[If Danny had chosen to walk out right then, Corry would've been -- well, disappointed, of course, but resigned. He knew all about compulsions and control, and he didn't want this to be either. The voluntary surrender was so much sweeter, felt so much more satisfying.
Especially from Danny -- rising up on his toes in his knock-off boots, kissing Corry with a sweetness that hasn't been anywhere close to him in years. There's a soft, pleased hum as Corry ducks his head into that kiss, hands coming up to find that smooth slope at the small of Danny's back, pulse quickening a bit at how small he really is. Narrow back, slim hips, slim shoulders, sweet features. It's easier to see in the elevator lighting, easier still in the hall as they finally reach the penthouse floor.]
No, you aren't. [Corry hums it, arm around Danny's waist, nuzzling into his hair, breathing in the scent of club sweat and heat and liquor.] While yes, I have money, I'm not expecting that to do the talking for me. I intend to prove myself in every way you'll allow.
[The room is neutrally tasteful, no sign it's been lived in, aside from a still-packed suitcase to one side. Corry would offer a drink, would settle in to a night of slow seduction if it were anyone else. But Danny makes him...impatient. Greedy. Hungry.
So instead he pauses just inside the door and turns Danny to face him for another kiss, this one slow and simmering and deep. Both big hands slip up under Danny's loose shirt, stroking over his stomach, his hips.] Can I take this off?
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Especially from Danny -- rising up on his toes in his knock-off boots, kissing Corry with a sweetness that hasn't been anywhere close to him in years. There's a soft, pleased hum as Corry ducks his head into that kiss, hands coming up to find that smooth slope at the small of Danny's back, pulse quickening a bit at how small he really is. Narrow back, slim hips, slim shoulders, sweet features. It's easier to see in the elevator lighting, easier still in the hall as they finally reach the penthouse floor.]
No, you aren't. [Corry hums it, arm around Danny's waist, nuzzling into his hair, breathing in the scent of club sweat and heat and liquor.] While yes, I have money, I'm not expecting that to do the talking for me. I intend to prove myself in every way you'll allow.
[The room is neutrally tasteful, no sign it's been lived in, aside from a still-packed suitcase to one side. Corry would offer a drink, would settle in to a night of slow seduction if it were anyone else. But Danny makes him...impatient. Greedy. Hungry.
So instead he pauses just inside the door and turns Danny to face him for another kiss, this one slow and simmering and deep. Both big hands slip up under Danny's loose shirt, stroking over his stomach, his hips.] Can I take this off?