying watching George so much. The noises that he makes are almost primal, like they’re being ripped from deep inside of him, and Lee finds it immensely satisfying.

He slaps George’s ass again, this time on his other cheek, and then another at the crease of his thigh. His skin turns pink in the shape of Lee’s hand and Lee bends down to open his mouth over one of the marks, biting hard enough to bruise without breaking skin.

At the same time, he massages insistently at George’s prostate, pressing in hard as he drags his tongue over the bite mark to soothe the sting.

“Mm, I bet you could come like this,” Lee muses, watching as George’s body seizes up with a shudder when Lee starts to finger him a little more purposefully, pressing hard against his prostate with each thrust. “Without me even touching your cock.”

The combination of the slaps and the bite draw a sound that only could be described as a grunt out of him, the sound low and guttural, his hips jerking and squirming with the impact, the feel of Lee's teeth. The combination of the pain and the press and stroke of Lee's fingers inside him is maddening, and he groans softly, swaying forward on his hands until his forehead touches the sheets.

"It's definitely possible," he says, shifting his knees a little bit further apart, framing himself a little better for Lee's benefit.

Lee sort of zones out, focusing on his fingers sinking into George’s ass over and over again. The human body is a fascinating thing and George’s is especially entrancing. Lee watches as his muscles shift under pale skin, how his body tenses at each surge of pleasure. Lee’s mouth waters because he knows that George would taste exquisite, especially now with all the arousal and adrenaline flowing though his veins.

George doesn’t even know how much danger he’s in, but there’s no reason for him to worry. Lee will satisfy his hunger in other ways.

Once George is practically keening, cock hanging heavy and leaking on the sheets, Lee gives his reddened ass a final slap and then pulls his fingers free, hands sliding soothingly over George’s hips.

“Do you care if I don’t use a condom?” Lee asks in a low voice. He has some in his nightstand because some people are adamant, but Lee doesn’t see any reason to use them with men. George is perfectly healthy— that much Lee can tell just using his nose.

“Do you even know what a condom is?” He asks with a laugh, breaking contact with George as he takes off his pants, letting his eager cock spring free.

George shakes his head, his cheek rubbing against the sheets. He shifts so that he can look back, biting his lip as Lee frees his cock.

"No," he says, breathless, feeling achingly empty without Lee's fingers pressed into his arse. He whines. "No, I don't know what that is, and I don't care if you you use one. I just want you to fuck me. Please."

That’s a dangerous mindset in this day and age, but Lee can worry about that later. Right now, he bends over George and flips him over onto his back, gripping the back of his knees to tug his ass to the edge of the bed.

Usually he fucks guys from behind, but he finds that he wants to see George’s face. He doesn’t want to feel like this is something shameful. Honestly, he’s grateful to George for this experience. He’s not going to tell him that or anything, but he’ll fuck his brains out and hope that will be enough.

“You’re very hot when you beg,” Lee tells him, winking as he pours some more lube in his hand and slicks up his cock, positioning himself between George’s pale thighs. He leans over and plants one hand on the bed next to George’s shoulder while lining up his cock with the other, nudging the head teasingly at George’s slick hole.

He pushes the head in and pulls it free, smiling down at George’s face. He lets George think he’s setting him up for more teasing and then suddenly drives his hips forward instead, sinking into George with one smooth thrust.

“And you should be rewarded for that,” Lee grits out, grunting softly as his hips grind forward against George’s ass. He’s tight and molten hot, squeezing around Lee in a way that makes him feel lightheaded with pleasure. “Fuck, you feel good.”

Another man might have felt exposed or emasculated by the change of position, but George knows that he looks good like this and, more than that, he doesn't have a clear thought in his head other than the need to be filled, fucked.

He hooks his fingers behind his knees, keeping them up and back, keeping himself spread as Lee positions himself, and then he's pushing into George in one long thrust and George's back is aching, his head ripping back against the pillow in a loud, long moment. He grips Lee's bicep with one hand, the other still hooked in place behind his knees, his body starting to move instinctively as he's fucked.

Lee isn't sure that he's ever been with anyone who so obviously loves to be fucked. Lee sinks into him and George lets out the most satisfied groan, back arching up in an obscene sort of arch, and Lee huffs out a breath as pleasure zips down his spine like an electric shock.

He pulls nearly all of the way out and then rocks forward again, starting off slow, and moves George's arm out from under his leg so Lee can replace it, hooking his elbow under George's knee while pressing his other hand into the mattress near his head.

It gives him leverage to thrust a little harder, tilting his hips and watching George's face as he seeks out just the right angle.

Lee moves his arm and George drapes it over his head, fingers curled loosely against the sheets as Lee shifts, finds a rhythm, starts to fuck him in earnest. He bites his lip, his eyelashes fluttering as Lee's cock hits him in just the right spot, shifting him against the mattress, his cock bobbing against his belly with every thrust. He opens his eyes, finding Lee's, holding that eye contact as he shifts the hand that had been gripping Lee's bicep to wrap it around his cock instead. He doesn't stroke yet, just squeezes. He doesn't want to cut everything too short.

George grabs at his cock and Lee chuckles, shaking his head and reaching down to grip his wrist and pull it away. He brings George’s hand up to kiss at his palm, biting at the meat of it.

“Not yet,” Lee tells him, grunting as he bends down and fucks him harder, hips snapping forward as he catches George’s mouth in a hungry kiss.

He'd half expected it, and he finds himself laughing as Lee takes his hand away, a soft sound that dissolves into a moan at the kiss, the edges of Lee's teeth.

"Yes, Sir," says George, the animalistic sound that Lee makes throbbing through him, his hand cupping Lee's jaw as they kiss.

Lee laughs breathlessly at being called sir, shaking his head and pressing George’s hand into the bed above his head as they kiss. It’s hungry and messy, and Lee has to fight against the urge to bite down and taste.

He buries his face in George’s neck, biting at the juncture of his neck and shoulder just hard enough that it might bruise, then pulls his mouth away so he can look down at George’s face, hips snapping forward again and again.

“I bet I could make you come just like this,” he pants out with a wild grin, driving his cock hard against George’s prostate. “If I really wanted to.”

Pinned, George presses up into the kiss, rolling his hips down onto the press of Lee's cock inside him. He groans softly into the kiss and, when it breaks, his lips are slick and swollen. He grins, squirming as he's all but impaled, as Lee fucks him like he really means it. "If you really wanted to," he says. "I'm sure you could."

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