Dont read this, this is just for stories i want read

Literal Attraction

How he wished he was fully blind instead of colour blind at this point.

Having his thoughts render him to a walking shell of a man, it took him a while to realise he had passed the bench and was walking further away from it.

Weirdly, his brain took longer to process it because he didn't stop moving, and in doing so he collided rather roughly into another person.

"What the fuck-" George mumbled, slightly dazed.

Neither man had been hurt or had really moved, but as the hit was unexpected, they both took a moment to register their surroundings.

When they both looked up at each other, the first thing they noticed was their wrists.

Like a magnet, every time they tried pulling away, their wrists were brought back together unwillingly.

Wait, hold the fuck up.

When their eyes met, George was dazed again.

Dirty blonde hair ruffled upwards framed a heavenly face, one that made his knees weak. Bright green eyes combined with lips he wanted to touch and a jawline that looked like it could cut him rendered the words he tried to say useless.

Both men stood silently startled in the middle of the crowd, ignoring each brush past of a stranger on their shoulders as they both recognised each other as soulmates.

Holy mother of fuck he was hot.

The bracelets emitted a low tone and the magnetism was turned off, allowing George to pull back and panic about what to do now.

"Are you the guy from the milkshake stall?"

George flushed slightly.

"You saw that?"

"If you mean when you flipped off a couple that shared their milkshake in front of you when they turned away then yeah, I saw that." He huffed

"If you'd have had to listen to their story about meeting each other under a gazebo under the stars then you'd have flipped them off too."

"You want to grab dinner?" He mumbled, a barely visible blush spreading across his cheeks.
"Depends who's paying."

"My treat, soulmate."

"My name's George."

"Clay." He held out his hand and George took it, his mind immediately going to other places as he shakes the other mans rough hand.

Maybe it was the weeks of being pent up talking or the fact that Clay was his soulmate, but George wanted those hands all over him.

They both let go and Clay turned, motioning for George to follow.

After a few minutes, they had both cleared the crowd of people and were standing outside a small café.

Clay brought George to a secluded booth and the two of them sat down, awkwardly shuffling to sit next to each other.

A few lingering touches and looks throughout the evening was riling George up, they had eaten  from the limited menu at the café and both men found themselves looking to the bathroom every now and then.

"So what do we do now?" Clay's eyes shifted back to George.

"You could pay for the food."

Clay laughed slightly: "Fuck you"

"Kind of wish you would."

They stared at one another for a long moment before scrambling to their feet to stumble to the nearest bathroom.

Running into a stall, Clay pinned George to the door to finally fucking kiss him.

George's hands were on Clay immediately, dragging over his ribs and down his sides to his jeans. He hesitated only a moment before sliding his fingers under the band.

Clay kissed him hard, groaning into the feel of George's soft hands.

George broke the kiss and looked up at Clay, he was stupidly, unfairly attractive, packed with muscle and broad shouldered.

Noticing his distraction, Clay moved to George's neck, leaving marks along flushed collarbones.

George seized below him, stuttering a gasping moan, body arching from the sudden pleasured shock.

"Hand's above your head." Clay ordered, pulling down both his and Georges boxers.

Slowly, George lifted his arms and grabbed his wrists, tucking them behind his head against the door.

"Good."

Clay wasted no time pushing his now aching dick against Georges, he bit his lip and forced himself to look up so he could watch the stuttered rise and fall of George's chest as he sucked in wordless, gasping lungful's of air, the way his stomach tensed with each shift of Clay's experienced hips.

Clay wrapped a hand around them both and hissed, rutting his hips faster and harder, letting George moan directly into his ear from the feeling.

"So fucking perfect." Clay muttered.

George whined, a high, breathy, open-mouthed thing that left Clay shaking.

George's legs began twitching, blood roared in his ears, deafening him as he desperately tried to catch his breath and keep up with Clay's erratic thrusts.

His climax hit him like a punch to the chest, driving the air from his lungs and sweeping his feet out from under him, he nearly collapsed, body jerking with the force of it as he spilled across Clay's abdomen.

Clay let out a cut off moan as the sight of George, his vision leaving him as he came, holding George impossibly closer through it.

When feeling finally returned his limbs, Clay eased himself back, and smoothed his hands up George's thighs, petting at the twitching, overstimulated muscles.

"You okay Georgie?"

He was given a low groan as an answer and he hummed to himself, admiring his work on George's now bruised and hickey covered neck.

"We should clean up." Clay sighed.

"Counter argument, we take a nap." The smaller male rested his head in the crook of Clay's neck, clearly fucked out.

"Maybe when we get back to my apartment."
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