Archive of Our Own

The thing with George is that he's always put together. Even when he's a mess, somehow he still manages to not let it fully show.

And unlike Oscar, he doesn't have to hide behind a mask to achieve this.

Oscar envies him for it.

It's not even intentional, he just noticed it over the years.

Whenever he's forced to do media stuff with George, Oscar can't help but compare himself to him. George is all easy smiles, perfectly polished, always knowing the right answers. And Oscar? He's awkward, he visibly doesn't want to be there and he stumbles over his words when answering.

Sometimes, he just wants to see George crack a bit. Nothing big, just enough for Oscar to notice. To know George isn't perfect either.

Sure, he could probably ask Lando during one of their drunken moments to air out some of George's dirty laundry but Oscar hasn't reached that level of desperation yet.

As for now, he can only hope to discover George secretly sucks at padel or something.

When Lando invited him to play with them; them being George, Alex and obviously Lando, Oscar's first instinct was to say no. Then he had to realise he actually hasn't lived any social life during the winter break so far, and he could probably use spending time with friends. Well, more like Lando's friends but whatever.

He walks a step behind Lando, trying his best to not look awkward. But knowing himself, he probably does look awkward.

Oscar fidgets with the hem of his T-shirt as he watches the others get into an easy conversation. It's not like he doesn't want to be a part of it, he just doesn't know how.

Lando teases George about his shorts.

George attempts to defend himself, saying they're running shorts and they're actually the perfect length.

But now Oscar's eyes are fixated on him. George probably doesn't even notice it. Or at least, Oscar hopes he doesn't. Because the way he's looking at George's long legs could hardly be considered normal.

Oscar had to come to terms with the fact that George is hot a long time ago.

It wasn't even a gay thing.

Just observation.

An observation that was probably not helped by the fact Oscar is into men. But that's irrelevant.

He tries to focus on the game, he really tries.

And it works just enough that the first time George and Alex score a point is actually thanks to Lando being horrible at padel. Oscar knew from the beginning he was probably on the losing team when Lando cheerfully decided they'd be a team.

Not that he minds, at least this way there's a chance they'll lose because of Lando and not because he can't get his eyes off of George. Or his stupidly nice legs.

Those shorts should be banned, Oscar reaches the conclusion when he nearly trips over his own foot.

It's actually quite surprising nobody called him out yet.

He failed to be subtle about his staring problem about fifteen minutes into the game.

Maybe Lando noticed, he's just waiting to tell Oscar he was being painfully gay later, when they're alone.

Oscar misses yet another shot.

He can feel his cheeks heating up when Lando laughs at him. Openly. At least Alex and George are trying to hide the fact they're clearly entertained by it.

He clears his throat awkwardly and goes to fetch the ball, hoping to calm down before continuing the match.

Oscar's way too busy to act normal to notice that, for once, George is staring at him as he bends down to grab the ball.

After what feels like forever, Oscar finally manages to score his second point for their team. Lando drops his padel and practically knocks him off his feet in celebration.

Oscar awkwardly lets Lando hug him, patting his back.

George disturbs their moment. He says something about being here to play not to watch Lando get gay with Oscar and they should do it later when he doesn't have to witness it.

Lando makes a face but peels himself off Oscar.

Oscar attempts not to blush. He doesn't succeed.

Not so surprisingly, Oscar messes up again after this. He sighs and just goes to grab the ball, again. He really sucks at padel. And unfortunately, George does not.

And despite learning that, Oscar doesn't say no the next time Lando invites him to play with them again.

That's probably the first mistake he made.

This time, he can't seem to function properly either.

Oscar didn't know it was possible, but George managed to show up in even shorter shorts than last time.

Not even ten minutes into the game, George scored multiple points already because of Oscar's staring problem.

He's a mess at best. And it's a miracle George hasn't noticed it yet. Or anyone else for that matter, considering nobody made fun of him yet.

Oscar's eyes are practically glued to George, watching every move. Every flex of his muscles. The way his now damp T-shirt clings to his body. The way his skin glistens with sweat. His victorious grin whenever he scores a point.

It doesn't even occur to him that George did notice it. And now he's performing. Because the way he ran his fingers through his hair could not have been natural.

George laughs with shining eyes when Oscar fumbles.

And Oscar cannot find it in himself to be offended.

Maybe he is painfully gay. Painfully gay for his perfect colleague.

Which is... far from ideal according to Oscar. And he will have to have a serious talk with himself about the situation later. This cannot be something permanent.

Oscar doesn't even notice his lips parting a bit when he watches George down half of his water bottle. He can't help but stare as George's lips wrap around the opening, the way his Adam's apple bops with each gulp, there are a few drops escaping his lips and sliding down his chin.

George, despite his best efforts and being amazing at putting up a show, almost chokes on his water when he notices Oscar's expression. Not that he wasn't aware of his eyes on him. But he didn't expect such an obvious reaction.

Thankfully, Lando is busy with accusing Alex of cheating for either of them to pay attention to whatever is going on between George and Oscar.

The game continues, but Oscar's performance is probably even more pathetic than before. And, well, Lando was never good at padel, he just has a big mouth.

So to nobody's surprise, they lose.

Lando's sulking.

Oscar's embarrassed and tries to leave the scene as quickly as possible, not leaving room for anyone to tease him about his horrible performance.

He's already dressing up into clean clothes in the locker room, when Lando and George are still showering.

He swears he wasn't trying to eavesdrop. But, well, Lando is a loud individual. And he tends to be loud even when he probably shouldn't be.

This situation being one of them.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Lando scoffs. He's clearly still upset about losing. Which is weird considering he probably never won in padel before...

Oscar struggles to pull his jeans on, his skin still slightly damp from the shower he just took.

Then he completely freezes up as Lando continues his rant.

"Maybe I'll bring you treats next time we play," he says. "So every time you score a point, you can get one."

That was... weird. But whatever, Oscar knows Lando can be weird when he's sulking.

Except he follows up with "Or just bring a collar and leash to keep you in check. At least then you'll be too distracted to play properly."

Oscar isn't sure he heard Lando's remark right. It sounded even more weird than the treats one. And he tries to ignore any indication it can have, focusing on tying his shoelaces.

Well, he would try to focus on that. If George wasn't yelling with Lando about someone possibly hearing them.

"What?" Lando laughs. "It's not like they'd know."

And... he would be right. Oscar had no idea this wasn't just Lando being a petty loser, until now.

Because this just confirms that those words were in fact not just a joke.

Oscar feels dizzy suddenly.

It wouldn't be the first time he learns about someone's kinks without any intention of doing so. Lando exposed himself many times before. And Oscar would've been really fine without knowing what his teammate likes in the bedroom.

But this one is different.

Because it's George.

Because it's not just a simple thing like blindfolds or something; that's pretty common after all.

Because Oscar just learnt that George Russell is into puppy play.

He doesn't know what to do with this information.

He probably shouldn't do anything with it. He should probably ignore it. Act like he never heard anything.

Except it's hard.

This is the first thing about George that doesn't fit his perfect persona. And Oscar cannot let it go.

Even days later, when he sees George's newest post, all Oscar can think about is how George would look with a collar around his neck.

It's weird.

It's a possibility he never considered.

And even worse, he's not against it.

He tries to tell himself it's normal. He learnt something not so everyday about someone, so it's completely normal to not be able to get over it easily.

But when it gets to the point where Oscar can no longer look at George normally, he knows he's fucked.

He was already into George, as he had to face it. And this discovery did not make that attraction any better.

Lando invites him again to hang out with him and his friends. Oscar, not being able to come up with a good excuse, agrees.

Which turns out to be a horrible mistake when George shows up.

Oscar expected him to be there, obviously, but he wasn't ready to know what would go on inside his head when he saw George.

Despite trying not to imagine anything weird, it takes Oscar approximately two seconds to imagine George wearing a collar.

And suddenly, he thinks it's a shame Lando didn't actually act on his previous idea of bringing George a leash and everything. Because he surely would look amazing.

They're chatting loudly over the table, Lando is probably a few too many drinks in even though it's late after at best.

Oscar is nursing his beer, he hasn't actually taken a sip yet. He ordered it because everyone was ordering beers.

He attempts to focus on the conversation, but his thoughts start to wander to completely different topics very quickly.

Oscar already established George's shorts should be illegal, and now he would like to add clothes in general to that list.

Maybe it would just be the best if George wasn't allowed to wear anything.

Because, as for now, it seems like no matter what he wears, the sight is already enough to prevent Oscar's brain from working properly.

So he might as well be naked and let Oscar enjoy the view.

George ends up next to him. He even attempts to strike up a conversation, but all Oscar manages is to look at him slightly dazed and nod along.

It's embarrassing at best, but he can't help it. He's really trying to function properly but whenever he blinks, the mental image of George in nothing but a collar appears and it really messes with Oscar.

Eventually, George gives up and turns to Lando to talk about whatever. And Oscar still can't help it but stare at him dumbly.

It's not just becoming a problem, it is a problem.

He manages to hold out for about an hour before he mumbles something about not feeling well. Nobody questions it, and Oscar tries to ignore the fact it's probably because he looks flushed and can't put together a coherent sentence.

Lando makes him promise to text him when he gets home and Oscar just nods weakly. Only if he could be home already...

This was a horrible idea at best.

And as if the situation can't get any worse, he stumbles when he gets up.

"I'll go with him," George offers without leaving room for anyone else.

Oscar really wants to disagree. He's sure he won't be able to handle George actually going home with him.

Except Lando is faster and tells George it's an amazing idea.

George says goodbye with that perfect smile of his. Oscar stands next to him awkwardly, attempting to look normal about the situation.

It lasts exactly until George puts an arm around his shoulder to guide him out.

Oscar's sure his brain stopped working completely at that moment.

He can feel the heat radiating off George's body, the way his arm wraps around him and probably worst of all, his cologne.

He has to physically stop himself from burying his face in George's neck, or at least shoulder and inhale his scent.

He must make a weird expression because George gives him an actually concerned look.

"I'm okay... I swear..." Oscar mumbles. It's far from convincing, but he's just glad he managed to put together a sentence.

"You really don't look okay," George replies. "Are you really not feeling well?"

"Yeah, it must be... something," Oscar nods. "Something, yeah..."

Something that has absolutely nothing to do with George. Because if he's this affected by George, that is actually a problem. And no longer just from a professional view point.

"Okay, let's just get you home then," George smiles at him. At him.

Oscar's a goner.

He stumbles again, and he's sure he's no longer able to hide the way he's looking at George.

George obviously holds him tighter, not letting him actually fall. And that just makes the whole thing worse.

Oscar feels like he's drunk. Except he hasn't had a single drink. That two sips of beer he forced down to look less awkward is nothing.

"Oscar," George nudges him softly, breaking Oscar out of his stupor.

"Yeah?" he glances up at him.

"What's going on with you?"

Oscar would attempt to lie. But as he opens his mouth to say "nothing" he somehow ends up blurting out something completely different.

"You."

George blinks at him with those bright blue eyes of his.

"Me?" he asks back, like he can't believe his own ears. He was aware of the way Oscar has been looking at him for a while now, and he was... well, clearly playing into it. But he never really expected to have such an effect on Oscar, or anyone for that matter.

Oscar nods weakly.

"Do you want to elaborate on that?" George asks gently.

Oscar gives him a pained expression. He really does not want to elaborate on it. It's bad enough already.

But he can't exactly bring himself to say no to George. Not when he's looking at him like that... Eyes wide and curious and head tilted to the side slightly... like a curious puppy.

Oscar almost whines at that thought. This is really not the place or time for it.

"You," he repeats himself. "Just you."

When George just looks at him dumbly, like he still can't understand, Oscar forces himself to continue.

"Your like... whole being, yeah," he mumbles. "Literally, everything..."

He says something about George being way too hot and adds a few examples.

And George is... clearly enjoying it. He's glowing under the praise.

His expression however breaks completely when Oscar utters the words "puppy play". He stops in his steps, frozen up.

"I'm sorry what?" George asks back, not being able to hide his shock.

"I heard it..." Oscar sighs. "Lando is too loud. And now... and now I can't stop thinking about it."

Oscar wants to disappear after his confession. He just wishes the earth would open up under him and swallow him as whole.

"You heard it," George repeats. "And can't stop thinking about it..."

It's not clear whether George can't believe the words he just heard or is being dumb on purpose. But whatever his intentions are, his answer does not help Oscar's state.

Oscar nods again. He's not sure if he could trust his voice.

"Thinking about it in what way?" George ends up asking.

This is surely not appropriate behaviour with your colleague. That's all what Oscar manages to think about before opening his mouth to answer.

"The... uhm... you know, whole thing," he mumbles. "Lando said the collar thing and now I can't look at you without imagining it and... and it's weird. Not necessarily bad weird, but weird. Because I shouldn't be thinking about it. But I do. And I don't know what to do with it."

He's rambling. He knows he's rambling.

But George doesn't stop him and Oscar can't stop himself either.

"Do you want to try it?" George ends up blurting out eventually.

Oscar blinks up at him dumbly.

"What?"

For once, it seems like George has broken his usual persona. And Oscar would be delighted to see George Russell not functioning properly if he himself weren't in an even worse state.

"Well, you seem like you're into the idea..." George tries to appear nonchalant. "And, well, you know, it's not like I wouldn't... you know..."

Oscar can't decide if he's dreaming or if this is all part of some elaborate prank. Because it feels like anything but a real conversation.

"Don't just look at me that way," George mumbles. "It makes me feel stupid."

And as much as Oscar would like that idea of that, he can't resist the way George almost pouts.

"Yeah, uhm... yeah," he nods way too eagerly.

He clears his throat and attempts to give George a proper answer.

"Yeah, I would be down if you're like... actually serious about it."

"Why would I joke about something like this?" George tilts his head again.

"I don't know," Oscar shrugs. "Why would I know what goes on in that pretty head of yours..."

George seems to light up again when Oscar says that.

Oscar has no idea at what point they changed directions and started heading towards George's place, but he's not complaining.

This is a bad idea at best. But neither of them seems to care enough to actually turn around and ignore their previous conversation.

The silence between them is charged with tension. Oscar would attempt small talk or something, but that would mean he would have to use his brain. Which isn't something he would be capable of doing so right now.

As they get closer to George's place, George tenses up noticeably. His usual put together appearance cracks.

Oscar can hear the way his breathing speeds up then how George forces himself to calm down.

"Are you sure?" Oscar manages to ask finally when they're inside George's place, the door locked behind them.

"Why wouldn't I be sure?" George looks at him. "I was the one suggesting."

"Yeah, but... I don't know... you seem off."

"I'm not off," George insists.

And to prove his point, he presses himself against Oscar completely. Oscar lets out a soft gasp when George grabs him, but he can't find it in himself to complain.

He looks up at George, searching for his eyes and he tentatively places his hands on George's waist.

"Don't be shy," George almost purrs.

Oscar normally would want to disappear if someone were to tell him this. But now? Now he lets his fingers dig into George's side. He looks for any hesitation once again, and when he meets with nothing but impatience, he presses his lips against George's.

It starts off awkward. Their lips move in anything but harmony.

Oscar has no idea what George likes. If he should attempt to take control. Or if he should just let George take whatever he wants...

Then finally, George parts his lips for him. And seemingly has no intention of doing more.

So Oscar gathers enough courage to push his tongue into his mouth.

George lets out a sound when he licks into his mouth.

And Oscar's a goner again.

One of his hands reaches up to tangle up in George's hair, pulling him lower.

Their teeth collide, but neither of them seem to care. Not when Oscar gently bites down on George's lower lip then runs his tongue over it to soothe the slight pain.

George kisses back, but he already slipped into a more submissive role. He lets Oscar decide when and how their tongues meet. He allows himself to be pulled closer.

Oscar's knees almost give in when he realises this.

He moves his lips with more fervour now, his tongue slipping into George's mouth more often.

It's messy.

Neither of them has the strength to pull away to breathe; or swallow properly.

Oscar slightly pulls on George's hair, just enough to get a sound out of him. Then smiles into the kiss, satisfied with himself.

George's jaw goes slack when Oscar presses his leg between his.

There is no way, or reason, to hide his obvious excitement. So he even moves his hips slightly, grinding against Oscar.

That's when Oscar can't handle it anymore. He breaks the kiss. There's a string of saliva connecting their lips.

George chases after Oscar, but doesn't push for more when he sees Oscar clearly panting and trying to regulate himself.

"So we're really doing this..." Oscar breathes.

"Why? You changed your mind?" George questions. He doesn't want to think anymore, he just wants Oscar to take control.

"No," Oscar shakes his head quickly and to reassure George, he presses another kiss onto his lips. "I just... well, shouldn't we... like, you know, discuss it?"

George pouts. He knows they should discuss it. But he doesn't want to do it.

"I... sorry, but I really have no idea how this is even supposed to go or anything... I never... I never actually tried it. I just know I'm into the idea and... yeah..." Oscar attempts to explain it.

"Yeah, okay, you're right," George sighs and reluctantly steps away. "We should discuss it..."

The way he sounds, makes Oscar want to just give in and figure out on the way. But he knows that's really not how it should be. Maybe you can figure stuff out if it's just some everyday kink. But this? This needs a proper conversation.

"I was serious... the most I've ever done is like hair pulling and stuff," Oscar mumbles when George guides him to the couch to have said conversation.

"That's..." George breathes out. "That's fine. I can help," he gives him a small, reassuring smile.

"Okay," Oscar nods. "So like... can you tell me what this exactly means to you?"

George almost whines. This is exactly why he doesn't like telling about it to new partners. He just wants to get to it already. He doesn't want to think, to talk, to do anything besides follow Oscar's commands like a good pup he is.

But he forces himself to actually answer the question.

This is an important conversation.

It's important to discuss things.

Oscar tries to remember everything that George tells him. But it's really messing with his head already. He was already hard before thanks to the kiss they shared, and despite the awkward nature of this conversation, his excitement doesn't seem to want to go away.

"Do you have like... a safe word or something?" Oscar asks once George's done with his explanation.

"Box," George replies after a moment.

"Seriously...?" Oscar blinks at him.

"Yeah, why?" he tilts his head to the side again.

"Nothing. Works for me," Oscar clears his throat.

"Anything else?" George asks then, clearly eager.

"I... I don't think so," Oscar hums. "It's not like we can't stop if something happens to be undernegotiated," he has no idea how he manages to put together such coherent sentences, because his mind is sure on something else already.

"Exactly!" George beams. "You wait here then, calm down a bit and I'll go change."

Oscar watches him leave dumbly. He already looks like an excited puppy.

That thought does not help Oscar. He twitches in his jeans even just thinking about it.

George said he should calm down a bit. But how does one do that? Oscar tries to get his racing heart under control, but fails very quickly when he even as much as thinks about what's going to happen. He attempts to get into the right headspace, maybe even stop looking like he's about to pass out from the nerves.

He wants to think he succeeds.

But even if he did. It all goes out of the window the moment he sees George.

Oscar's lips actually part, taking a sharp breath as he watches George approach. In all fours. Naked. Except for the collar he's wearing.

Oscar feels like he could cum into his pants just from the sight itself.

It's both nothing and everything like he has imagined.

He reaches out to call George closer.

And George crawls closer.

Oscar would love to spend more time appreciating his naked form, his muscles... his everything. But he can't look away from the collar. It's a nice one, not even something very fancy. It's black leather, not too thick, not too thin. Just the perfect size to sit around George's neck.

And Oscar would probably spend even more time inspecting it, if his attention wouldn't be grabbed by the leash attached to it.

George looks up at him with big eyes. The end of the leash between his teeth. He makes a soft sound, nudging Oscar's leg with his head.

For a moment, Oscar tries to figure out what he wants. Then blinks down at him and reaches for the leash.

George lets out a content hum as Oscar finally grabs it properly.

Oscar is completely dazed.

He never expected to see George in such a position. But it looks good on him.

He carefully tugs on the leash. George follows without hesitation, settling near Oscar's leg.

"Fuck..." Oscar breathes. "Such a good boy," he says.

The words feel alien on his tongue. But the way George reacts makes him forget about that.

George lights up at the praise, letting out a soft sound.

Oscar has never been more thankful for being sat down than right now. His heart is hammering in his chest as he slowly reaches down to run his fingers through George's soft locks.

George leans into the touch, even nudging Oscar's hand when he stops petting him.

It should be more weird. But Oscar has never been more turned on in his life and they barely even did anything.

"So pretty," Oscar whispers. He doesn't even think about it as he says the words out loud. "Such a pretty thing."

He lets his hand travel from George's hair to the collar. His fingers tracing the bright blue stitching. It's so... George.

He curiously takes the silver tag between his fingers, flipping it, trying to see if George has anything written on it.

Oscar's nearly disappointed to see it only has a "G" engraved into it.

"I almost expected you to have “good boy” written on it," he says, almost teasing.

George would probably tell him off for it normally.

But now?

Now he lets out a whine like sound and presses his head into Oscar's hand.

Oscar almost laughs at it. Almost.

It's endearing in a way.

"Calm down boy" he says, but he goes back to petting George.

Oscar is bad at dog talk. He already knows that. But it seems like George will take anything right now. So he tries to not let it bother him.

He keeps petting George, whispering praises occasionally.

That's until George seemingly gets bored of it and... and barks.

Oscar blinks at him with wide eyes.

"That's... did you just bark?" he asks, dumbfounded.

Of course he knew George could bark, he mentioned it during their conversation. But he never expected to actually experience it.

George barks again to confirm it.

And Oscar once again doesn't know what to do with it.

Thankfully, George is a good pup, he knows what he wants.

"Hey," Oscar exclaims when George shuffles closer to him.

George blinks up at him with those blue eyes. And Oscar can't find it in himself to scold him. Even though George just decided on his own to switch places and settle between Oscar's legs.

"You can't just do that," Oscar mumbles, his voice lacking the edge.

George whines softly, pressing his face into Oscar's thigh. He looks... apologetic?

"It's okay," Oscar sighs, petting him again. "But only this time," he adds.

George doesn't really answer. He just leans into the touch further.

It doesn't take long until Oscar gets impatient too. He's been painfully hard for ages now. And it has only gotten worse.

He tugs on the leash again, making George let out a surprise sound.

"What?" Oscar looks down at him. "You don't like it?"

George barks again. It's... Is Oscar going crazy or does it sound like he's arguing back?

Oscar chooses to think George is just amazing at playing the role.

"Do you want to be a good boy for me?" Oscar asks, caressing George's face. Then tracing his lips gently with the pad of his thumb.

George immediately nods.

"So eager," Oscar hums. "Open your mouth."

And so he does.

It's surely a sight. George sitting between his legs, fully naked and very obviously hard. Oscar tries not to think about it too hard as he slips a finger inside George's mouth. Just a few digits.

George immediately understands the sign. He licks at Oscar's finger, then starts sucking on it.

Oscar adds another one.

He can't help but imagine how those pink lips would look if they were wrapped around his cock instead of his fingers.

But he doesn't want to pull his fingers out yet.

He watches with wide eyes as George sucks on his fingers. Eager. And way too much saliva. It's sloppy. Oscar presses down on George's tongue, testing the waters.

George lets out a small sound but doesn't stop.

Oscar feels like he could do anything and George would allow it. That alone mixed with the sight is enough to make him dizzy.

"Enough," he says, his voice hoarse.

George lets out a whine but opens his mouth so Oscar can slide his fingers out.

"Good boy," Oscar praises him again.

Normally, he would be hesitant to touch someone's face with saliva coated fingers. Normally. But there's nothing ordinary about this situation.

So he runs his fingers over George's lips, tracing their outline. Then goes over to his cheek. His touch soft and loving.

"Such a good boy for me," he smiles down at him. "You'd do anything for me, right?"

And George barks in confirmation.

Oscar probably shouldn't find it as hot as he does. But at this point he doesn't care at all. So what if he's absolutely into it? Nothing.

"Come on then," he hums. He pulls George closer by the leash.

George doesn't have to be told twice. He nuzzles into Oscar's crotch.

And Oscar has to bite back a groan.

George doesn't seem to care, though, he just keeps rubbing his face against Oscar's hard cock through the layers of clothing. Right until Oscar gets bored of it and with his free hand, he presses George closer.

"Don't play with me," he says, attempting to sound firm. But he clearly fails when George looks up at him, his pupils wide blown.

Oscar clears his throat; second time's the charm.

"Do it properly."

George still looks at him with those eyes. But now he has tilted his head like he doesn't understand it. He looks... so dumb.

"George," Oscar hisses. "Be a good boy and suck my dick."

Now that… that works.

George finally reaches up to free Oscar's already hard and aching cock. His eyes widen slightly as he's met with the sight. It's... impressive. Oscar's tip is already dark pink and the veins... George can't resist the urge to trace them with his tongue.

Oscar immediately buries his fingers in George's hair. He wants to press him closer, hold him there, take control immediately. But he supposes George had been a good pup so far, and he's allowed to play a bit before getting to business.

"Fuck," he groans when George wraps his lips around his tip.

Oscar resists to buck his hips up, he wants to let George take his time. Even if that might mean passing out on his couch.

George hums around him, his tongue running over his slit as he gently sucks on the head.

One of his hands is around the base of Oscar's cock to help his movements, the other curled up in a fist on Oscar's thigh so he wouldn't touch himself without permission.

He gets lost in the action. He barely even notices how Oscar can't hold himself back longer. George is just happy to finally have his lips around something. He mindlessly swirls his tongue around the head, then finally moves to swallow more of Oscar's length.

Oscar almost whines.

"George, more," he pants.

George glances up at him, mouth full. And... Oscar seriously considers passing out from the sight.

"Don't make me say it twice..." Oscar threatens. Except it sounds closer to a plea.

His fingers tighten in George's hair, holding him in place as he slowly moves his hips. He doesn't want to do too much too quickly, but he really needs more...

George whines around him. And it sounds pathetic, Oscar lets him go.

"Then do it properly on your own," he orders, finally finding his voice.

Thankfully, George doesn't have to be told twice this time. He immediately goes to take more of Oscar's length. He can feel the corners of his mouth stretching, almost painfully as tries to take him deeper.

"Yeah, good boy," Oscar hums, gently petting George's face. "Just like that."

George hums around him, slowly bobbing his head. He has yet to take his whole length. His hand is working on the remaining of Oscar's cock that he can't swallow, matching the pace of his mouth.

Oscar practically sees stars as George continues working on him, the way his tongue flattens to lick the underside of Oscar's cock as he moves…

He wants to be nice about it, he really does. But his fingers curl in George's hair without permission. He pushes George down. And when he doesn't seem to mind it, Oscar repeats the action more bravely.

Until George actually gags around him.

"Fuck, sorry George," Oscar whispers quickly and lets his hair go. "Are you okay? I'm sorry..."

But George doesn't actually answer. He just gives him a lazy smile. Then nuzzles into his thigh.

Okay. It can't be that bad if George doesn't see the need to talk.

"I'll be more careful, yeah?" Oscar promises.

George nods and looks up at him again, waiting.

Oscar caresses his face.

"So pretty," he smiles.

He takes his cock in his hand and guides it to George's lips. He nudges his lips apart, and slowly pushes his tip in.

Then he gives back the control to George.

George hums contentedly around him. The vibrations of it making Oscar lose his mind once again.

He buries his fingers in George's hair again, gently scratching his scalp as George works on him.

George closes his eyes and tries to go lower. But he quickly has to pull back. His gag reflex is really working against him today.

He blinks up at Oscar with an apologetic look.

"It's okay," Oscar whispers. "You tried."

But that doesn't seem enough for George. He whines and tries again and again. He never quite succeeds. His throat already hurts and he knows he should really give up. But he can't let Oscar down. He can't do that. He's supposed to be a good boy.

"Hey, hey, George," Oscar practically pulls him off himself. "I said it's okay."

George clearly doesn't think so. He lets out a pained sound and wants to try again.

"George," Oscar stops him. "Don't."

George blinks up at him. Eyes wide. His pupils so big the blue of his eyes are barely a thin ring around them. And worst of all, his pretty eyes are glistening with tears.

"You don't have to," Oscar repeats. "You're already being a good boy for me," he tries to reassure George.

He cups George's face with both hands.

"Good boy," he says softly and presses a kiss onto his now red lips. "You don't have to do it. This is enough for me."

George wants to believe that. But he really should do better. And he knows he could do better.

He chases after Oscar's lips.

He knows he probably shouldn't. This is not what good pups do. They don't act on their own. They follow orders.

But Oscar is just too nice to him.

Oscar smiles again and kisses him. He doesn't care at all that less than a minute ago where that mouth was. He keeps his hands where they were, around George's face, his thumbs gently caressing his cheeks as he kisses George.

It's soft, reassuring.

Oscar doesn't even plan to deepen it.

But George opens his mouth, and well, Oscar can't resist.

He wants to pull away, ask if George is really okay when he feels his cheeks getting wet under his fingers.

But when he attempts, George moves after him.

So Oscar just lets it happen.

When they part, Oscar leans down to press another quick peck on his lips.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly, wiping away his tears.

George nods, leaning into his touch.

"George, please, use your words," Oscar pleas softly. "I need to know you're actually okay."

And George barks.

"George..." Oscar sighs. "Actual words, please."

George makes a face. He doesn't want to use actual words. He doesn't want to leave this headspace.

But the way Oscar is looking at him...

"Yeah, I'm good," George forces himself to say the words. His voice is hoarse from the way he strained himself over Oscar's cock and the lack of actual words for a while now.

"Okay," Oscar exhales. "We can... continue if you want to," he offers awkwardly.

And George eagerly jumps onto the opportunity. He goes back to his previous state, no proper thoughts just enjoying the moment and submitting to Oscar.

Oscar wipes the rest of his tears off as George goes to wrap his lips around him.

"Good boy, such a good boy," Oscar whispers softly. "Yeah, just like that."

He was never the most vocal during sex, hell, he could probably manage without saying a word. But he really can't help it when George is kneeling in front of him so prettily and straining himself just to make Oscar feel good.

His fingers tangle up George's soft brown hair, gently guiding him and... and also stopping him before he could start pushing himself to take more than he can.

Eventually, Oscar's fingers loosen in his hair. And George really wants to try again. But Oscar told him no. And he is supposed to be a good boy for him. So he doesn't do it.

He glances up at Oscar as he keeps his head moving.

"Fuck," Oscar breathes at the sight. The way George can look is always special... but when his lips are wrapped around his cock is truly something else. "Keep eye contact," he manages to croak out.

George gladly obeys.

His jaw goes slack as he moves, trying to swallow as much as possible of Oscar without gagging. It's pathetic, really. He feels himself tearing up again.

"Good boy, you're doing great," Oscar praises him. But it feels like he's just talking out of pity.

George feels a tear falling, but doesn't stop.

"George, don't force yourself," Oscar says, but his words fall to deaf ears.

Because George tries it again.

"Fuck, you really can't behave," Oscar groans.

George growls around him as he attempts to pull him away.

"This is what you want?" Oscar asks and places a hand on George's head and pushes him downwards.

And yes, that's exactly what George wants. He moans. He knows he's taking too much, but he doesn't care. He'll probably be able to handle it if it's not him who's controlling how much he takes.

So Oscar gives up on holding himself back. He grips George's hair, and holds his head in one place. Then thrust upwards.

George makes a muffled sound, somewhere between pain and pleasure.

"Take it," Oscar orders. "You asked for it."

He doesn't look at George as he keeps moving his hips. If he doesn't see the way George struggles, he won't be affected, at least that's his logic.

Because George is struggling. He tries to relax his jaw and throat, but Oscar's way too big. His lips stretch around him uncomfortably, it almost hurts… But he wants to please Oscar more than anything. He wants this. He wants Oscar to ruin his throat.

"Yeah, be a good boy," Oscar repeats himself as he keeps moving.

George can no longer even swallow his saliva properly. His drool is mixing with Oscar's precum, slowly dripping down on his chin as Oscar keeps practically fucking his throat.

It hurts. He can feel the need to gag. But Oscar doesn't allow him to do that, or pull away.

And George can't do anything but let him use his mouth the way he wants to. Take everything he needs.

"Fuck," Oscar moans, his hips stuttering. "I'm close..." 

Not that he even gives George a chance to pull back. To do anything besides taking it.

"You gonna be a good boy, right? You gonna swallow everything?"

George moans around him, trying to make it sound like agreeing.

Oscar pulls his mouth on himself fully, George almost fights back, pulling away. But Oscar's hips still and he moans his name.

George can feel his cock twitching in his mouth and throat, and the way his cum shoots down his throat.

"So good, so good for me," Oscar pants, his fingers finally loosening in George's hair.

His body goes slack, completely spent. He finally looks down at George, taking in his messed up form.

George can move on his own now. He only pulls back enough to clean Oscar off.

He can't help his disappointed expression that he couldn't properly taste him.

"Good boy," Oscar praises him.

George hums softly as he licks around Oscar's tip. His tongue dipping into the slit, then lips wrapping around it to gently suck on it.

"You're such a pretty mess," Oscar smiles at him lazily.

And he couldn't be more right. George is properly fucked out. His eyes are still teary and red, his cheeks stained with dried tears, his lips plump and red... and there's a mix of drool and cum dripping down from his chin.

"You did great," Oscar repeats in a hazed state. He can't even bring himself to say anything else besides praising George.

"Such a good pup."

George hums contently, nuzzling into Oscar's thigh.

It takes Oscar an embarrassingly long time to realise that George never actually got off.

He glances down at him, his fingers once again lost in the brown locks of George, gently scratching his scalp.

"Do you want to finish too, pup?" Oscar hums with a lazy expression. It feels like George sucked the life out of him in the best way possible.

George somehow, even after getting his throat fucked raw, manages to bark. It's pitiful at best.

"Oh, poor boy... I did a number on you, didn't I?" Oscar smiles at him, playing with his hair.

George nods with a soft whine.

"Poor thing..." Oscar repeats. "Do you need me to finish you or will you handle yourself?" he asks, twirling one of George's locks around his finger.

George tilts his head to the side. Back to that lost puppy look, and Oscar's sure just this sight could get him hard again if he really tried.

But George just keeps looking at him, eyes wide, still slightly red from crying and his long eyelashes are stuck together with dried tears.

Oscar almost feels sorry for him.

"Come on boy," he nudges George with his leg. "You know what I meant," he smiles at him.

He tugs on the leash, guiding George into a different position. Then slides his leg between George's, his shin presses right against George's neglected but very much hard cock.

George lets out a whine at the sudden contact. It's not like he forgot about his aching problem, but Oscar's jeans are rough and he's way too sensitive. He's sure he already made a mess on Oscar's jeans just from this small touch.

"So?" Oscar looks at him expectingly. "Will this do it?"

George bites his lips. He definitely wouldn't mind more... but as for now, this is more than enough.

He lets out a small sound and finally moves.

His head falls forward, onto Oscar's thigh soon. The moans and whimpers that are leaving his lips are pathetic at best. But he doesn't care, the only thing he cares about is Oscar's hand in his hair and more importantly, rubbing himself against Oscar.

"Good boy," Oscar hums, moving his leg a bit so George can hump it more easily.

Because let's face it. George is humping his leg like an actual dog in heat.

Oscar watches with a smile, it's... weirdly endearing.

"Poor pup, so desperate," he cooes. His fingers are gently scratching at George's scalp behind his ear.

George whimpers again. He can feel Oscar's jeans getting damp from his precum. And he's sure he's drooling on his thigh too.

But Oscar isn't complaining so George doesn't care either.

His arm wraps around Oscar's leg, his hips not stilling for even a moment.

The rough material of the jeans makes George want to tear up again, but the need to finish is much stronger.

His knees are already hurting from kneeling for so long, and now his muscles join the club too.

He lets his jaw go slack, now not even attempting to not soak Oscar's jeans with his drool. 

George's fingers dig into Oscar's flesh as he gets closer to the edge.

He's not thinking anymore, especially not when he sinks his teeth into Oscar's thigh.

"Ouw, fuck, George," Oscar jerks away, barely avoiding to kick him in the process. Not that the bite was that unpleasant, but it very much took him by surprise.

George slows down, but can't stop fully. He blinks up at Oscar with blown pupils, clearly confused. He looks like a puppy who doesn't understand what they did wrong, but knows they must've done something.

"You can't just bite me," Oscar hisses, rubbing his thigh where George sunk his sharp teeth into him.

George seems sorry. He nudges at Oscar's hand, nuzzling his nose against the wet patch on his jeans. He lets out a soft sound, and... and licks at it.

"It's fine, it's okay, just... warn me next time?" Oscar pushes his head away. Getting licked through his jeans is... weird. Even considering the situation.

George nods and presses his face back into Oscar's thigh as his pace picks back up.

He moans shamelessly, not holding back a single sound.

And as Oscar keeps watching him, he can't help but feel proud that he's the one who makes the George Russell fall apart like this.

"So desperate," he says, his fingers playing with George's hair again.

It's weirdly idyllic.

Well, idyllic in a way a situation can be where someone's humping your leg.

George whimpers as the jeans rub against his sensitive, reddened tip. He just wants to cum already. So he keeps moving against Oscar's leg, letting out pathetic little cries.

"Come on, pup," Oscar pulls on the leash for no apparent reason. "Cum already, cum for me..."

And that's all what George needs, his permission, and maybe also the way Oscar presses his shin firmer against his cock.

He lets out a string of soft whimpers and whines as he finishes. His hips don't stop for not even a second. He keeps rubbing against Oscar's jeans even after he's done, and only the aftershocks left in his body.

He wants to see the mess he made on Oscar, but he can't bring himself to move.

All thoughts left his head, only leaving the pleasure behind. He pants softly against Oscar's thigh and that's all he does.

Thankfully, Oscar is back connected to the real world enough to act for George too.

"Good boy, you did great," Oscar keeps repeating, whispering softly to him as he moves around.

George blinks up at Oscar, exhausted, when he brushes the sweaty strands of hair out of his blue eyes.

"Yes, you did," Oscar nods again, kissing George gently. Well, it barely even qualifies as a kiss. It's more like pressing their lips together and keeping them there for a few seconds.

George makes a soft sound, but nothing else.

Oscar slowly pulls him up from the floor. And he tries not to wince when he notices how red George's knees are.

"Poor thing," he says, letting his fingers gently caress George's nearly bruised knees.

Oscar moves George around with why too much ease for the situation, but George can't bring himself to intervene.

Instead, he lets Oscar pull him up into his lap, wrap his arms around him. George leans onto Oscar's shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of his neck.

Oscar rubs his back in slow circles and keeps repeating reassuring words.

George barely even registers them at this point.

He comes back to reality many minutes later, he probably even took a short nap in Oscar's lap.

Not that Oscar was complaining.

"How are you feeling?" Oscar asks carefully.

He half expects George to still refuse to use words. So it's a pleasant surprise to actually hear his voice.

"Good," George says, well, more like croaks. He hasn't done anything yet to help his throat recover.

"Did I...?" Oscar tries to inquire. "Well, you know... Did I do okay? Was it okay for you?"

"Yeah," George nods, still tired. "You were good."

Then after a moment of silence, he adds:

"I hope I wasn't too much either."

"No!" Oscar reacts so harshly he almost even scares himself. He didn't plan to yell... it just happened.

George chuckles softly, pressing his face back into Oscar's neck.

"Sorry, it was..." Oscar clears his throat awkwardly, his arms still tightly around George. "It was good. I enjoyed it. It was a bit... new, yeah, definitely new at first. But I liked it."

"I'm glad," George whispers into his skin.

It's not that he's embarrassed, but he's suddenly very aware of the fact that Oscar's fully dressed and well, he only has that freaking collar on.

"Yeah?" Oscar hums, not even really looking for an answer.

Minutes pass in silence, Oscar keeps caressing George's back absentmindedly.

"So... uhm..." he breaks the silence eventually. "Maybe... let's take a bath?" he offers.

"Yeah, sounds good," George agrees and reluctantly starts pushing himself off Oscar's lap.

"Come on, I'll help," Oscar smiles and takes George's hand so he wouldn't stumble.