The name's Irish, yes. [Corry confirms this with a bemused smile, swirling the ice in his glass and watching the stranger -- watching Danny grin. Normally Corry's much more of an ass or legs kind of guy, and while he has some scientifically-formed assumptions about what might be hiding under Danny's loose clothes, he finds his gaze drawn again and again to the young man's mouth instead. Smiling, talking, sipping his drink, flirting?]
Would you, then? Enjoy a mouthful? [Corry teases it back with a wicked grin of his own. Oh, yes. Definitely flirting.
It's enough encouragement that Corry feels bold enough to reach out, thumb away a drop of bright green liquor resting on Danny's lower lip after his most recent sip. He lets his hand linger, fingers callused and warm, easily cradling Danny's chin, something deeply possessive in the gesture.] Danny. Pleasure to meet you. I'm not much of a dancer, but I have a feeling if I'm with you, nobody will be looking at me.
I like it. (Danny had never thought he had much to bring to the table. Then again, he rarely liked to think about his body if he could help it. It was easier having Corry focus on his face.
He smirks at the question. He plucks the cherry off the top of his drink and thoughtfully rests it against his lower lip before slowly sliding it into his mouth. He plucks the stem off and chews around the pit, swallowing, before sticking his tongue out with the pit at the tip. He plucks it off.)
I think I would.
(He drops the pit and stem onto a napkin.
Then Corry's hand is by his face and he's being touched by a man in a way he had only ever dreamed of. It catches him off guard that he winds up staring at Corry in an open, boyish look of wonder. He has never been possessed and suddenly, it's all he can really think about. He can feel himself starting to blush again.)
I think everyone here would look at you instead of me. You're kind of...You know.
[Corry watches quietly, thinking how intensely unfair it is that Danny can make even the most mundane tasks -- sipping a drink, eating fruit -- look absolutely delicious. His thoughts slip again to imagining that perfect, pretty, plush mouth on something else, and it's only Danny's bright grin that keeps him tethered to the moment.] You "think", hm? I suppose you might need some...practical evidence to be fully convinced.
[He lets his hand linger on Danny's face for a moment longer, thumb tracing over the line of his jaw, the soft line of his throat, feeling his pulse racing. The sweet, open innocence in those wide eyes is the kind of thing Corry could get addicted to very, very easily. He's torn between wanting to be gentle and wanting to absolutely wreck this beautiful, blushing boy.]
And I think you're completely unaware of your own appeal. Which works for my purposes, because I don't want to share you tonight. [He stands, slowly, drink in one hand, his other one sliding around to cradle the back of Danny's neck, prompting him to look upwards.] You can make it worth my while by letting me know what you think of that. Of me not sharing you.
[Softer, eyes dragging slowly over Danny's mouth, dragging down too the loose neck of his t-shirt, consuming every glimpse of skin with something almost ravenous:] Of me taking you home tonight.
I might. (He looks on the verge of laughter, but he doesn't get there, instead just smiling at Corry like he is truly putting on a one-man performance for Danny and Danny alone. He gazes at Corry, a bit struck by the way the man is looking at him, and in truth, he is wondering what it would be like to be pulled apart by Corry. If he would be rough or gentle.)
Luckily for you, I wasn't exactly looking at anyone in this place until I saw you. (Well, actually. He laughs then.) Or, I guess until I saw you seeing me.
(Then he realized that there was some sort of weird possibility here. He allows himself to be guided into looking up at Corry, and man, he's tall and handsome as hell and Danny has to remind himself that this guy probably was way too good for a bathroom blowjob.
Then Corry says that and Danny's smile fades, but not in any absence of joy. Quite the opposite. His pupils dilate and his mouth hangs open ever so slightly, his heart picking up. He stands up finally, almost dizzy with the surreal situation he was absolutely not expecting. A part of him wants to just scream uh, fuck yeah, take me home right now.
But then his brain catches up to reality and he blinks at Corry, suddenly a bit shy, a smile on his face again, but a bit cagey.)
Yeah, no. That's cool. (Give him a second to catch up. He's standing a bit straighter, leaning back into the bar, and he's thinking. He glances over his shoulder at the bartender and then back to the guy because well- well. Bridget's stupid statistics were rattling through his head and all of his mom's stranger danger bullshit and the whole...)
It's just, you know. (He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, suddenly feeling totally out of his depth.)
I'm not exactly...I'm sorta lacking some parts. So. My body might not live up to...whatever's going on in your head right now. (Okay, well, that speech probably could have gone better but now he's just giving Corry a strained smile and genuinely? Expecting some sort of rejection.)
It's cool if you're not into that sorta thing. I get it. You don't need to feel guilty or anything if you're not into certain genitalia. My sister says there's this whole thing where people can have genital preferences and do it in a non-transphobic way, but most people are pretty shitty about it, but I think there's some nuance there, so I'm not saying you're transphobic if you don't want me anymore, but it's just like...
(Danny, you are officially talking way too much. He clamps his mouth shut.)
[There's that smile again, bright and genuine, and those eyes fixed upwards in a way that makes Corry want to call a car immediately and get them both back to his hotel. While he's never been someone to deny his more carnal urges, Corry hadn't specifically set out to satisfy those tonight. He'd wanted a couple decent drinks, some eye candy, perhaps a steamy encounter in the bathroom.
But he wants more than that with Danny. He doesn't want to rush -- he wants to take his time, indulge in every inch of this beautiful boy's body, savor putting that awestruck, worshipful look on his face over and over. Corry wants the entire night, from right that second until the sun rises, and he doesn't want to share with anyone else.
Which is why he frowns a bit, almost petulant, when Danny steps backwards, away from his touch. At least, until he hears what the young man is trying to say. Corry tends not to make assumptions, not about what people might have beneath their clothes, but he'd had a faint idea -- mostly because of the way Danny had lit up at being called "he".
So he waits patiently, unable to hide the immensely fond twist of a smile at how Danny ends his rambling. It's -- so genuine, so authentic, in a way that's a stark contrast to the duplicitous, conniving types Corry’s gotten used to. Nobody who eats cherries like Danny does is 100% innocent, of course, but right now there's no artifice. Just a very anxious, unsure young man, bracing himself for a rejection.
Part of Corry wants to demand the names and locations of every person who'd ever made Danny feel like he had to expect rejection, like he had to justify his own existence. But another part wisely decides that it's better to set down his drink and reach out to gently take one of Danny's hands, sliding their fingers together.]
Darling, you don't have to worry about me not wanting you, let's get that established first off. Regardless of what your body looks like -- though I'll admit, I'm very excited at the possibility that I'll get to see for myself.
[A pause, thinking of the best way to word this, because Corry doesn't do great with vulnerable, but he wants to honor the fact that Danny's being just that.] I've been with...a lot of people, in my life. I'm old enough to know what I prefer. I like men, preferably men with mouths like sin and eyes that make me want to write a goddamn sonnet.
[He lifts Danny's hand to his lips, kissing the back of his wrist, gently, meeting those eyes with his warm, dark ones.] Men like you.
The music in the club fades away almost entirely and all Danny can really focus on is the shape and warmth of Corry's mouth on his hand. Danny stares at him, mouth slightly parted in mute surprise, and he can feel something deep down in the pit of his chest shift permanently. That awestruck look was in full force now, his eyes unblinking, staring up at Corry as if Corry had just tipped his world on its axis.
Which, in truth, he might as well have done.
It's funny because the rational part of him realizes that this could and probably was just a sex thing. Logically it made sense plenty of people would be fine sleeping with trans people and did so on a regular basis. But another part of him realized most people wouldn't bother with delivering that information in such a careful way, especially after such an embarrassingly vulnerable ramble like he'd spewed.
And especially not with a guy like Corry who was undeniably older, hotter, probably wealthier (which, really, everyone was wealthier than Danny), and far more experience. There was nothing really for him to gain from Danny and if he just wanted to fuck him, Danny was plenty willing enough that he didn't exactly need the effort of Corry's kindness. And Danny knew that the culture of gay men, queer men, was often blunt and to the point without any frills and with a certain harsh truth.
But there is none of that here. He realizes he's blushing hard and he winds up finally looking down, his heart going a mile a minute.)
You...(His voice trembles for a second. Then he's looking back up at Danny, a wide, genuine smile spreading across his face.)
Really talk like a total sap.
(But there's a certain glittering adoration on Danny's face, and he winds up pulling his hand away from Corry's grip. A moment later and he's closing the space between them, leaning up onto his toes, hands clenching up the front of Corry's shirt, and he kisses Corry right on his mouth.
It's a surprisingly soft kiss given the heat between his thighs, but it's a kiss of open appreciation and a promise: I'm yours as long as you want me.
He breaks the kiss, still on his toes, grin growing.)
[Corry's been kissed -- probably well over a hundred times in his life, in a variety of circumstances. He remembers his first one, of course and he remembers the more unpleasant ones. But most of them blur into a faceless, nameless haze between his teen years and the present, with only very few that stand out for being good.
This is one of them. Danny's shaky voice, his bright, dazzling grin, the way it transforms his entire face, crinkling the corners of his eyes and scrunching his nose, no artifice, no performance, just genuine joy. Danny rising up on his toes, gripping Corry's shirt in both hands and kissing him sweet and gentle, the way a first kiss should be, that earnest, soft emotion he hasn't felt in probably twenty years. Danny, warm and sweet and bright against him, lingering just long enough that Corry has time to slide a hand to his back, resting broad and warm between his shoulders.
There's a flicker of something warm and genuine in Corry's face as well -- not that he'd been lying or overexaggerating before, but he keeps such a tight grip on his emotions that he'd still kept them in check, even while being honest. He huffs out a laugh, reaching up to smooth his thumb along Danny's jawline again, gentle, featherlight.] Glad you approve.
Let's. For a bit. [Honestly, Corry could leave right that second and be perfectly happy tangled up in the back of a town car with Danny, but the show-off in him wants to be seen dancing with this beautiful, grinning, magnificent young thing before they retire for the night. So he grabs Danny's hand again, tugs him onto the dance floor -- not the direct center, towards one edge, with dimmer lights and heavier bass, so he can slide his hands back down the young man's back again, beginning to learn the shape of him beneath those baggy clothes.] This all right?
(For a bit. Danny could agree with that. Slipping away into the night with a total stranger hadn't exactly been part of the plan tonight, but he was quickly warming to the idea. Although his sister and mom were infinitely more wary of situations like these, Danny was reckless enough to find the idea more exciting than intimidating, even if he wasn't so sure he'd be able to live up to whatever this guy was used to.
But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it while it lasted. That he couldn't do his best. He follows after Corry obediently, and his arms automatically fold around Corry's neck.)
Yeah, that's fine.
(Better than fine. Danny's still grinning, his hips swaying to the music, and while he did bury himself in baggy clothes, there was an effortless seductive way in which he rolled his body against Corry's. He was self-aware of every inch of himself and knew how to use it in tandem with music. He mostly blamed that on a love for music rather than actually feeling sexy himself, but it's easy to get lost in the raspy voice singing over a dripping beat. It's easy to let himself get lost in the vibration of the music and the warmth of Corry's body.
His grin fades at some point, but the look left behind his face is one of open want and wonder, his eyes hooked on Corry's, unwavering now that he was looking at him.)
[Honestly, Corry isn't sure which idea he dislikes more -- Danny going home alone and unappreciated or Danny going home with someone who wouldn't treat him anywhere as good as Corry could. That face, those eyes, that mouth -- honestly, Corry's pretty sure there won't be a single thing about Danny that he won't immediately want to worship. The gentle slope of his back, his waist beneath his loose clothes, the languid way he rolls his hips are all enough to confirm that.
But the idea of someone else here, with their hands sliding down Danny's body, resting just above his ass, then slipping down to squeeze once, possessively -- yeah, okay, maybe Corry dislikes that idea more. He doesn't want to share. It's irrational and bordering on absurd, but part of him wants to make tonight so indelibly magnificent that Danny remembers him forever.
For now, though, he pulls Danny a little closer, hands traveling back to his ass, ducking his head to murmur against his ear:] You're making it very difficult to be patient until we get back to my hotel, darling. Is that on purpose? Because I wouldn't mind getting on my knees for you in the bathroom, just to take the edge off...
(When Corry's hand slides over his ass, Danny can feel his skin prickle with goosebumps. He's never been felt up before and especially never in a public place. The words murmured into his ears go straight to his groin, a hot, desperate feeling opening up inside of him. He can feel himself clenching up and his dance winds up stuttering a bit against Corry.)
It was- (Not on purpose, but now that he's thinking about it, maybe he had been trying. He grinds a bit more intentionally against Corry, dragging up against him. He tips his head back to look at Corry, his eyes dark and desperate.)
Maybe I just want you to do whatever you want with me tonight. (A slower grind.) Whenever and wherever you want.
[Corry lets out a soft, rough exhale, nearly a growl, one hand up under Danny's shirt, thumbing down the notches of his spine, settling at the small of his back.]
And maybe I don't want to share a single thing about you tonight. [His free hand comes up, cradles Danny's chin, holds him still effortlessly, taking in his heated gaze, those perfect parted lips. Thumb tracing Danny's lower lip, Corry rocks forward, presses flush against Danny and murmurs:] The only one who gets to hear how sweet you sound when you come is me.
[Then, with a smirk, Corry ducks down, kisses Danny again, this time slow and deep and filthy, tongue curling into his mouth, opening him up. It lingers, heedless of the music, not caring for anything except Danny in his arms, the way he sounds, the way he tastes. Corry pulls away, but only enough to ask:] Ready to get outta here, darlin'?
(That touch was absolutely electric and left Danny a bit breathless. He could only imagine how that hand would feel ghosting over the rest of his body, warm and encompassing. Danny is completely stolen by Corry, captivated enough that for a second, he can't think of anything to say at all.
Then his mind goes completely white and he's almost positive he can feel a slight trickle drip down the inside of a thigh. This is only confirmed when Corry kisses him like that and Danny's knees actually tremble. He kisses him back almost too eagerly, a slight moan lost against Corry's mouth and under the music.)
Yes. Yeah, absolutely. Please.
(He's never dirty talked before, but...he swallows thickly, keeping his eyes on Corry as he manages to say:)
I'm soaked and I think...you need to do something about that. (It's your fault.)
[Corry takes it all in stride, though there's definitely a triumphant look on his face as he steals one last kiss, feels Danny shiver against him. The soft comment, those big bright eyes on him, the way he can feel Danny tremble beneath his hand -- it all lights an almost predatory glint in Corry’s dark eyes. It's the sort of thing that might be frightening, in other contexts. Corry’s a big man -- well over six feet, broad and solid and imposing.
But his hand settles lightly at the small of Danny's back, and he's very gentle when he steers them both towards a side entrance -- less crowd. Even his tone is soft, surprisingly so for the filthy words:] I'll gladly take responsibility for that, baby. As many times as I can, tonight.
[Corry opens the door to reveal a dark car -- expensive, not an Uber or taxi, more like a personal driver -- and scans the alley up and down for a beat. Then he nods, ushering Danny forward, oddly alert until they're both safely in the warm leather interior. He doesn't let Danny go far, tucking him close against his side and toying with the silky blond hair at the nape of his neck.] Much better, hm?
(It should be terrifying. At the very least, it should be intimidating, but mostly, Danny just feels starved. Even just a year ago he would have scoffed at the idea of any guy calling him baby, but suddenly he completely understands why so many people like the petname.)
That's a big promise. (As they step outside, Danny's eyes move over to the car and then back to Corry. The guy dressed nice enough that it's not a total surprise, but Danny still can't help but raise his brows all the same. He can sense the slight alertness and it's on the tip of his tongue to make a kidnapping joke.
But, well.)
Y'know, if this was a white van, this whole thing would be way shadier.
(He's not afraid though. It's hard to be with his hair being played with like that. He twists a bit into Corry's side, grinning again.)
Kind of better. (He boldly reaches out to Corry's free and moves it across his lap and tucks it right between his legs.)
[Objectively, on paper, it's a terrible idea for Danny to go home with anyone who's a) older, b) bigger and stronger or c) someone he met less than an hour before. Corry knows that, and while he's definitely pleased that he's the one who Danny's with, there's still a slight protectiveness flaring in his chest at the idea that someone else could've gotten to him first.
So he doesn't hold back, now that they're in the car, warm and dark and rumbling, privacy screen up between the driver and the backseat. Corry chuckles at the joke, fingers curling around Danny's thigh, squeezing firmly, then loosening and sliding up the inside of his leg.]
Patience, darling. My hotel's not that far away. Then I can show you just how capable I am of keeping that promise. [Stamina is something Corry has in spades, a combination of practice and good genetics. The arm around Danny's shoulders tucks him closer, nestled against Corry's side, so it's much easier to touch him. Corry lets his warm palm linger right at the apex of Danny's thighs, pressing upwards, feeling the heat of him even through the multiple layers of cloth.]
Or maybe I like teasing you. [Corry slips his hand up, then, towards Danny's stomach, slowly sliding under the waist of his pants. He lingers for a moment, fingers slowly stroking lower, until he can see firsthand if Danny's as wet as he claimed.] Maybe I think you'd look fantastic begging for me.
(Oh, how incredible it was to have his thigh squeezed like that. It makes something hot and new swoop through the pit of his stomach and he can feel himself clenching up tight. That heat only seemed to spread with each inch Corry covered and by the time his fingers were slipping down the front of his pants, Danny was achingly wet.
He's stunned quiet for a second when Corry comes into contact with his cunt, and mostly because his brain short circuits. He shifts against the seat, trying not-so-subtly to shift into Corry's hand as if silently asking for more already. It was almost annoying, an itch that made him feel jittery.)
I've never been - well behaved.
(A stammering flutter ruins the intended defiance in his words, because- yeah, no. He was already on the verge of outright begging. All he could think about was Corry's fingers tucked up inside of him, stroking the deepest parts of his body.)
Though maybe with...the right incentive...(Is this how dirty talk works? He has no idea and doesn't even care.)
[God, that stammer is addictive, that cocky attitude slipping just a bit, revealing just how needy and desperate Danny was. As if Corry couldn't tell that by how soaked he is, the way the cloth of his underwear clings like a second skin, the way he shudders all over as Corry's fingers languidly explore. He doesn't move quick or purposefully, doesn't do anything that could get Danny off -- just strokes his fingers over the sodden fabric and enjoys how Danny squirms and shifts under his touch. The urge is definitely there to fill him up, slide a couple fingers inside his soaked cunt and see if he can ride them to completion before they get to the hotel.
But Corry likes this a bit better, likes the build-up, the anticipation. He wants Danny begging. He wants Danny spread out on his bed, sobbing his name, coming on his tongue. So he doesn't move any faster, doesn't let his hand slip beneath that last barrier of fabric. Plus this way he can lean in, find that soft place in Danny's neck where his pulse beats, press his lips to it.]
The right incentive. Like my mouth on you? [Corry drags his tongue over Danny's pulse, nips there gently, just enough to prompt a dull red mark, enjoying how easily the young man bruises.] Ever done that before, Danny? Ever had someone eat you out until you can't move, until you're coming all over their face? Ever fantasized about it?
(Would it be wrong to just mount Corry and ride out his virginity on his cock? For a split, wild second, Danny nearly contemplates it in earnest. There was a familiar glint in his eyes that he had whenever he was about to do something truly reckless and there was an enormous incentive to do this. It's almost more frustrating than sensual having Corry playing at him, but at the same time, Danny might cry if he stopped.
He lets out a shaky breath. He gives a trembling sort of laugh because- what.)
No. (As if it's obvious, isn't it obvious? Of course, he's never had that before. But has he fantasized about it? Well...Also no, but suddenly, he is, specifically about Corry. Most of his sexual fantasies were more general, abstract, and uncertain, but mostly there to drive him to the edge whenever he could get there.)
I don't- come easily. (He admits a bit awkwardly, but he's also horny enough that he doesn't care too much. He had a bad habit of overthinking whenever he masturbated and then just wound up giving up and going to sleep.)
You're uh- making me fantasize about it though. With you.
[If there's one thing Corry’s good at, it's being frustrating -- or maddening, exasperating, exhausting, a complete pain in the ass, the list goes on and on. He's burned a thousand bridges in his life, and manages not to regret them through sheer force of will. If he doesn't think about it, it doesn't haunt him.
But he's not a monster -- or even an out-and-out asshole. He's conscious of how much trust Danny's giving him, how inexperienced the boy actually is, which Corry finds to be a great injustice. The fact that someone this stunning, this beautifully responsive, someone who makes the sweetest breathy sounds when he's teased has gone unsatisfied for so long is some sort of cosmic crime.
One Corry fully intends to remedy, as soon as he can. He hums softly against Danny's neck, still teasing that mark into his pale skin, even as his fingers part, moving a little more purposefully, aiming to tease right at Danny's clit through the soaked fabric.] Nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. Just gives me more incentive to show you how good you can feel.
[The car is slowing, pulling up at the hotel, so Corry nuzzles at Danny's neck once more, then slips his hand free. Making direct eye contact, he drags his tongue over each finger, humming appreciatively.] I might have some fantasies of my own. We'll have to see if they match.
(Run away from your regrets and it will always work out fine. Probably. Maybe. Danny himself was a professional at just trying to ignore everything and drown it out with things like clubbing and music, and now, apparently, going home with tall, dark, mysterious strangers who had a gorgeous face and an unfair voice.
The attention to his clit gets a deep moan from Danny, his hips rising up off the seat and he's actually on the verge of throwing a real fit, but then the car is slowing down. He watches Corry lick his finger in a dazed way, his pupils completely blown.
He surges forward, bringing their mouths together in an almost-too hard kiss. Then just as quickly, he's leaning back, his eyes practically sparkling.)
You better live up to all these expectations. (He smirks, comfortably still in Corry's space, looking down at him from his position on his knee now.)
Because from what I hear, a lot of guys think they're way better than they actually are.
(He slides back away from Corry, helping himself out of the car. He peeks his head back down, smiling wider, nearly catlike.)
[Once again, Corry is reminded that inexperience doesn't always mean innocence. There's hunger and a fire in Danny's eyes, his voice, the way he kisses, and even if nobody else has gotten the privilege of enjoying every inch of that beautiful body, that isn't an excuse for Corry to get lazy.
So he grins openly, sliding out of the car and reaching automatically to set a hand on Danny's lower back, guiding him towards the doors of the hotel.] Then we're both fortunate I perform well under pressure.
[The hotel isn't a Hilton or a Ritz-Carlton -- it looks very unassuming on the outside, in fact, more like an office building than a place to sleep. But Corry flashes some sort of key card at the door and the man posted by it hurries to open and hold the door for the pair, letting them into an understated, classy lobby, full of equally understated and classy people. There's a lot of money on display, subtle as it is, but they stop as one and turn towards Corry as soon as he steps inside.
He doesn't appear to notice, preoccupied with gathering a handful of messages from the front desk worker, flicking through them with a free hand, then shaking his head at the silent woman manning the desk.] Nothing pressing. Hold any further calls until tomorrow afternoon, aside from the usual high-priorities.
[Then he turns back towards Danny, the serious expression melting back into a warm smile, nodding towards the elevator.] Shall we? I'm on the top floor, the view's to die for.
(Danny finds that he likes the hand settled on the slope of his lower back. The building is curious for a hotel, and only more curious when they step inside. Danny is all too painfully aware of what money looks like, and he knows within a second that he's well out of his league in this place with his thrifted and cheaper clothes. Some part of him doesn't care at all, enough of a punk in his own right to roll his eyes at the very idea of giving a fuck what any well-to-do snob might think of his street rat appearance.
But a part of him cares about Corry- even if only for the night. He turns his attention back to the man, watching him silently take messages and respond. Between that and the driver...It doesn't take him long to put the pieces together as they head for the elevator. He gives a nod, processing everything.
He doesn't say anything until they're alone though. He stares at Corry, almost suspicious.)
You're totally someone, aren't you? (Not a celebrity, that much is obvious, but he's someone.)
And you're definitely like, way out of my league. (Suspicious! Squinting.) My mom's taught me all about sex trafficking shit and I watch true crime on a regular basis, so I know how to leave behind so much evidence, you don't even know.
(What's your angle, Corry! Wait til Danny realizes it actually is just sex.)
[Oh that is -- well, it's adorable. And reassuring on some level, showing that Danny's just as capable and careful as he should be, as someone so young and attractive and alone in the club scene. Corry listens quietly, hiding the bemused smile under an expression of neutral thoughtfulness. Danny doesn't know who (what) he's talking to, but Corry has a hunch that even if he did, he'd have that same bold defiance.
It's addictive. It's unlike anything Corry's encountered in much longer than he wants to admit.]
Hardly "someone". I'm a financial advisor for some very, very wealthy people, and I've done very well for myself. [Not strictly the truth, but close enough.] But my intentions in bringing you here aren't to hurt you or take advantage. I can promise you that, Danny.
[The elevator is moving upwards, slowly, and Corry moves equally slowly, towards Danny, giving him plenty of time to move away. If he wants to.] My intentions aren't innocent, but they're straightforward: you're stunning, you enthrall me and I want you in my bed. Simple as that.
[One hand reaches out, smoothing Danny's shirt collar unnecessarily, lingering for a moment.] But I want you to want that too. If you've changed your mind, that's also perfectly fine. I'll have the car take you anywhere you want to go. [Corry's a lot of things, but he doesn't want Danny entering into anything he doesn't wholly, enthusiastically want.]
(Danny loved the darkest parts of the web and had spent a good chunk of his life fascinated with the macabre. If he knew what Corry truly was, all it would do is make him that much more attracted to the man. Which is impressive considering how much more handsome Corry actually is under proper lighting.
And now that they are alone, he's actually soaking Corry in completely. The club's dark lighting and the back of Corry's car hadn't done him nearly enough justice.)
So you're rich. (As fuck. It isn't a question, but there is no real judgment on his face either. His sister was obsessed with dissecting the rich and he knew that it was probably more complex than just being a financial advisor, but he doesn't bother pointing that out.)
Well, I want you to take advantage of me a little bit. (He turns to Corry just the same, his mouth in a crooked grin at Corry's assurance. It's actually sweet.)
Oh, trust me. I'm not walking out of this building with my virginity intact. (He moves forward, sliding his hands up and over Corry's chest and leans up onto his toes to give him a surprisingly soft kiss all things considered. He holds onto him then, just hanging off him, rocking a bit against him.)
[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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Would you, then? Enjoy a mouthful? [Corry teases it back with a wicked grin of his own. Oh, yes. Definitely flirting.
It's enough encouragement that Corry feels bold enough to reach out, thumb away a drop of bright green liquor resting on Danny's lower lip after his most recent sip. He lets his hand linger, fingers callused and warm, easily cradling Danny's chin, something deeply possessive in the gesture.] Danny. Pleasure to meet you. I'm not much of a dancer, but I have a feeling if I'm with you, nobody will be looking at me.
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He smirks at the question. He plucks the cherry off the top of his drink and thoughtfully rests it against his lower lip before slowly sliding it into his mouth. He plucks the stem off and chews around the pit, swallowing, before sticking his tongue out with the pit at the tip. He plucks it off.)
I think I would.
(He drops the pit and stem onto a napkin.
Then Corry's hand is by his face and he's being touched by a man in a way he had only ever dreamed of. It catches him off guard that he winds up staring at Corry in an open, boyish look of wonder. He has never been possessed and suddenly, it's all he can really think about. He can feel himself starting to blush again.)
I think everyone here would look at you instead of me. You're kind of...You know.
(Gorgeous? In a completely surreal way.)
But I'd make it worth your while.
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[He lets his hand linger on Danny's face for a moment longer, thumb tracing over the line of his jaw, the soft line of his throat, feeling his pulse racing. The sweet, open innocence in those wide eyes is the kind of thing Corry could get addicted to very, very easily. He's torn between wanting to be gentle and wanting to absolutely wreck this beautiful, blushing boy.]
And I think you're completely unaware of your own appeal. Which works for my purposes, because I don't want to share you tonight. [He stands, slowly, drink in one hand, his other one sliding around to cradle the back of Danny's neck, prompting him to look upwards.] You can make it worth my while by letting me know what you think of that. Of me not sharing you.
[Softer, eyes dragging slowly over Danny's mouth, dragging down too the loose neck of his t-shirt, consuming every glimpse of skin with something almost ravenous:] Of me taking you home tonight.
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Luckily for you, I wasn't exactly looking at anyone in this place until I saw you. (Well, actually. He laughs then.) Or, I guess until I saw you seeing me.
(Then he realized that there was some sort of weird possibility here. He allows himself to be guided into looking up at Corry, and man, he's tall and handsome as hell and Danny has to remind himself that this guy probably was way too good for a bathroom blowjob.
Then Corry says that and Danny's smile fades, but not in any absence of joy. Quite the opposite. His pupils dilate and his mouth hangs open ever so slightly, his heart picking up. He stands up finally, almost dizzy with the surreal situation he was absolutely not expecting. A part of him wants to just scream uh, fuck yeah, take me home right now.
But then his brain catches up to reality and he blinks at Corry, suddenly a bit shy, a smile on his face again, but a bit cagey.)
Yeah, no. That's cool. (Give him a second to catch up. He's standing a bit straighter, leaning back into the bar, and he's thinking. He glances over his shoulder at the bartender and then back to the guy because well- well. Bridget's stupid statistics were rattling through his head and all of his mom's stranger danger bullshit and the whole...)
It's just, you know. (He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, suddenly feeling totally out of his depth.)
I'm not exactly...I'm sorta lacking some parts. So. My body might not live up to...whatever's going on in your head right now. (Okay, well, that speech probably could have gone better but now he's just giving Corry a strained smile and genuinely? Expecting some sort of rejection.)
It's cool if you're not into that sorta thing. I get it. You don't need to feel guilty or anything if you're not into certain genitalia. My sister says there's this whole thing where people can have genital preferences and do it in a non-transphobic way, but most people are pretty shitty about it, but I think there's some nuance there, so I'm not saying you're transphobic if you don't want me anymore, but it's just like...
(Danny, you are officially talking way too much. He clamps his mouth shut.)
I'm gonna shut up now.
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But he wants more than that with Danny. He doesn't want to rush -- he wants to take his time, indulge in every inch of this beautiful boy's body, savor putting that awestruck, worshipful look on his face over and over. Corry wants the entire night, from right that second until the sun rises, and he doesn't want to share with anyone else.
Which is why he frowns a bit, almost petulant, when Danny steps backwards, away from his touch. At least, until he hears what the young man is trying to say. Corry tends not to make assumptions, not about what people might have beneath their clothes, but he'd had a faint idea -- mostly because of the way Danny had lit up at being called "he".
So he waits patiently, unable to hide the immensely fond twist of a smile at how Danny ends his rambling. It's -- so genuine, so authentic, in a way that's a stark contrast to the duplicitous, conniving types Corry’s gotten used to. Nobody who eats cherries like Danny does is 100% innocent, of course, but right now there's no artifice. Just a very anxious, unsure young man, bracing himself for a rejection.
Part of Corry wants to demand the names and locations of every person who'd ever made Danny feel like he had to expect rejection, like he had to justify his own existence. But another part wisely decides that it's better to set down his drink and reach out to gently take one of Danny's hands, sliding their fingers together.]
Darling, you don't have to worry about me not wanting you, let's get that established first off. Regardless of what your body looks like -- though I'll admit, I'm very excited at the possibility that I'll get to see for myself.
[A pause, thinking of the best way to word this, because Corry doesn't do great with vulnerable, but he wants to honor the fact that Danny's being just that.] I've been with...a lot of people, in my life. I'm old enough to know what I prefer. I like men, preferably men with mouths like sin and eyes that make me want to write a goddamn sonnet.
[He lifts Danny's hand to his lips, kissing the back of his wrist, gently, meeting those eyes with his warm, dark ones.] Men like you.
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The music in the club fades away almost entirely and all Danny can really focus on is the shape and warmth of Corry's mouth on his hand. Danny stares at him, mouth slightly parted in mute surprise, and he can feel something deep down in the pit of his chest shift permanently. That awestruck look was in full force now, his eyes unblinking, staring up at Corry as if Corry had just tipped his world on its axis.
Which, in truth, he might as well have done.
It's funny because the rational part of him realizes that this could and probably was just a sex thing. Logically it made sense plenty of people would be fine sleeping with trans people and did so on a regular basis. But another part of him realized most people wouldn't bother with delivering that information in such a careful way, especially after such an embarrassingly vulnerable ramble like he'd spewed.
And especially not with a guy like Corry who was undeniably older, hotter, probably wealthier (which, really, everyone was wealthier than Danny), and far more experience. There was nothing really for him to gain from Danny and if he just wanted to fuck him, Danny was plenty willing enough that he didn't exactly need the effort of Corry's kindness. And Danny knew that the culture of gay men, queer men, was often blunt and to the point without any frills and with a certain harsh truth.
But there is none of that here. He realizes he's blushing hard and he winds up finally looking down, his heart going a mile a minute.)
You...(His voice trembles for a second. Then he's looking back up at Danny, a wide, genuine smile spreading across his face.)
Really talk like a total sap.
(But there's a certain glittering adoration on Danny's face, and he winds up pulling his hand away from Corry's grip. A moment later and he's closing the space between them, leaning up onto his toes, hands clenching up the front of Corry's shirt, and he kisses Corry right on his mouth.
It's a surprisingly soft kiss given the heat between his thighs, but it's a kiss of open appreciation and a promise: I'm yours as long as you want me.
He breaks the kiss, still on his toes, grin growing.)
I like it. (I like you.)
Let's dance.
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This is one of them. Danny's shaky voice, his bright, dazzling grin, the way it transforms his entire face, crinkling the corners of his eyes and scrunching his nose, no artifice, no performance, just genuine joy. Danny rising up on his toes, gripping Corry's shirt in both hands and kissing him sweet and gentle, the way a first kiss should be, that earnest, soft emotion he hasn't felt in probably twenty years. Danny, warm and sweet and bright against him, lingering just long enough that Corry has time to slide a hand to his back, resting broad and warm between his shoulders.
There's a flicker of something warm and genuine in Corry's face as well -- not that he'd been lying or overexaggerating before, but he keeps such a tight grip on his emotions that he'd still kept them in check, even while being honest. He huffs out a laugh, reaching up to smooth his thumb along Danny's jawline again, gentle, featherlight.] Glad you approve.
Let's. For a bit. [Honestly, Corry could leave right that second and be perfectly happy tangled up in the back of a town car with Danny, but the show-off in him wants to be seen dancing with this beautiful, grinning, magnificent young thing before they retire for the night. So he grabs Danny's hand again, tugs him onto the dance floor -- not the direct center, towards one edge, with dimmer lights and heavier bass, so he can slide his hands back down the young man's back again, beginning to learn the shape of him beneath those baggy clothes.] This all right?
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But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it while it lasted. That he couldn't do his best. He follows after Corry obediently, and his arms automatically fold around Corry's neck.)
Yeah, that's fine.
(Better than fine. Danny's still grinning, his hips swaying to the music, and while he did bury himself in baggy clothes, there was an effortless seductive way in which he rolled his body against Corry's. He was self-aware of every inch of himself and knew how to use it in tandem with music. He mostly blamed that on a love for music rather than actually feeling sexy himself, but it's easy to get lost in the raspy voice singing over a dripping beat. It's easy to let himself get lost in the vibration of the music and the warmth of Corry's body.
His grin fades at some point, but the look left behind his face is one of open want and wonder, his eyes hooked on Corry's, unwavering now that he was looking at him.)
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But the idea of someone else here, with their hands sliding down Danny's body, resting just above his ass, then slipping down to squeeze once, possessively -- yeah, okay, maybe Corry dislikes that idea more. He doesn't want to share. It's irrational and bordering on absurd, but part of him wants to make tonight so indelibly magnificent that Danny remembers him forever.
For now, though, he pulls Danny a little closer, hands traveling back to his ass, ducking his head to murmur against his ear:] You're making it very difficult to be patient until we get back to my hotel, darling. Is that on purpose? Because I wouldn't mind getting on my knees for you in the bathroom, just to take the edge off...
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It was- (Not on purpose, but now that he's thinking about it, maybe he had been trying. He grinds a bit more intentionally against Corry, dragging up against him. He tips his head back to look at Corry, his eyes dark and desperate.)
Maybe I just want you to do whatever you want with me tonight. (A slower grind.) Whenever and wherever you want.
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And maybe I don't want to share a single thing about you tonight. [His free hand comes up, cradles Danny's chin, holds him still effortlessly, taking in his heated gaze, those perfect parted lips. Thumb tracing Danny's lower lip, Corry rocks forward, presses flush against Danny and murmurs:] The only one who gets to hear how sweet you sound when you come is me.
[Then, with a smirk, Corry ducks down, kisses Danny again, this time slow and deep and filthy, tongue curling into his mouth, opening him up. It lingers, heedless of the music, not caring for anything except Danny in his arms, the way he sounds, the way he tastes. Corry pulls away, but only enough to ask:] Ready to get outta here, darlin'?
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Then his mind goes completely white and he's almost positive he can feel a slight trickle drip down the inside of a thigh. This is only confirmed when Corry kisses him like that and Danny's knees actually tremble. He kisses him back almost too eagerly, a slight moan lost against Corry's mouth and under the music.)
Yes. Yeah, absolutely. Please.
(He's never dirty talked before, but...he swallows thickly, keeping his eyes on Corry as he manages to say:)
I'm soaked and I think...you need to do something about that. (It's your fault.)
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But his hand settles lightly at the small of Danny's back, and he's very gentle when he steers them both towards a side entrance -- less crowd. Even his tone is soft, surprisingly so for the filthy words:] I'll gladly take responsibility for that, baby. As many times as I can, tonight.
[Corry opens the door to reveal a dark car -- expensive, not an Uber or taxi, more like a personal driver -- and scans the alley up and down for a beat. Then he nods, ushering Danny forward, oddly alert until they're both safely in the warm leather interior. He doesn't let Danny go far, tucking him close against his side and toying with the silky blond hair at the nape of his neck.] Much better, hm?
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That's a big promise. (As they step outside, Danny's eyes move over to the car and then back to Corry. The guy dressed nice enough that it's not a total surprise, but Danny still can't help but raise his brows all the same. He can sense the slight alertness and it's on the tip of his tongue to make a kidnapping joke.
But, well.)
Y'know, if this was a white van, this whole thing would be way shadier.
(He's not afraid though. It's hard to be with his hair being played with like that. He twists a bit into Corry's side, grinning again.)
Kind of better. (He boldly reaches out to Corry's free and moves it across his lap and tucks it right between his legs.)
You could do a little more.
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So he doesn't hold back, now that they're in the car, warm and dark and rumbling, privacy screen up between the driver and the backseat. Corry chuckles at the joke, fingers curling around Danny's thigh, squeezing firmly, then loosening and sliding up the inside of his leg.]
Patience, darling. My hotel's not that far away. Then I can show you just how capable I am of keeping that promise. [Stamina is something Corry has in spades, a combination of practice and good genetics. The arm around Danny's shoulders tucks him closer, nestled against Corry's side, so it's much easier to touch him. Corry lets his warm palm linger right at the apex of Danny's thighs, pressing upwards, feeling the heat of him even through the multiple layers of cloth.]
Or maybe I like teasing you. [Corry slips his hand up, then, towards Danny's stomach, slowly sliding under the waist of his pants. He lingers for a moment, fingers slowly stroking lower, until he can see firsthand if Danny's as wet as he claimed.] Maybe I think you'd look fantastic begging for me.
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He's stunned quiet for a second when Corry comes into contact with his cunt, and mostly because his brain short circuits. He shifts against the seat, trying not-so-subtly to shift into Corry's hand as if silently asking for more already. It was almost annoying, an itch that made him feel jittery.)
I've never been - well behaved.
(A stammering flutter ruins the intended defiance in his words, because- yeah, no. He was already on the verge of outright begging. All he could think about was Corry's fingers tucked up inside of him, stroking the deepest parts of his body.)
Though maybe with...the right incentive...(Is this how dirty talk works? He has no idea and doesn't even care.)
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But Corry likes this a bit better, likes the build-up, the anticipation. He wants Danny begging. He wants Danny spread out on his bed, sobbing his name, coming on his tongue. So he doesn't move any faster, doesn't let his hand slip beneath that last barrier of fabric. Plus this way he can lean in, find that soft place in Danny's neck where his pulse beats, press his lips to it.]
The right incentive. Like my mouth on you? [Corry drags his tongue over Danny's pulse, nips there gently, just enough to prompt a dull red mark, enjoying how easily the young man bruises.] Ever done that before, Danny? Ever had someone eat you out until you can't move, until you're coming all over their face? Ever fantasized about it?
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He lets out a shaky breath. He gives a trembling sort of laugh because- what.)
No. (As if it's obvious, isn't it obvious? Of course, he's never had that before. But has he fantasized about it? Well...Also no, but suddenly, he is, specifically about Corry. Most of his sexual fantasies were more general, abstract, and uncertain, but mostly there to drive him to the edge whenever he could get there.)
I don't- come easily. (He admits a bit awkwardly, but he's also horny enough that he doesn't care too much. He had a bad habit of overthinking whenever he masturbated and then just wound up giving up and going to sleep.)
You're uh- making me fantasize about it though. With you.
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But he's not a monster -- or even an out-and-out asshole. He's conscious of how much trust Danny's giving him, how inexperienced the boy actually is, which Corry finds to be a great injustice. The fact that someone this stunning, this beautifully responsive, someone who makes the sweetest breathy sounds when he's teased has gone unsatisfied for so long is some sort of cosmic crime.
One Corry fully intends to remedy, as soon as he can. He hums softly against Danny's neck, still teasing that mark into his pale skin, even as his fingers part, moving a little more purposefully, aiming to tease right at Danny's clit through the soaked fabric.] Nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. Just gives me more incentive to show you how good you can feel.
[The car is slowing, pulling up at the hotel, so Corry nuzzles at Danny's neck once more, then slips his hand free. Making direct eye contact, he drags his tongue over each finger, humming appreciatively.] I might have some fantasies of my own. We'll have to see if they match.
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The attention to his clit gets a deep moan from Danny, his hips rising up off the seat and he's actually on the verge of throwing a real fit, but then the car is slowing down. He watches Corry lick his finger in a dazed way, his pupils completely blown.
He surges forward, bringing their mouths together in an almost-too hard kiss. Then just as quickly, he's leaning back, his eyes practically sparkling.)
You better live up to all these expectations. (He smirks, comfortably still in Corry's space, looking down at him from his position on his knee now.)
Because from what I hear, a lot of guys think they're way better than they actually are.
(He slides back away from Corry, helping himself out of the car. He peeks his head back down, smiling wider, nearly catlike.)
I'll make sure to be more critical than usual.
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So he grins openly, sliding out of the car and reaching automatically to set a hand on Danny's lower back, guiding him towards the doors of the hotel.] Then we're both fortunate I perform well under pressure.
[The hotel isn't a Hilton or a Ritz-Carlton -- it looks very unassuming on the outside, in fact, more like an office building than a place to sleep. But Corry flashes some sort of key card at the door and the man posted by it hurries to open and hold the door for the pair, letting them into an understated, classy lobby, full of equally understated and classy people. There's a lot of money on display, subtle as it is, but they stop as one and turn towards Corry as soon as he steps inside.
He doesn't appear to notice, preoccupied with gathering a handful of messages from the front desk worker, flicking through them with a free hand, then shaking his head at the silent woman manning the desk.] Nothing pressing. Hold any further calls until tomorrow afternoon, aside from the usual high-priorities.
[Then he turns back towards Danny, the serious expression melting back into a warm smile, nodding towards the elevator.] Shall we? I'm on the top floor, the view's to die for.
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But a part of him cares about Corry- even if only for the night. He turns his attention back to the man, watching him silently take messages and respond. Between that and the driver...It doesn't take him long to put the pieces together as they head for the elevator. He gives a nod, processing everything.
He doesn't say anything until they're alone though. He stares at Corry, almost suspicious.)
You're totally someone, aren't you? (Not a celebrity, that much is obvious, but he's someone.)
And you're definitely like, way out of my league. (Suspicious! Squinting.) My mom's taught me all about sex trafficking shit and I watch true crime on a regular basis, so I know how to leave behind so much evidence, you don't even know.
(What's your angle, Corry! Wait til Danny realizes it actually is just sex.)
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It's addictive. It's unlike anything Corry's encountered in much longer than he wants to admit.]
Hardly "someone". I'm a financial advisor for some very, very wealthy people, and I've done very well for myself. [Not strictly the truth, but close enough.] But my intentions in bringing you here aren't to hurt you or take advantage. I can promise you that, Danny.
[The elevator is moving upwards, slowly, and Corry moves equally slowly, towards Danny, giving him plenty of time to move away. If he wants to.] My intentions aren't innocent, but they're straightforward: you're stunning, you enthrall me and I want you in my bed. Simple as that.
[One hand reaches out, smoothing Danny's shirt collar unnecessarily, lingering for a moment.] But I want you to want that too. If you've changed your mind, that's also perfectly fine. I'll have the car take you anywhere you want to go. [Corry's a lot of things, but he doesn't want Danny entering into anything he doesn't wholly, enthusiastically want.]
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And now that they are alone, he's actually soaking Corry in completely. The club's dark lighting and the back of Corry's car hadn't done him nearly enough justice.)
So you're rich. (As fuck. It isn't a question, but there is no real judgment on his face either. His sister was obsessed with dissecting the rich and he knew that it was probably more complex than just being a financial advisor, but he doesn't bother pointing that out.)
Well, I want you to take advantage of me a little bit. (He turns to Corry just the same, his mouth in a crooked grin at Corry's assurance. It's actually sweet.)
Oh, trust me. I'm not walking out of this building with my virginity intact. (He moves forward, sliding his hands up and over Corry's chest and leans up onto his toes to give him a surprisingly soft kiss all things considered. He holds onto him then, just hanging off him, rocking a bit against him.)
Besides, you do kinda owe me at least one orgasm.
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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?
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