Archive of Our Own ^beta

George was afraid of something.

This thought had crossed his mind after that first time. And lately, he'd found it harder to suppress that fear.
If he said a word, at the wrong moment, his world would crumble.

But as soon as the other claimed him as if he were his own, his mind drifted away.

His fear vanished, and he surrendered completely to the pleasure until he couldn't distinguish anything.

Oscar's hands on his breasts, a little bigger, a little rougher.

His groans of pleasure, a little hoarser.

The way he take him. As if he'd known his body longer than they'd been together.

The way he kiss him. As if sealing an eternal love with his lips.

George was being consumed, devoured, and adored.

As if the other loved him with his soul.

George doesn't know when Oscar fell in love, because what they have is casual, raw sex. There are no feelings. And he's satisfied with how the other desires and possesses him, but George is being made love to, and he's only having sex.

He opens his eyes slightly and sees strands of blond hair. He closes them, lost in thought once more, and with each deep thrust, the sensation he's been longing for builds in his womb. Like fire devouring trees in a blaze.

And then they reach orgasm.

"Osc!"

George moans with longing and pure desire in his voice, and Max, his husband, stares at him, his eyes wide with shock.