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[gallowseyes]

Festivities descend upon Darrow well before George would have expected them and, while they're different from the traditions he would have expected at home, there's enough familiarity that it's hard not to get caught up in it. To enjoy it, at least. He goes about his days, sees the people he knows, exchanges messages with Elora, with Lee. Strange as the world is, now, there's still comfort in bodies, and George takes comfort where he finds it.

Which is how he finds himself making his way through a crowded bar, sweating bodies pressing in on both sides. He's dressed for it, snug jeans and a t-shirt fitted across his shoulders -- so little clothes that he might as well be naked by the standards of the world that birthed him.

When he gets to the bar, he leans both elbows on the polished wood and waits to catch the barkeep's eye.

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[gallowseyes]

It's not the first time he's been handled like this, not nearly, but that doesn't stop him being meltingly willing, receptive to every slight shift of Lee's touch. "I learned to fuck there," he says, grinning, biting his lip over it. "To fuck men, in particular. To be fucked."

[atehimrightup]

That makes Lee pause briefly, pulling his head back to look up the long, pale line of George’s flank, curling around him a little to try and catch a glimpse of his face. He sounds like he’s smiling, but Lee can’t help but to wonder.

“Was that by your own choice?” He asks casually, keeping two fingers hooked into George’s body while loosely fisting his cock. It’s rock hard and leaking, and Lee knows that George has chosen this, at least. “To be taught those things?”

[gallowseyes]

It's a serious question, though it's difficult to focus on that with Lee's hands still on him. He looks down, trying his best to still his hips for a moment while he gives it the thought that it deserves.

"Yes, I chose that," he says. "I did not, so much, choose France, but it did work out in the end, I think."

[atehimrightup]

George goes still and Lee follows after, holding his breath as he waits for an answer. The one that comes is a relief and he nods, pressing a kiss to the swell of his ass and resting his cheek there for a moment as the impending rush of hypothetical anger fades before it could even fully manifest.

The thought of someone hurting George affects him in a way that takes him by surprise. Aside from his sister and Maren, he isn’t used to feeling protective. It’s not exactly in his nature as a killer.

He swallows back a brief flare of guilt. There is so much that George doesn’t know about him. He’d be disgusted, surely, if he ever found out the truth. It’ll happen eventually, he’s sure. And George will want nothing to do with him then.

Lee stands up abruptly, pulling his hands away and tearing open his pants to take out his cock, crowding up behind George and sinking into his body with a low moan.

This wasn’t his plan, but he wants to be close because he knows, deep down, that there’s a clock on this. There’s a clock on everything that has ever made Lee the slightest bit happy, and he wants to enjoy it while it lasts.

[gallowseyes]

Lee pushes his cock into George with no warning, and George's breath catches in a harsh, long moan. God, ti feels good, to be so taken, to feel so owned. He had started thinking of whatever this is with Lee as a casual thing and, sometimes, he isn't so sure. What he is sure of is that he'd do anything, in this moment, to make it last longer. What he is sure of is that he doesn't want Lee to leave.

[atehimrightup]

George rocks back against him, searing hot and eager, and Lee curls his arm around George’s chest, holding him close as he starts to roll his hips. He presses biting kisses to the side of George’s neck, teeth scraping against his skin as his other hand falls to George’s cock, stroking in time with his deep thrusts.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs, burying his nose in the soft hair at the base of George’s skull and inhaling the sweet, earthy scent of him. “Fuck, how do you feel so good?”

[gallowseyes]

He'd prefer, he thinks, to be face to face right then, able to kiss, to moan against the slick press of Lee's tongue, but that doesn't mean that it isn't also delicious, to be fucked this way. He laughs, not mocking, a soft and warm rumble of sound, rocking his hips back.

"Practice," he says, weight caught precariously on one hand so that he can reach back and push his fingers into Lee's sweat-damp hair. "So much pracctice."

[atehimrightup]

The answer makes him laugh, a low chuckle in the back of his throat, and his eyes roll back a little as George’s fingers twist in his messy hair.

“Lucky me,” he rasps out, sliding one hand up George’s stomach and chest to curl loosely around this throat, resting there without applying pressure, guiding his head to the side so Lee can kiss along his jaw, teeth scraping against the bolt of it as he fucks George with slow, hard thrusts, grinding his hips forward each time he sinks in.

“Already had you once tonight and still couldn’t wait to get you all the way to my bedroom to get inside you again,” he drawls against George’s ear, grinning against the shell of it. “But we’re in no rush now, right?”

[gallowseyes]

As always, with Lee, that hand on his throat that should be enough to panic him somehow doesn't and he groans, softly, at the scrape of teeth against his pulse. He rocks back to meet every thrust.

"All the time in the world," he says.

[atehimrightup]

Lee has always felt a little like he’s living on borrowed time. He’s always felt a little like a mistake, like an abomination, but that feeling recedes a little when he’s with George.

That will change, he knows, if George ever finds out the whole truth about him. But for now he’s going to hold onto it for as long as he can, hanging on by the skin of his teeth.

So no, they don’t have all the time in the world, but Lee fucks him like they do, hips working like a piston until George’s thighs are trembling and Lee is licking sweat from the back of his neck.

He never gets to take his time like this, and he sort of wants to see how long he can drag it out.

[gallowseyes]

He's a wreck, every thrust shivering through him, his breath sobbing, his skin running sweat. He loves it, every moment of it, loves being so thoroughly and completely fucked. He loves feeling owned like this, for however long it lasts.

He whimpers, wordless, and he's not even sure what he wants. Something. More.

[atehimrightup]

George is a vision, shaking and whimpering, and Lee feels a little bit awed. For him, sex was always something like scratching an itch, quick and dirty before parting ways.

It’s never been like this, where he has to take deep breaths and focus to keep his orgasm at bay. For the first time, it isn’t just a race to the finish line.

“You love this,” Lee says with a bit of awe in his voice as George squirms against him like a needy animal. Lee feels a savage rush of what must be affection, because he knows that if anyone ever dared to hurt this beautiful creature, Lee would rip them to shreds.

“Not yet,” Lee says against the side of his head, panting as he reaches around to fist George’s cock. It’s molten hot and wet, and Lee cries out and bites the top of George’s shoulder hard enough to bruise as the pleasure builds and builds while he fights to keep it at bay. “Stay here with me a little longer, baby.”

[gallowseyes]

"I love this," echoes George, because he does and he always has. Lee's next instruction makes him whine in the back of his throat, but he does his best to obey, fighting to still his his, to not keeping fucking himself back onto Lee's cock, forward onto his first.

"Jesus. I...I can't...I..."

[atehimrightup]

“You’re so beautiful,” Lee breathes out, not like it’s flattery but because it’s fact. It’s like George was made for this, perfectly crafted to writhe and moan, and Lee can’t seem to get enough.

“A little more. Hold on for me,” Lee chokes out, driving his cock in deep and hard and then pulling out slowly, again and again. George is trembling all over, sweating and clenching down hard around his cock, and Lee’s vision swims. His knees feel like they’re about to give out, and when he thrusts forward again, he knows he’s done.

“Okay, okay. Come with me,” Lee gasps out, biting at the back of George’s neck and crying out as his orgasm hits. He keeps one hand on George’s hip and the other around his cock, stroking hard and fast as his vision goes white around the edges. “Let me feel it.”

[gallowseyes]

He doesn't have a conscious thought in his head, only the desperation to hold onto the last shred of his self-control by his fingernails. Because he wants to do what Lee says. He wants to wait. His breath sobs in and out of him, and he's deparate, he needs it more than anything, more than oxygen and then finally -- thank God, finally -- Lee gives the word, and they're both coming, Lee inside him and him over Lee's fingers, the fabric of the couch. He mumbles something -- whether it's a curse or Lee's name, he wouldn't be able to say.

[atehimrightup]

George makes such a mess when he comes, but he’s so, so beautiful in the way he shakes apart in Lee’s arms, body clenching down almost painfully around his spent cock. Lee holds onto him, letting go of his cock to smear his come up across his belly and chest, wet fingers curling around his throat as he pants in George’s ear.

“I love that you let me come inside of you,” Lee admits breathlessly, too swept up in the afterglow to be cagey with his feelings. He sweeps up the errant come on the back of his sofa with the side of his index finger, chuckling softly as he rubs it across George’s chest, thumbing at the tight bud of his nipple, nipping playfully at his ear lobe. “Even though you look so pretty with it all over you.”

[gallowseyes]

He doesn't say it, but he can't imagine any reason why he wouldn't let Lee come inside him, why he wouldn't want to feel that. He's always loved it, the way it makes him feel taken, makes him feel owned. "I think I've got enough of my own all over me," he says, grinning, still panting, breathless. "I'm a sticky fucking mess."

[atehimrightup]

“I like you all sticky,” Lee murmurs against his neck, dragging his tongue up under George’s ear to taste the salt on his skin. “I’d lick you clean.”

It’s a terrible thought to have, but one he cannot help: George would taste amazing.

Lust has always been a trigger for his hunger, and he knows firsthand that the more someone wants him, the better they taste. And no one has ever seemed to want him like George does.

He is forbidden fruit, but Lee is never worried about losing his control with him. It’s been such a long time since he’s done that, since he was just a kid. Even at his hungriest, he never snaps. He’s stronger than that.

Lee feels guilty around George all the time, but it’s never for putting him in danger. It’s for keeping the truth from him. It’s selfish, because George deserves so know who he’s getting tangled up with, but Lee can’t bring himself to tell him. He doesn’t want to see the disgust on George’s face. He’s too selfish to watch another person he cares about walk away from him.

Besides, it’s not like they’re married. They aren’t even a couple. In all likelihood, George will tire of him eventually, just like everyone else, and Lee will accept that gracefully once the time comes. He just wants this for as long as he can have it.