Only You (Matty Healy/George Daniel)

15: Saved

Matty starts out slow, inching his fingers down his stomach as his other hand pinches at his nipples softly. It doesn't feel nearly as intense as it does when George is the one tweaking the hard nubs, but it's good enough to have Matty panting loudly.

He sighs happily as feels hot skin and wiry curls against his hand, closing his eyes in an attempt to pretend that it's George doing this to him instead of himself. A part of Matty thinks it's a bit fucked up that he's imagining his best friend while having a wank, but with the recent agreement they've put in place, it makes sense that he's associating such things with George.

Still - it's not something he's done before, and he feels a bit filthy doing so, but it's not like anyone has to know what he's thinking of, and the dull flood of embarrassment is nowhere near strong enough to make him stop.

Matty's already aching and fidgety by the time he wraps his palm around the base of his cock, gathering some of the precome that's dripping from the tip before starting up a steady motion that's causing his stomach to jump and his thighs to tense up from just a few strokes.

Matty places his other hand around his throat, squeezing lightly every now and then. He isn't sure why he started this habit, but he likes the added sense of constriction, not that he's choking himself very hard, but something about being pinned down and overwhelmed gets Matty off, even if it's only himself that's doing the action.

Matty's cock is swollen and leaking, his breath coming in short gasps that he traps in his throat with a tightening of his fingers, his back arching and his balls tensing up when the door lock disengages with a sharp click, freezing Matty in his tracks as he watches George enter the small room.

Matty flushes hard, his chest staining red as George stops the second he spies Matty in such a compromising position, his mouth hanging open as Matty sits there silently, his hand slowly falling away from his cock as he waits for George to say something.

When George remains speechless, Matty considers getting up, maybe covering himself, or even better, asking George to finish him off, but before he can do any of those things, George makes his way to Matty's bedside in a series of long, choppy steps, his eyes darkening with lust as Matty groans low in his throat, his adam's apple pushing against the palm that's still pressed there.

Matty shifts to the left slightly when George climbs onto the mattress, sitting on his knees as he stares down at Matty likes he's the most wondrous thing he has ever seen. Matty both cringes and preens under the attention, a part of him feeling more exposed than he ever has in his life being caught doing something so intimate, but it's George, and Matty finds himself less mortified than he thought he would be. It's nothing George hasn't heard before after all, but actually being caught is a first for Matty.

"Was wondering where you went," George murmurs, his gaze jumping between Matty's face and his cock as if he can't decide which one he'd rather look at more. "Is this how you usually do it?" George questions softly, the pads of his fingers running across the area of Matty's neck that isn't covered by his own hand.

"Sometimes." Matty shrugs, squirming with agitation when George does nothing else, his cock still hard as ever even with the unexpected interruption, and Matty would very much like to finish what he's started sometime soon. "More so lately," Matty admits, scooting over a bit more so his arm is pressing against the rips in George's jeans, the skin on skin contact sending a shudder down his spine that he does his best to hide.

"Keep going," George whispers in a strained voice after another tense period of silence has passed, which wasn't what Matty expected to hear, but he can't deny the searing rush of heat that shoot through his veins when George settles back onto his heels, patiently waiting to see if Matty will comply with his request.