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matty is just everywhere.
he's red lips and flushed skin and the smell of cigs and apples in george's pillow and he's always been fucking everywhere since they moved in together.
right now he's in a sheer flower printed shirt that's unbuttoned down to his bellybutton and black jeans with a single hole on the knee and it's-
it's really not george's fault when he stops him in the middle of the too small kitchen to grab his face and kiss him stupid.
he tastes toothpaste and matty drops his mug on the counter to hold onto george's sides and pull their bodies together. it feels familiar even though they haven't done this since that night in hann's car about five months ago, high off their asses (george finds out sober feels so much better because he can still feel matty everywhere but he's so much more tangible now, so close and so soft and so fucking pretty).
matty opens his mouth wide, sucking george's bottom lip into his mouth, eager to please in a way that's so matty that it sends george's blood flowing south in the speed of light. they're panting and licking and that's- there's teeth involved and he never wants to not be doing this with matty, god. still he forces himself to pull away, licking over his bottom lip to collect the spit from there, and they need to talk because he needs this to be at least semi-permanent, needs to know that matty's on the same page and-
"bloody hell, george" matty breathes, blinking. his adam's apple bobs when he swallows. "what was that for?"
"you- i don't know, fuck." it all feels blurry and hurried and dizzy and he forces himself to take a breath, staring intently at the chipped wooden floor. "you look good."
matty's gaze is heavy on him and he feels scrutinised, small and fucking ridiculous even though he's got at least seven inches on matty and he hadn't been the one to initiate it the first time they kissed.
"d'ya fancy me, george?" he asks, and how he manages to stay confident is something george will never understand 'cause he's a fucking mess when it comes to matty. (george looks up, matty's hair is falling over his eyes. he moves to push it back on instinct, keeps his hand there, lightly scratching and letting his fingers tangle in the dark curls). the way matty's lids fall shut and he just breathes, trying not to purr, gives george enough confidence to step closer, tugging on the hair he's got between his fingers, prompting matty to open his eyes. he does and george is hit with how fucking gone he looks, eyes dazed, pupils dilated and little breaths escaping his parted lips. he moves in and runs his tongue over matty's bottom lip, shameless, filthy, wet, perfect. matty just opens wider, letting george's tongue move through the seam of his lips before he sucks it into his mouth.
"fancy you- yeah." he manages and matty groans, reaching for the hem of george's shirt and lifting it over his head, mumbles "fucking idiot" before trailing his blunt nails down george's chest, over his nipples and hips and oh- he's tugging george's sweatpants down and pressing the heel of his hand- oh.
"fuckfuck-" he's incoherent and needy, doesn't give a fuck because it clearly pleases matty, who buries his face in george's neck to lick over the skin messily, sucking until there's at least three angry red blooming hickeys and fuck if that doesn't get george going. he grips matty's hips tightly, warning, and matty just goes pliant, sighing and resting his forehead on george's shoulder, waiting.
"bed." george whispers and then they're stumbling down the hall, shedding clothes and breathing into each other's mouths and george no longer feels sober; he feels high, so high on the smell of sweat and nicotine and- the fucking apples.
matty's writhing under him, so /impatient/, and george ducks his head to taste the salt on his skin, letting his tongue circle and tease one of his nipples and licking over that stupid tattoo. he's moving lower and sucking on the skin of his hips and matty just feels so good under him. so fucking right he kind of can't believe it- just wants it so much.
"fuck" matty's watching him, head raised from the pillow, looking so fucked and george hasn't even got a hand on him yet. "yeah sugar, look so good" he mocks, exaggerating the rasp in his voice, chuckles while nosing at the bulge between matty's legs. matty bites his lip in faux innocence and fuck- george wants to wreck him. he doesn't waste a second, pushing his underwear down his hips and wrapping a hand around his dick- god, he's hard already, flushed and leaking and gorgeous. george sticks his tongue out, opening his mouth wide to show it off, smirking when matty lifts his hips, "so fucking eager, calm the fuck down" but he doesn't give matty a chance to answer and licks a stripe from the base to the head, wetting it, teasing, before wrapping his mouth around it. he fucking loves the burn, the stretch of his jaw when matty shamelessly starts fucking his mouth and says something that sounds vaguely like george's name and a string of 'fuck fuck fuck me's.
he keeps bobbing his head, licking and sucking and hollowing his cheeks, eyes on matty's and soon he feels the stutter on the rythm of his hips. "don't wanna come- george" he breathes and tugs george off his dick by the hair with a popping sound that's so filthy george presses the heel of his hand against his own dick, biting his - red, raw, stretched - lips and letting matty pull him up into a rushed kiss (so fucking good, spit mixing with the taste of matty on their tongues). "wanna mark you- gonna mark you" george says before his teeth are closing over the skin of matty's neck and it looks so red it's gotta hurt but matty just shoves a hand through his own hair, hips stuttering and he looks so ridiculous and so hot, fucking the air like that, so desperate.
george has to physically tear himself from matty's body to grab a condom from the nightstand drawer, blindly reaching for the packet of lube he remembers finding there a few days ago. matty is watching him when he comes back and he looks so trusting and george- george kind of loves him a whole fucking lot (don't you mind?).
he opens him up slowly, taking his time with the sole purpose of driving matty crazy, loving the wrecked sounds he makes and the way he throws his head back and exposes his neck. he lets himself in when matty complains - "doesn't get more open than this george, fuck's sake just fuck me" - and then his balls are touching matty's arse and he feels like he could die. matty's gone completely silent, mouth open and flushed pink chest heaving, waiting. george runs his hands up from matty's bent knees all the way to his lips and- he swears to god, matty just takes them into his mouth and sucks on them, cheeks hollowing and eyes closing and george thinks he could write about this- the way matty looks while being fucked. he might.
"move- now, george" he says, kissing george's thumb before removing the hand from his mouth and linking their fingers together and george does, snapping his hips in tight little thrusts. he knows matty's trying to contain himself, so he drapes his body over matty's and licks the shell of his ear, loving the way he shivers from head to toe and sighs. george links the fingers from his other hand with matty's and lifts both their arms over his head, fucking him slow and good, whispers "so good, so fucking good" in matty's ear and watches him absolutely flush with the praise, rolling his hips to meet george's thrusts more enthusiastically and lifting his head to reach george's lips and bite them, smiling. george is fucking gone. he manages a "matty fuck- love you" and he's coming, the image of matty's self satisfied little smirk glued to his eyelids as he shuts his eyes and keeps fucking into him with lazy, teasing thrusts that brush over matty's prostate over and over again and reduce him to a moaning, squirming mess.
"george- george fuck, yes" he screams and then he's shooting white hot come over both their chests.
"shit, fuck matty" george kisses him, teeth clashing and spit coating their lips and then matty runs his hands down george's chest, gripping his hips and guiding him out with a tiny breath that george swallows greedily before pulling away to throw the condom somewhere on the floor, lying beside matty and feeling exhaustion seep into his bones.
"we just fucked" george breathes, eyes on the ceiling, and matty groans, turning on his side and burying his face in george's bicep. "your arse is going to be sore." matty whines in response, "fucking worth it, jesus george." and george smiles smugly, wrapping an arm around matty's waist and scooting down the bed a bit so his face is level with matty's and their noses are touching.
"love you. meant that." he whispers and matty swallows and runs a finger down george's cheek, eyes shut tightly.
"yeah- yeah. love you too." he says, wetting his lips and kissing george, intoxicating and sweet and still everywhere. "fucking scared though."
george nods because this thing between them is bigger and heavier than anything he's had with anyone before, simply because it's matty and george. he's kind of scared too.
"yeah. s'ok though. we're good." he kisses the tip of matty's nose. matty smiles sleepily, turning to face the wall and scooting closer and george immediately wraps an arm around his waist (instinct) and kisses the sweaty hair at back of his neck.
"good."
matty doesn't leave in the morning.