(no subject)

[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.

Comments

[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.