EIGHTH WONDER; memeulous & imallexx

12; firsts

-could you do one where George bottoms with Alex for the first time?

request from tumblr uwu

i've said it b4 and i'll say it again fellas: you will literally have to pry bottom george from my cold dead hands and imallexx officially said top rights for twinks

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"I'm...Alex, I can't lie. I'm nervous." George admits sheepishly. He's not afraid of switching it up or regretting ever agreeing to it, – it was his idea, after all – but it's hard not to overthink things like this. It's hard not to think of him possibly making a fucking fool of himself.

"What've you got t'be nervous about?" Alex furrows his eyebrows at him and pauses where he's taking his sweatpants off at the end of the bed.

"I dunno, like–What if I'm really shit at it?" George ponders with a sigh, leaning back into the ridiculously soft pillows of Alex's bed. He's surprised Alex hasn't scolded him yet for not drying his hair fully before even going near the pillows. "What if you think, 'Oh, wait a second, George isn't actually the shagmaster I think he is?'"

Alex laughs and scrunches his nose up at him. "Trust me, George, I don't think of you as a shagmaster or anythin'. No offence." He waves at George and kneels on the end of the bed, fumbling for the lube bottle and muttering about how he hates transparent bottles against white sheets.

"Oi, I do take offence to that, actually." He huffs at the younger man. "Anyway, y'know what I mean. I don't do...this. Like, ever."

"Y'don't get fucked up the arse all the time?" Alex says, voice pitched in mock-questioning. "I thought YouTube did that on a regular basis."

"Oh, fuck off." George kicks him in the knee and grins when Alex yelps as his balance is misaligned. "Just because you're earning the same as Elon Musk a month, doesn't mean you can make fun of my unfair copyright strikes."

Alex only rolls his eyes at that and clicks opens the lube, looking as casual as somebody possibly can whilst almost fully-naked and handling a bottle of Durex. George knows he's being more talkative than usual, and he blames it entirely on nerves. He doesn't need to be nervous; he knows this, and it's only what they've always done. Except it's just...reversed.

"Can you maybe get your boxers off now?" Alex points out, and gestures to George's lower-half. "If you're still up for it."

"Of course I am. Don't doubt me, buster." George snaps and wriggles out of his underwear before settling back into the plush bedding. How does Alex do this when he's the one getting fucked? What does he do with his hands? Christ, George can't even remember what he himself does in the opposite position, let alone what Alex does in his.

Alex makes a noise of agreement and moves between George's knees, gently nudging one leg farther apart. George can't do anything to stop the blush from building on his cheeks, even if he doesn't actually have anything to be embarrassed about.

"I'm gonna start with one, yeah?" Alex says, suddenly serious. A hand is soothingly rubbing circles onto George's thigh, and it brings more comfort than he expected it would.

"Well, yeah. It's basic numbers, Alex." George replies snarkily. He can back chat all he likes, but they both know there's no way he could disguise the deep breath he takes when a cold, lube-coated finger skirts around his rim. "Y'know – one, two, three."

"Four, five?" Alex smirks.

"Don't push it." George says and throws an arm over his face when the finger pushes in suddenly. It's not too bad, honestly, just a little unfamiliar. He doesn't know why Alex bitches about it sometimes, if this is all it is.