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Of Curls and Cuddles: smut

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Bob continues to nuzzle his chest, trying to get into a more comfortable position, and belatedly, George notices his hair is rubbing at quite sensitive spots and his nipples are perking up. He inwardly curses his body for reacting at the most inappropriate time and wills himself to relax. Bob appears not to have noticed this, and continues shifting against George chest until his nipples are pebbled, and George feels his pants become slightly uncomfortable. Bob opens his eyes, and for the first time since knocking on his door, George wishes Bob was still asleep. He looks confused for a moment, then it dawns on him and George blushes and feels heat crawl up his neck at the scrutiny he's being given. Bob doesn’t say anything, just smirks, lowers his head down while keeping eye contact. and begins licking down his chest in little kitten licks, tantalizingly slow. A part of George relaxes, grateful their friendship hasn't been ruined, while another part tenses up at how amazing it feels.

"Have you been tested?" He manages to ask. Bob nods.

"I'm clean too." They get back to it.

Bob circles the rim of his nipple with his tongue without taking it into his mouth. The lack of attention makes George arch his back and grasp at Bob’s curls.

He gasps. “Please Bob, please!” Bob grins lazily at him, now completely awake. For the first time, he speaks, His voice is gruff from sleep but still manages to send the blood shooting down to George's groin so fast he feels light headed.

“Now now, George, my boy,” he says mockingly, though not maliciously, “stay still or I might have to tie you down.” The thought sends another rush of heat down to his groin, and he’s torn between wanting to be good for George or wanting to be tied down. The decision is made for him when Bob finally takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks hard. He bucks upwards, and laments the loss of that warm wet mouth on him as Bob pulls off and smirks.

“I think some discipline would be nice wouldn’t it?” He reaches down to George’s pants and pulls off his belt.

“Put your hands above your head for me would you, Georgie?” He does, groaning at the low timbre of Bob's voice. Bob wraps the belt around them, secures them to the headboard, then straddles him. He grinds down a couple times, and George tries to push back up, but can't. His pants are now painfully tight, but Bob doesn't seem to be in much of a hurry. He leans back down, and starts lavishing George's right nipple with attention. George pulls desperately at the belt, needing something, anything to hold on to, but it stays firm and unyielding.

"Please, Bobby! Wanna touch you!" Bob pulls up again, and George could curse him for it, as cold air hardens his nipple even more.

"But you've been naughty though George, and you sure you deserve it?" George is about to reply, but Bob bends down and kisses him. It's a bit soft at first, and unsure, but George opens up quickly and arches upwards. He moans into Bob's mouth, and is rewarded with a sound of arousal. Their tongues battle, and Bob eventually breaks the kiss for air. George thinks he looks beautiful, breathless, with his lips plump and red. Bob leans down, and starts peppering kisses from his chest towards his navel. He reaches the waistband of his pants, and tugs playfully at them with his teeth. His long nimble fingers deftly undo the buttons and George lifts his hips so Bob can pull them off. His cock strains against his underwear.

"Why are you still dressed?" he says, meaning to sound teasing, but instead, it comes out breathless and needy.

"Was hopin' you'd ask," He says in a low, seductive voice. He pulls off his shirt in one smooth, revealing a smooth expanse of skin that George wishes he could touch and worship. The sweatpants come off next, and George is very pleased to see that he sleeps commando. Bob too, is hard, and his cock bounces against his stomach as he eyes George somewhat nervously. George doesn't see what Bob has to be ashamed of, he's very well endowed, and he makes sure to voice his thoughts.

Bob blushes, then leans down again to straddle him. He mouths at the fabric of his underwear, soaked through with precome and George groans appreciatively. The teasing seems to go on for quite a long time until George is begging him in little noises of want, unable to form coherent sentences.

Bob looks entirely too composed for all of this when he says, "Well, if you insist." He pulls off George's underwear completely, and swallows him down to the root in on motion. His world flashes white for a moment, and he lets out a wordless shout. He has to focus hard not to come yet, because the warm wet cavern of Bob's mouth is perfect, with just the right amount of pressure and he can see Bob bobbing his head up and down on his length. He twirls his tongue around the tip, and George sees stars. He bucks up, but Bob puts a hand on his waist, keeping him still, controlling him, setting his own pace. Then, he swallows. It's ecstasy, and George sobs, hoping it will never end. Bob reaches up to fondle his balls and swallows again, and George nearly comes for the second time. Just as he can feel the familiar heat building up in his stomach, Bob pulls off with a wet pop.

"No, no, no, no, no. Please Bob, please, please please. Don't stop" He doesn't even know what he's begging for now, but he's settle for anything.

"As much as I love seeing you like this and tasting you, I'd like to do something else that I'm sure you'll love George." He gets off, and George wants to reach down and finish the job himself because he's so achingly hard, and he probably would, but he can't so instead he tugs at the belt again. Bob goes to rifle through one of the drawers and comes up with lube. Maybe he doesn't want George to cum in his mouth so he'll finish him off with a handjob instead? However, when Bob straddles his waist again, his cock barely brushing against the back of Bob's arse, he's slightly confused because there's no way Bob can give him a handjob in that position. Bob offers his fingers to George, and he sucks at them, confusion forgotten, as he watches Bob's eyes darken with lust. They're pulled out, and he watches Bob pour lube onto his palm, then slick up his fingers and it's only then that he realizes what Bob is going to do. He nearly sobs, thinking that this has got to be one of the hottest things he’s ever seen. Bob sinks a finger into his own hole and moans. He's pushes in and out and gets to the second knuckle, before pushing in another finger and scissoring himself.

George hates the belt with an intense passion right now, wanted to touch Bob so badly, to feel him, but at least he can still watch Bob's fingers disappearing into his arse as it stretches around them. When Bob puts in the third finger, George realizes he must be intentionally avoiding his prostate and is even more turned on by the trust he puts in George for his pleasure. He's rocking his hips upwards with the rhythm of Bob's fingers, trying to find enough friction, but the barely there touch of Bob's arse isn't enough. He knows he must look desperate, humping the air, and trying to find release, but he can't find it in himself to care. Finally, Bob pulls his fingers out.

"Ready George?" George whimpers a bit, nodding his head frantically. Bob impales himself onto George's cock, and George is briefly concerned, but he seems to be getting off on the pain so he stores that information away for later. It's perfect, and George feels like he's finally found a piece of himself that's been missing for such a long time. When Bob starts moving, his mouth open in soundless pleasure, it gets even better. He feels every inch of Bob's hole as it drags up and down his cock, and pushes his hips up to meet Bob. On the third thrust, Bob cries out, voice ragged with pleasure. George grins. He's found his prostate. He makes sure to hit it every single time, and Bob's voice gets hoarser and hoarser with each breathless cry.

"Kiss me," he whispers, and Bob bends down to press their lips together. His fingers, tangled up in the belt, have finally managed to undo the buckles, and George pulls it loose, and buries his hands in Bob's hair. Bob makes a brief sound of surprise, before George flips them both over and cages him between his body and the bed, before stilling his thrusts.

"George..." groans Bob.

"Well, this looks new," he grins widely, "what was it that you wanted Bob, love?" Bob tries to continue thrusting, but George stills him easily now that he's on top.

"George, please!"

"Please what? I haven't heard any requests in there."

"Georgie!"

"Yes, Bobby?" He smirks outwardly, for this game of theirs, but inwardly, he's thinking about how he's so different from the composed quiet, Bob Dylan that everyone else knows, and George is grateful to see this picture. Bob panting slightly, so open and honest and wanting.

"Please," Bob moans, "fuck me."

"Gladly," he smiles, softer now, and Bob smiles back up at him, until his next thrust hits his prostate dead on and it turns into a choked off cry of pleasure. George isn't so nice after that. He makes sure to almost, but not quite hit his prostate every single time, until Bob is a babbling mess of "please" and "George".

He relents eventually, and focuses on that sweet spot again, until Bob's head is thrown up, his neck bared. George leans down and sucks bruises into his skin, relishing in the feeling of Bob. Their pace gets faster and more erratic, and George feels heat pool in his groin, can feel his stomach tightening. An idea from earlier sparks something in him, and he leans his weight on one hand and spanks Bob's arse with the other. He comes untouched, on the rush of pain, and the feeling of his tight hole spasming around George brings him to tip over the peak as well, his world whiting out in a brief flash of glory.

George collapses, careful not to crush Bob beneath him, and leans over to kiss him. It's much more sloppy and open-mouthed, but George relishes in it anyway. He breaks the kiss, and sucks on a patch of skin on Bob's neck. He tastes of salt and the mild tang of the cheap soap he always uses, and it's just so purely Bob, George can feel something sappy coming out of his mouth before he even knows what it is he's going to say.

"I love you, Bobby."

Bob smiles up at him, so achingly sweet, and says, "love you too Georgie."