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Hasan drops his head to the side and smiles over at the person sitting next to him. He’s had just the right amount to drink—not enough to be truly drunk, but enough that he can feel it coursing through his body, like fire in his veins. It makes him feel loose, happy. The beat of the song playing in the club is strong and he can feel it all through his body. He smiles slowly at the person next to him.
“Austin said we were supposed to be finding you a rebound, but you’ve barely gone out there.”
George, sitting next to him, offers a small smile in exchange, only the corners of his mouth turning up. He shakes his head.
“Austin says a lot of things.”
“That’s the fucking truth,” Hasan agrees. “Are you at least having a good time?”
“Yeah, of course,” George says. He takes a sip of his drink.
Hasan wouldn’t say he knows George well, but they’ve spent a lot of time together over the years. He’s seen George having fun and knows it doesn’t look like this. He inches closer, sliding across the booth so he can whisper in George’s ear.
“Gonna have to call bullshit on that,” he says. “In all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you this quiet even once. You’re either fucking miserable or halfway there.”
George shrugs but doesn’t deny it. “I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head. “I guess I’m just not in the clubbing mood tonight.”
Hasan glances out to the dance floor and George follows his gaze. In the middle of the room, Christian and Austin are grinding on either side of a skinny blond twink, Christian somehow having lost his shirt during the course of the evening. They watch together for a few minutes, and Hasan only barely notices when George shifts a few inches closer to him, their shoulders brushing. At the exact moment when Austin leans down to lick a bead of sweat off Christian’s nipple, Hasan slaps his legs and stands up.
“Let’s get out of here.”
George glances at him curiously but doesn’t ask any questions. He discards the warm appletini he’s been nursing for over an hour and follows Hasan out of the club.
By the time they’re to the door, Hasan has ordered an uber. He puts a hand on George’s back to guide him out of the crowd and down towards the street.
“Where are we going?” George asks once they’re standing off to the side, waiting for their ride.
“My house.”
George raises an eyebrow. “Are you like… are you trying to hook up with me?”
Hasan barks out a laugh. “No, dude. I just couldn’t stand you looking so sad in there. Plus that place fucking reeks.”
“Oh,” George says, his voice soft. For a second Hasan thinks he sounds disappointed.
“Was that what you were wanting?” Hasan asks, looking George over. He’s not leering. He’s not even thinking any particularly dirty thoughts. He’s just considering.
Sure, he’s had plenty of thoughts about George before. Especially when George was young and twiggy and equal parts shy and chaotic back in London. All qualities that sound like a good time. Hasan hasn’t thought about it in a while, though. Honestly, everyone kind of left George alone because they thought he belonged to Dream.
“No,” George says quickly. “Um… no.”
Hasan doesn’t know him well enough to be sure, but he thinks George might be lying.
He pushes the thought out of his head as the car pulls up and they both climb in. George is hot, and Hasan is pretty sure h’ed be a lot of fun, but he’s also going through a rough time. At least, that’s the story Hasan heard from Austin. Hasan doesn’t want to take advantage of George unless he’s sure George wants to be taken advantage of.
When they reach Hasan’s house, they sprawl out on the couch in the TV room, sitting side by side but not touching.
“What do you want to do?” Hasan asks George once they’re settled. He honestly hadn’t made any plans beyond getting George out of the club.
George shrugs. “Your house.” He glances over at Hasan and it’s obvious from the way his eyes linger that he actually has a really good idea of what he wants to do.
Hasan lets his gaze fall on George and travel down his body. He’s not gay and generally prefers women, but it wouldn’t be the first time he took an opportunity when he saw one. He wouldn’t mind if something happened. That’s all.
“I guess I didn’t help Austin in his grand plan for tonight,” he says, changing the subject. “He’s gonna be pissed.”
George snorts. “Austin had a plan? That’s a first.”
“He didn’t tell you?”
George shakes his head and looks at Hasan with curiosity.
Hasan laughs. “He wanted to take you out and find you someone to fuck. A rebound, I guess, since…” He pauses and trails off, not sure if he should even mention it. No one’s brought it up tonight. The reason George is in L.A. The reason Austin is convinced he needs a rebound to fuck in the first place. Hasan’s not sure he should be the first one to say it.
“Because Dream has a girlfriend and Austin thinks I’m heartbroken,” George says for him instead. He sighs and rolls his eyes.
“Yeah,” Hasan says carefully. “That was pretty much exactly why.” He pauses. “But you’re okay?”
“I’m okay,” George says. “It’s stupid. Everyone thinks I’m in some kind of deep depression, or that I’m a wreck or something. But I’m fine. It’s not like this was news for me. She’s been around for a while now.”
“But,” Hasan begins. “You and Dream… before I mean. You were…” He’s never been quite clear exactly what Dream and George’s relationship was, but it was clear for years that he belonged to Dream. There’s no way there wasn’t something going on there.
George looks at him with a flat expression. “It doesn’t matter what we were or weren’t. All of that is over. I don’t want to be someone’s pity fuck.”
Hasan shakes his head and chuckles. “I don’t think anyone would be fucking you out of pity, George.”
George seems to perk up at that. “Oh yeah,” he asks, staring at Hasan, daring him to say it. He shifts in his seat, sitting up and leaning towards Hasan just the tiniest amount. “Why would they be fucking me then?”
“I’m not playing this game with you,” Hasan says staring right back at George. “You know what you look like.” He shifts in his seat. “You know what you do to people. Dream fucking some chick hasn’t changed that.”
George watches Hasan change position. “What do I do to you?” he asks. He tilts his head, a smile bordering on evil spreading across his face.
Hasan stares at him for a second, considering. Does he really want to go down this path? It doesn’t take a second for an answer to come back loud and clear. Yes. As soon as the thought enters his head, he wants it. But he’s not stupid, either.
“I think you know what you do to me,” Hasan says, matching George’s grin. “It’s just a question of if you want to do anything about it.”
George turns fully to face Hasan, leaning in even more. “And if I did?”
“So fucking coy,” Hasan says. He shakes his head and then reaches out to touch George, fingers brushing across the side of his neck, just under his jaw. That single touch is apparently all it takes to unlock the door. Seconds later George is leaning all the way over, practically falling into Hasan’s lap in an effort to kiss him.
Hasan grins and puts his arms around George, helping to pull him in closer and finally kissing him. His lips are soft and his mouth tastes faintly of sickly sweet apples, and they kiss hard and sloppy, not an ounce of romance or finesse in it.
“Fuck,” Hasan breathes when they separate for air. George takes the opportunity to reposition himself, crawling fully over Hasan and straddling his lap. He brings their lips together again and this time they manage to do it right, starting slow and sweet. They part for breath a few moments later, and this time their eyes meet and an unspoken agreement passes between them. They both know what they want and what they’re doing.
When their lips meet for a third time, the energy between them has changed. Hasan slips his arms around George and pulls him in close. George rocks his hips against Hasan’s and lets his hands roam over Hasan’s shoulders and arms and chest. They take their time, exploring each other’s mouths as they explore each other’s bodies with their hands. They stay like that for a while, just making out, enjoying the kissing and the touching, the grinding and the friction and all the sensation that comes from two bodies coming together for the first time.
As the heat between them grows, Hasan realizes they’re quickly approaching a point where there won’t be any going back.
“You sure this is what you want?” he asks the next time their lips part. He can feel George’s dick pressing against the jut of his hipbone, more than half hard from the way he’s been grinding against Hasan as they kissed. He knows what George’s body wants. Hasan just doesn’t want to be the thing George regrets in the morning.
George looks down at him with dark eyes, burning with want, and bites his lip. He rocks his hips again, rutting against Hasan, making his answer clear.
“Do you want to fuck me?” George asks instead of answering Hasan’s question. Hasan decides that’s answer enough. He trails his hands from George’s face and down the sides of his body before bringing them to rest on his ass. He squeezes.
“Hell yeah I do.”
“Good,” George whispers, a little smirk spreading across his face. “Because I want you to fuck me too.” Before Hasan can even process the thought, George is slipping off Hasan’s lap and dropping to the floor. He falls to his knees right between Hasan’s thighs and puts a hand on top of Hasan’s crotch, palm just barely pressing against Hasan’s bulge. Hasan groans and George looks up at him through his eyelashes. Fuck.
“Want to suck you off first.”
Hasan can barely breathe. He nods. “Yeah,” he says. “That sounds good.”
George grins. “Can you do me a favor, then?” he asks as he unfastens Hasan’s pants and pushes them down.
Hasan barely hears the question, so lost in watching George. He can’t tear his eyes away as George lowers his head down between Hasan’s legs, bringing that big, wide mouth to press against Hasan’s underwear-covered cock.
Hasan groans. “What favor?” It’s only the last bits of his common sense that keep him from immediately saying yes. He needs to know what he’s agreeing to, but he may need George’s mouth on him more.
Instead of answering, George opens his mouth and presses a wet kiss to the tip of Hasan’s cock, suckling at it through his underwear. An electric current passes through Hasan and he needs the underwear gone now. He needs so many things at once. His underwear off. His cock in George’s mouth. George naked and bent over the back of the couch. George’s tight asshole squeezing around him. George screaming as Hasan pounds into him. So many things.
George looks up from his position, smirking. He pulls back just enough to tuck his fingers in Hasan’s waistband.
“You have Snapchat, right?” he asks as he works Hasan’s briefs down.
Hasan sighs as the top of his dick pops free from the material. He watches George with dark, heavy-lidded eyes. He knows George is up to something—the look on his face gives it away.
“Yeah, I do.”
George nods and drops his head down to lick across the tip of Hasan’s weeping cock. He glances up at Hasan momentarily, resting his bottom lip lightly on the head.
“Make sure Dream sees.”
He doesn’t give Hasan a second to process the thought before his mouth is fully on him, wrapped tight around the upper half of Hasan’s cock, tongue tracing the underside.
Hasan can’t help but laugh even as the sensation hits him all at once. Of course. George has always been a little monster. He’s just gotten bolder. Another time, Hasan would love to study George, to figure out exactly how his mind works. Right now his dick is in George’s mouth, though, and George apparently really knows what he’s doing. All Hasan can do is grab his phone and gasp “Fine.”
Really, it’s fun in a way. The getting head is fun, of course, but fucking with Dream sounds just as fun. He doesn’t have any beef with Dream, nor does he have a clue what went on between George and Dream, or what brought George to this point. Austin just told him that Dream has a girlfriend now and that George needs to have a good time. Hasan can help with that.
He opens Snapchat and navigates to Dream’s profile quickly. George is sucking him like his life depends on it, occasionally flicking his eyes upwards to make sure Hasan is following through. Hasan wants to get this part over so he can just concentrate on what George is doing to him.
Still, he might as well make it worth the effort. He reaches his spare hand down and grabs George’s hair, tugging on it just right. George groans, and Hasan feels the vibrations all over his cock.
“Look at me,” he whispers, tightening his grip and tilting George’s head slightly back so their eyes meet. Hasan presses the button to take a picture and then releases George’s hair. George returns the favor with gusto, taking Hasan’s dick so deep that he practically chokes. Hasan goes boneless in response, momentarily losing focus. The phone slips out of his hand and hits the floor.
Just like that, George stops. He pops off Hasan’s dick and picks up the phone, looking at the picture, grinning at what he sees.
It’s a good picture. George’s eyes are locked on the camera, tears forming in the corner from the pain of Hasan tugging on his hair. His lips are swollen and bright red and wrapped tightly around Hasan’s cock. It’s clear from the angle that George is taking him deep. There’s slobber on his chin and he looks used, like a mess.
“Nice,” George says. He quickly types something on Hasan’s phone and then sets it aside before returning to the space between Hasan’s legs.
He looks so small there. It makes Hasan want to pick him up and shove him against a wall. To bend him in half and fuck him so hard he breaks. He doesn’t think George would break. At least, he wouldn’t break easily.
“What did you write?” Hasan asks, trying to catch his breath as George settles back into place and begins placing soft kisses up the length of Hasan’s shaft.
George laughs. “Your loss, bro.”
Hasan grins. “You’re evil.” George just shrugs and takes Hasan back into his mouth without another word.
With the distraction of the phone gone, George pours all of his attention into Hasan and it’s almost immediately too much. He has a mouth like a fucking vacuum cleaner and Hasan’s going to come in a matter of minutes if he keeps it up. George likes this. George likes this a lot. As far as he can tell, George loves sucking dick.
Hasan wouldn’t have suspected it, but he’s not mad about it.
Still, he’s not ready for this to be over so soon. When he reaches the point where doesn’t think he can take much more, he reaches down and guides George backwards. George releases Hasan’s cock and sits back on his heels, looking up at Hasan with wide, wet eyes and flushed cheeks. His legs are squeezed tight together and he’s pressing the heel of his palm down on his own cock, rubbing back and forth through his jeans.
Yeah, Hasan’s definitely not done with him.
“Come here,” he says, voice thick and low, words practically an order. He doesn’t wait for George to move but reaches down and takes him by the shoulders, pulling him up onto his lap and crashing their lips together.
“Fuck, you are good at that,” Hasan says when they come up for air.
George grins. “Yeah?” he asks. Hasan can tell by the tone in George’s voice that he wants more than that. He wants praise. He wants to be told how good he is.
“Yeah,” he says, stroking his thumb across George’s cheek. “You suck cock like you were born for it. Like that’s what your mouth was made for. Made me feel so good.”
George practically giggles in response. “Why did you stop me, then?”
Hasan stares at George’s lips for a second wondering the same thing himself. He wants that mouth back on him. Then George shifts in his lip, just the tiniest repositioning, and he remembers.
“I thought you wanted me to fuck you,” he says, voice coming from deep in his throat. He bucks his hips just a bit to drive home the point, his cock pressing into George’s ass through his jeans.
George moans softly and nods his head, swallowing. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Yeah, want that.”
Hasan slides his hands up George’s thighs and around to the back, slipping them beneath his waistband so his fingers can press dimples into the flesh of George’s ass. He leans forward to press a trail of kisses down the column of George’s throat. As he does, he feels something vibrating against his forearm. It takes a second to realize it’s George’s phone.
“Do you need to get that?” he asks, pulling his mouth away from George’s skin for a second.
“No,” George gasps as Hasan returns to kissing the sensitive skin of his neck. “He’s already called twice. Ignore it.”
Hasan grins against George’s skin and then opens his mouth to bite. It’s hard enough to leave a mark for later, but has the feeling that might be something George wants. He’s rewarded for his efforts when George lets out the most delicious sounding moan, his fingers grabbing onto Hasan’s shirt, digging deep to the skin underneath.
When he’s finished marking George’s neck, Hasan leans back a little and looks at him with pure want. “Take your clothes off,” he says. No need to beat around the bush here. George leans back and pulls his shirt off, and then slides off Hasan’s lap to deal with his pants.
Hasan leans back to watch, enjoying the show. Then a thought occurs to him and he looks over to where his phone is laying.
“Do you think Dream needs another picture?” he asks George, grin spreading across his face.
George blushes a little, jeans halfway down his legs, and shakes his head. “Not of this,” he says. “Nothing he hasn’t seen.”
That’s new information. Not surprising, but new.
“I’m betting it’s something he doesn’t get to see anymore.”
The words don’t have the intended effect. Instead of that devilish little smile he’s expecting, George freezes and frowns. It only happens for a second, but Hasan can see a wave of sadness wash over him.
“Not my choice,” he says, voice soft.
“Hey,” Hasan says, sitting up. He realizes he must look ridiculous, fully clothed with his dick flopping out of the top of his pants, but that’s not something he’s overly worried about in this moment.
“Come here,” Hasan says. George stares at him for a second and then moves, discarding his jeans behind him. Hasan pulls George back into his lap and kisses him softly, cradling his face between two over-large hands.
When he pulls back, he looks into George’s eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
George doesn’t respond, but he nods.
“We can stop.”
George shakes his head.
Hasan smiles softly, pulling George closer in, wrapping his arms around him.
“Okay, then. Tell me what you want.”
George gives him a strange look and then grins, that devilish look back on his face. Now that Hasan has seen the cracks in it, he’s not entirely sure it’s real.
“I already said I want you to fuck me. Can you handle that?”
Hasan frowns for a second at the change in George’s mood, but George is smiling and Hasan’s not his fucking therapist. He grins at George and is about to say something clever. His words die in his throat when he feels George’s hand slip down between them and wrap around his cock. All of the blood temporarily leaves his brain and for a minute he can’t remember what he was doing or saying.
“Fuck,” he whispers. He brings his hands to George’s ass and begins rubbing circles there, squeezing the cheeks in his hands before spreading them apart just enough to slip a finger between them.
George leans forward and presses his mouth to the hollow of Hasan’s throat, making soft, encouraging noises as Hasan rubs his dry finger over George’s hole. George arches his back to press his ass further into Hasan’s hands. Then, like he’s torn between which sensation he wants more, he curls his hips forward to rut against Hasan’s thigh.
“Greedy,” Hasan murmurs, chucking low in his chest. George moans low in his throat, practically vibrating with pleasure. It’s not quite enough noise to drown out the sound of his phone vibrating from the pile of clothes he left on the floor.
Hasan laughs. “Guess he’s not nearly as concerned about that girlfriend as he is about you.” He doesn’t give George time to dwell on the thought or to answer, though, bringing his hand up to George’s mouth.
“Suck,” he instructs.
George meets Hasan’s eyes as he takes the first two fingers of his hand into his mouth, sucking them hard. He squeezes Hasan’s dick at the same time.
“Fucking hell, you’re going to kill me,” Hasan says, trying to keep himself from slipping away into purely selfish pleasure. He pulls his fingers out of George’s mouth and brings them back around to his ass, circling George’s rim with one of them before slowly and carefully pushing it inside.
George whimpers in response, and Hasan can’t tell if it’s from pain or pleasure or both. He pauses for a second to make sure, but apparently George doesn’t want to wait. He sits up from where he’s been lying against Hasan’s chest and leans back, bracing himself with his arms behind him on Hasan’s thighs. Then he begins rocking his hips up and down, fucking himself on Hasan’s single finger.
It’s a beautiful sight, and Hasan can barely manage to tear his eyes away. George leaning back, eyes closed, throat speckled with little love bites that are sure to become bruises, chest flushing red. His cock is standing hard at attention, slapping against his abdomen with every rock of his hips, leaving a shiny wet trail of precome behind.
Hasan’s eyes drift over to his phone and he wonders. He glances at George and sees that he’s watching him with half-lidded eyes. He raises his eyebrows in a silent question, and George gives the slightest nod of his head. Then he bites his lip and closes his eyes and loses himself in the motion of his hips.
Hasan picks the phone up and opens Snapchat. He sees that Dream has viewed the photo he sent but hasn’t replied. Well, Dream can enjoy this one too, then. Right before he snaps another picture of George, he curls the finger inside of him right against George’s prostate. George goes rigid, mouth opened in a silent gasp, head tipped back in pure pleasure. It’s a beautiful picture, and Hasan presses send.
After he’s discarded his phone to the side, Hasan wraps his free arm around George’s back and pulls him in, holding him so he can’t move anymore. George whines.
“More,” he says.
Hasan chuckles. “Gonna give you more. Gonna give you so much, maybe more than you can take. Just be patient.”
George scoffs, but before he can say anything else with that smart little mouth of his, Hasan slips the second finger inside of him. The spit isn’t really enough, particularly given the size of Hasan’s fingers, but all he wants to do is hold it there anyway. George lets out a sharp gasp at the sensation and Hasan dips his head to take one of his pointed little nipples between his teeth.
He toys with George’s nipple for a while, biting and sucking and licking while George whines and writhes in his lap, overwhelmed with sensation while seeking out even more, trying to bear down on Hasan’s fingers.
The motion is almost too much for Hasan. He’s on the verge of snapping, pinning George down and fucking him until he cries. There’s something about George’s body that brings out an animal instinct in him. He’s more muscular and filled out than he was those years ago in London, but he’s still so small and pale and wiry compared to Hasan. It’s so easy to hold him in place, to manhandle him. This wriggling little creature on his lap is just begging to be filled up.
Composure coming near its end, he releases George’s nipple, all puffed and red and angry, and captures his lips again. He bites down hard on George’s swollen lower lip as he slips the fingers out of his hole and squeezes the fat of his ass.
“I want to fuck you now,” he tells George. “I want to fuck you so good you don’t remember anyone who’s ever fucked you before.”
“Please,” George whimpers, digging his fingers into Hasan’s shirt again. “Please.”
“Shh,” Hasan whispers, brushing his lips over George’s cheeks. “Don’t cry about it. I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. Gonna fill you up. Just have to go upstairs. No lube here and I don’t want to fuck you dry.”
George shakes his head and whines again, and Hasan’s not sure if it’s because he doesn’t want to be fucked dry or because he doesn’t want to move. Either way, he scoops George off his lap and moves him to standing. Once George is on his feet, Hasan stands and stares down at him, towering above him as he pulls his shirt over his head and finally, finally pushes his pants to the floor.
George’s eyes travel from the top of Hasan’s head down to his swollen red cock, finally set free from the cage of his clothing. He swallows hard, lips parting and an almost nervous expression creeping across his face. Hasan grins in response. He’s a proportional guy, after all. George looks small standing in front of him, like he can’t possibly take everything Hasan has to give. Hasan knows he can, though. He’s going to make sure of it. He runs his hand through George’s hair and cups his cheek.
“I’m not gonna hurt you.”
George scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Wow, think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?”
“You’re the one that can’t stop staring,” he says with a wolfish grin.
“It’s just…” George begins. He shrugs. “Just bigger than I thought it’d be.” He glances up at Hasan and meets his eyes. “I like a challenge, though.”
Hasan chuckles and leans down to kiss George again, soft and sweet to make up for the way he’s absolutely going to wreck him in a few minutes.
“Let’s go,” he says once they part, nodding towards the door. George tears his eyes away from Hasan and glances over at the phone sitting on the side table where Hasan discarded it.
“Bring your phone?” he asks. Hasan grins wide and tips his head back to laugh. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on here, but he’s pretty sure he’s getting the best end of the deal.
He grabs the phone and then takes George’s hand, leading him out of the room and up the stairs. Once they’re in Hasan’s room with the door closed, Hasan pulls him close, pressing their bodies together and crashing his lips against George’s, forcing his mouth open and slipping his tongue inside. George welcomes the invasion, opening up for Hasan.
As they kiss, Hasan runs a hand down George’s back and to his ass, slipping fingers between his cheeks and tickling there. George moans into his mouth and hooks his arms around Hasan’s shoulders before jumping up and wrapping his legs around Hasan’s waist. Hasan barely gets the memo in time, but manages to get an arm beneath George’s ass to support the new position.
He laughs into George’s mouth and murmurs, “You’re fucking crazy.”
George pulls back and looks at Hasan with a grin, hands tangling in Hasan’s curls. “I thought that’s what you liked about me.”
Hasan turns with George in his arms and moves towards the bed. “I like a lot of things about you, but right now I’m thinking that one is going to be especially fun.” He drops George on the bed and leans over to the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube before crawling onto the bed and draping his body over George’s.
George wraps his arms around Hasan’s neck and brings him in for a deep kiss. When they part, Hasan rolls onto his back and pulls George with him, so that George is lying on top of him. He coats his fingers with lube and reaches down, petting at George’s entrance for a second before pushing in with both fingers at the same time. He’s surprised when George takes them both with almost no resistance. He must have stretched him better than he realized downstairs.
George ruts his hips against Hasan’s abdomen as Hasan begins stretching him. He whines and moans as Hasan works him open, littering Hasan’s chest and neck with kisses, pleading for more and more. Hasan doesn’t wait long before pushing a third finger inside, patience running low. This one is a stretch, and George gasps as it slides in. Hasan curses under his breath at the tight squeeze around his fingers, knowing just how good that squeeze is going to feel around his dick.
He tries moving his fingers in and out of George, but each time he does he brushes against George’s prostate, causing him to cry out. He tries to avoid it, but his fingers are big and thick and George is so tight. If he keeps this up, George is going to come before Hasan even gets his dick inside him.
Hasan pauses and holds his hand still, but George tries to push his hips back, forcing Hasan’s fingers deeper so they hit that spot inside of him again. Hasan grabs onto George’s hip with one hand and squeezes hard, sending a clear message to stop.
“Want more,” George whispers. He tries again to push his hips back, but Hasan squeezes again, digging bruises into the side of George’s hip, forcing him to still.
“Fuck, you are so needy,” Hasan says. He slides his fingers out of George and grabs the back of his head, turning it up to kiss him deeply. George returns to rocking his hips, rubbing his dick against Hasan’s abdomen, taking his pleasure wherever he can get it.
“Fine,” Hasan says at last. He kisses George one last time before pushing him onto the bed. “Don’t blame me if you’re not stretched enough.”
George grins like he’s won the perfect prize and repositions himself, face down, ass high in the air. He wiggles his hips a bit while Hasan coats his own aching cock with lube. He’s not sad the foreplay is over, not with an ass like that waiting for him.
He moves so he’s kneeling behind George and brings his cock to George’s ass, hands holding his hips still. He can see the hole there, open and waiting for him, practically begging to be filled. He decides in that moment that George needs a little more torture before Hasan gives him what he wants. He slides his dick between George’s cheeks and begins rocking back and forth there, passing across George’s hole over and over again but never quite sliding in. George whimpers and arches his back and whispers please over and over again. He sounds so pretty when he’s begging.
When he thinks he’s pushed George right to the edge of insanity, Hasan finally relents and stops his motion, spreading George’s cheeks wide before lining himself up with the gorgeous hole waiting for him. He’s just beginning to press the blunt tip of his dick inside when George throws a hand to the side to grab Hasan’s phone. Through a tremendous force of will, Hasan freezes in place and waits. George pushes the phone towards him, glancing back just for a second. His face is red and there are little tears at the corner of his eyes, and Hasan is overcome by the need to make George feel good and ruin him in a single go.
He needs to fuck George until he’s crying because of how good it feels, to have him whimper and whine until Hasan drives him into overstimulation, until he can’t possibly take anymore.
“Make him watch,” George says softly, more a request than a demand, before turning his head away again. Hasan doesn’t think twice about it, grabbing the phone and opening the app. He positions the phone to get the best possible view and, at the last second, switches from picture to video. He presses record right as he begins sliding inside of George.
The phone shakes in his hand as he goes, but he can’t help that and the video is clear enough. George is so tight, almost too tight, and Hasan feels like his dick is being squeezed off. George cries out as Hasan enters him, grasping the sheets and clutching them tight as he whines incoherently. Hasan makes sure the camera sees it all.
“I can’t… Hasan… it’s too much… I can’t,” George whimpers.
Hasan pauses and pulls out just a little before thrusting in again slowly, beginning to move back and forth, in and out, as he gradually pushes himself deeper and deeper inside with each thrust. He’s rewarded by an absolute symphony of sound out of George. After a few seconds of recording this, he cuts the camera and presses send. He tosses the phone to the side and reaches his newly empty hand down to rub George’s lower back, to soothe him as he feeds him the last few inches.
“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” George continues to whimper as Hasan bottoms out, pressing his hips flush against George’s ass.
“Shh, George, baby, you have,” Hasan coos, rubbing George’s back. “You took all of me. You’re doing such a good job.”
George drops his head and pants. “I feel like you’re in my throat,” he manages to choke out in between heaving breaths. The smile is evident in his voice.
“Well, earlier I was,” Hasan says, earning a laugh from George. He’s holding still, letting George adjust to being so full, but he needs to move soon before he explodes.
“Gonna fuck you now, okay?” he asks, dipping his head down to kiss George’s upper back, managing to push himself that little bit deeper inside. George hums his assent and Hasan bites the skin of his back softly. “Not going to go easy on you. I think you can take it.”
George lets out a little whimper, but he doesn’t say no. Hasan lifts back up and grabs onto George’s hips, holding them steady as he pulls back and then thrusts deep inside again.
He’s true to his word—he doesn’t go easy, and George matches him beat for beat. Hasan watches George’s ass jiggle as he slams into him over and over, and he suddenly wishes he’d taken the time to turn George’s ass bright red before fucking him. George makes so many pretty noises, and Hasan needs to know what he sounds like being spanked. Needs to know what he looks like with tear marks running down his face. Needs to know what this perfect menace of man is like when he’s submitting all his control over to Hasan. What a picture. Next time, maybe, if there is a next time.
For now, he settles for the sound of his hips slapping George’s ass, listening to George’s cries and moans, feeling his hole tighten around Hasan’s cock as his pleasure grows. At some point, he notices his phone light up, Dream finally driven to response. He doesn’t bother looking or calling George’s attention to it. He wants all of George’s attention on what’s happening to him right this moment. He pushes the phone away to deal with later.
After a while, Hasan scoops an arm under George’s chest and pulls him up so he’s kneeling and leaning back against Hasan. He can’t fuck George as hard like this, his range of motion limited, but that’s not the point. He attaches his lips to George’s neck and begins sucking there, overcome with the need to leave another mark behind. George moans and reaches up to rest a hand in Hasan’s hair, holding him in place.
“Feel so good,” George whispers. “Wanna come.”
Hasan hums against George’s neck, thinking. Part of him wants to draw it out, to make George beg, but a larger part just wants to make George feel good. He thinks George deserves that.
“Okay, baby,” he murmurs. He slides a hand down George’s chest, pausing to squeeze a nipple hard between his thumb and forefinger, causing George to cry out. He bites down on the already bruised skin of George’s neck and then slides his hand down further, wrapping it around George’s cock.
“Do it yourself,” he whispers in George’s ear, curious to see if he’ll obey. He never imagined George as the sort to take orders, but he’s seeing a whole different side of George tonight. “Fuck my fist. Fuck yourself on my dick.”
George takes a gasping breath of air and nods, thrusting forward into Hasan’s tight fist and then back onto Hasan’s cock. Hasan returns to licking and biting down George’s neck as he does, spare hand coming to play gently with George’s already heavily abused nipple.
“Good boy,” he whispers against the skin of George’s neck. “You’re being so fucking good.” George positively whines at the words.
Moments later, George is coming hard, letting out a noise that Hasan’s never heard him make before. He stops moving, but Hasan takes over for him, pumping his fist up and down George’s length, squeezing out every drop he has to give. When he’s finished, he cups George’s chin and kisses his cheek and the side of his mouth. George is sweaty and panting, going boneless in Hasan’s arms.
“Shh,” Hasan whispers. “We’re not done yet, baby.” George shakes his head, clearly not understanding. Hasan reaches down to grab his own dick, gently easing it out of George’s hole. That seems to break through George’s fog and he frowns, reaching around to try to grab it. Hasan gently knocks George’s hand away and guides him to lie down on his stomach. He grabs his own cock and starts pumping it hard and fast, pushing himself over the edge in just a few strokes. As he comes, he presses his dick down onto the top of George’s ass, letting the come fill the crack up, dripping into George’s hole in one direction while it spreads into a pool on his lower back in the other direction.
When he’s finished, he stretches out on the bed next to George, spent and satisfied. George turns his head to look at him, bumping his forehead against Hasan’s shoulder.
“You didn’t have to cover me in your come,” he says. He softly bites Hasan’s bicep in retaliation. Hasan grins.
“Yeah, I did. You needed to get covered up. You should always be covered in come.” He lifts his head and glances back down at George’s ass, at the pool of come resting in the dip of his lower back. “Do you want to send Dream a picture of it?” He still doesn’t quite get whatever game this is, but he’s willing to help.
George sighs and lifts his head, rubbing his face with his hands.
“No,” he says. “I’m done with that.”
Hasan nods. He forces himself to sit up and slide off the bed. “Let me clean you up.”
George hums in agreement and then lets his head flop back down to the bed, lying still while Hasan gets a washcloth and takes his time wiping George clean. When he’s finished, he lies back on the bed again and wraps an arm around George, pulling him in close.
“Dream responded, by the way,” he says once George is settled in his arms.
“What did he say?”
“Didn’t look,” Hasan says. He chuckles. “Had my mind on something else.”
George grins at that. “Pretty distracted, huh?”
“You’re pretty distracting.”
Hasan feels around and finds the phone, unlocking it and navigating to the message thread with Dream. “Please stop,” he reads.
George stays silent for a few minutes before shaking his head, as if trying to shake Dream out of his brain. “I guess I’m sorry if any of that was weird for you.”
“You guess you’re sorry? Damn, some apology.”
George just shrugs and offers Hasan half a smile. “Are you really mad about it?”
“Hell no,” Hasan says, laughing. “It was kind of awesome. I don’t know what weird jealousy shit the two of you have going on, but I don’t mind. I’ll play along any time.”
“I think the message got through,” George says. He sounds a little somber now, and the tone of his voice worries Hasan. He knows George had a good time, but he doesn’t want him to walk away from this with any regrets.
“Anyway,” George continues. “I don’t think I’ll need to do that again.” He pushes himself up and away from Hasan, as if he’s going to get out of bed. Hasan grabs his arm before he can slide away.
“Stay. Just stay here tonight.” He shakes his head, knowing that’s not enough. “I want you to stay here.”
George looks at him for a long moment before silently nodding and lying back down. Hasan wraps an arm around him and pulls George into his side, cuddling him close. He thinks George needs it.
“It wasn’t about making him jealous,” George whispers once he’s settled.
“Oh?” Hasan asks, reaching over to turn out the light. He glances at George for a moment before switching it off and thinks for a second that he could get used to the sight. He’s not looking for a relationship… he likes his life the way it is. But he wouldn’t mind doing this again, with or without the psychological warfare. “What was it about then?”
“Revenge,” George says simply, a coldness in his tone that Hasan hasn’t heard before. Apparently, despite his best efforts, he did not manage to fuck the memory of anyone who came before out of George. It was a lofty goal anyway. Maybe he can try again another day. He dips his head down to kiss George’s forehead, then his cheeks, and then his lips.
“Pretty good revenge.”