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The downside of being an only child, Sion likes to tell people, is that he never got to be an annoying younger or older sibling. So his friends tend to carry that cross. They love it, even if they groan and complain at his incessant bothering. Sue him.
If there's one thing Sion is good at, it's annoying his friends. Especially when he's in the market for something specific.
"C'mon," Sion whines, rubbing his face into the crook of Riku's neck, "don't you have anyone you can set me up with?"
"I told you already, there's none that I can think of." Riku pauses, lost in thought for a moment. "Maybe I can ask Yushi."
"Yushi has even less friends than you do!" Sion exclaims.
The position they're in is more than compromising, with Sion practically sat in his best friends lap, head buried in the crevice of his neck. Any normal lover would take one look at this scenario and second guess their entire relationship. But Yushi isn't a normal lover, not by far.
Instead, Yushi, with his comedic timing always, enters the room at Sion's statement and says, "Don't be rude."
He slides his bag off and launches it towards the couch, missing Sion by only a few inches.
"Hey, it's the truth and we both know it."
"Whatever," Yushi rolls his eyes. "And get off of my boyfriend.
"Learn how to share," he hugs Riku tighter, to which the younger only groans. It's a ploy. Riku loves skinship just as much as Sion does, even if he spends half the time squirming under his grip. "Don't be stingy."
Yushi rolls his eyes again but doesn't respond, only pads to the kitchen to prepare a pot of boiling water. Sion's surprised every time how fast Yushi goes through packets of ramen. You'd think he was a struggling college student rather than a successful photographer.
"So," Sion continues, finally unlatching himself from Riku to make his way to Yushi, "do you have any friends you can set me up with?"
Yushi glares at him which makes Riku chuckle loudly. Then, Sion sees the cogs turning, even if his expression does little to indicate that he's taken his words into consideration.
"I mean, I could try asking Daeyoung," Yushi shrugs. "He's not exactly looking, but I don't think he'd turn down the opportunity."
"Mm? Daeyoung?" Sion questions.
"Eh!? Daeyoung-kun!?" Riku replies at the same time in his and Yushi's native tongue. They switch languages so often that Sion's started to pick up on some of it. His brain translates the next sentence with an ease that would make his high school Japanese teacher proud. "He's not really Sionies type…"
"At this point, I don't care," Sion says with a wave, switching them back into Korean. "It's been months since I've gotten laid, and even longer since I went on a date. Anyone will do. Is he cute at least?"
"That's the thing, he's cute," Riku emphasizes. "You're not exactly into cute."
Riku is right. Sion tends to lean more towards guys like himself. Sure, it's a little self-centered, narcissistic, and maybe it's why none of his past relationships haven't worked out too well, but he couldn't help himself. The saying 'nice guys finish last' existed for a reason. Sion always found those cutesy, gentleman type guys boring. Perhaps it's toxic, but Sion wanted a some push and pull in his relationships.
Except, sometimes the push was too much, and the pull wasn't enough. So Sion decided that maybe he could at least try. One date wouldn't kill him.
"Set me up anyway," Sion nods. When Riku shoots him an apprehensive look, he adds, "Please. I'm desperate."
Riku and Yushi exchange a look that Sion, though practically the third in their relationship at this point, can't decipher. After a few moments of their weird stare-off showdown, Yushi nods wordlessly and pulls out his phone.
Sion hopes that's a good sign.
"Done." Yushi places his phone down, then turns to add his block of ramen to the boiling water. "I texted him your number in case he was interested."
"Thank you," Sion engulfs Yushi in a hug despite the youngers whining. It only lasts for a second before he's slouching into Sion's touch, going lax like a scruffed kitten.
"Hey!" Riku exclaims, jumping up from his spot on the couch. "Not fair! Let me in!"
A few days later Sion receives a text from an unknown number.
Sion-ssi, it's Daeyoung, Yushi-hyung's friend. I'd love to take you out on a date sometime. Please let me know when you're free!
It's different from the texts he'd usually get from potential suitors, somewhere along the lines of, 'U free this weekend?'
Sion actually likes it, despite it being riddled with all sorts of honorifics that makes it feel like he's texting a colleague. It's sweet, actually, and makes Sion smile as he replies.
Hi Daeyoung-ssi! I'm free Friday after five and anytime on Saturday or Sunday. I'd love to see you then if you're available :)
The response is quick, which comes as a surprise to Sion. Again, he's used to more push and pull. The good ole 'wait so you don't seem desperate' bit. Apparently Daeyoung didn't care. Is this what going on a date with an emotionally mature person felt like? Sion wouldn't really know.
Sion-ssi, I'd love to take you out Saturday evening! I can pick you up, or if you don't feel comfortable, we can meet there. Just let me know.
Maybe his way of texting is a bit out-dated, especially for someone three years younger than Sion himself, but it's exactly how Riku and Yushi described him—cute, a little old fashioned.
I'll send my address.
Then, for good measure, he adds:
Call me hyung, by the way.
Daeyoung's response is concise, on par with what Sion expected.
Sure, hyung. See you on Saturday.
Sion hasn't been on a date in half a year. Not a real date, at the very least.
The last one had been with someone Sion could only describe as a loser. He still lived with his parents, which would be fine had he been employed or in school or even attempting to look for work. But he was without a degree, a job, or passion for anything at all. Instead, their conversation had continued to droll on about literally nothing. Sion had been with men that weren't interesting before, but this guy was a whole new experience.
He carried the conversation as well as he could, but after one too many awkward silences he'd cut the date short—after paying for both of their meals, of course.
That date had been the one that made Sion swear off dating for good. Why couldn't he just meet someone and fall in love instantly like Yushi and Riku had? Where was his perfect guy?
Then he tried casual sex, which was great. Until it wasn't.
Generally, he wasn't the type to sleep around, despite the whore-ish energy he tended to radiate—what can he say, he's got unparalleled confidence. He's great at flirting, but anything past that is a challenge he isn't willing to conquer.
Sleeping around made him feel icky, unclean. No matter how safe he was being, he still got paranoid every time. It would be great up until the point he was finished. Then the regret came—the anxiety.
So here he was: not good at dating, not good at sleeping around, single, and pushing thirty.
But he was lonely, and being around Riku, Yushi, and all of his other friends in their disgustingly loving relationships didn't help. He tried to tell himself he didn't need another person to be happy, but anyone who says that is a liar. Sion included.
This date is what he needs, even if it'll only make him feel good for a brief moment. He needs the validation, unfortunately. That he's still wanted. That he's still got it.
Whatever "it" is.
That's what he thinks up until Saturday comes, and the date looms nearer and nearer.
His confidence begins to dwindle and he starts to doubt everything after he receives a text from Daeyoung letting him know he's on his way. Rationally, he knows Yushi wouldn't set him up with someone awful, but his mind starts to create all sorts scenarios.
What if the car ride is awkward? What if Sion decides immediately upon meeting that Daeyoung isn't for him and has to suffer through the rest of a date? It'd be his own doing—he's the one who asked Yushi to set him up on a blind date in the first place—but it wouldn't make it any less awful.
Eventually, his brain starts running in circles and Sion gives up. Whatever. It's just one night. Do it for the plot, he tells himself, an ideology that definitely put him in some not too good scenarios in college. But hey, he did indeed have some funny stories to tell.
Sion stops his pacing when his phone buzzes with a text, the dreaded 'here' message. He checks himself out in the mirror one last time, fixing a misplaced strand, and gives himself a curt nod before he's out the door, nerves bubbling inside him.
The first thing Sion notices when he arrives outside is that Daeyoung is standing in front of his car, not sitting inside it like he had expected.
He looks nice, in a black turtleneck under a navy blazer with black slacks fitted onto him, hugging him in all the right places. It's much nicer than Sion's distressed jeans and leather jacket—though most of everything he's wearing is designer so…that counts for something. But overall, Daeyoung isn't not too bad. He's cute, exactly how Riku described, with a puppy-dog face and a surprisingly sharp jawline. And he's tall, which Sion tries not to take into account, but it's hard not to with a physique like Daeyoung's. He breathes a sigh of relief that at the very least, he fits into the brackets of Sion's standards.
Daeyoung smiles widely when Sion waves at him and opens the door to the passenger seat with a gesture.
Sion almost laughs at the old fashioned gesture out of nervousness, but conceals it and instead bows his head in a meek nod, uttering out a quiet, "Thank you."
The car ride is awkward. At first.
They introduce themselves and sit there for a moment in silence before Daeyoung seems to remember that he has to actually drive to their destination. Then the conversation starts, just the usual stuff: where do you work, do you have any hobbies, etc. Once they get to talking, Sion's nerves begin to ease, and by the time they get to the restaurant, Sion is more eager than anxious.
The place Daeyoung picked is fancier than Sion had expected, and he's definitely a little underdressed. But all in all, Sion feels like this is all going very well. A little too well, he thinks. Daeyoung's got to have something wrong with him because all he's done is be nice and kind and a complete gentleman to Sion in the past thirty minutes. At this point, he'd usually find one or two blaring red flags. So far, Daeyoung has none, which Sion can't tell if he finds scary or relieving.
They make their way to the table after Daeyoung tells the hostess about their reservation—reservation, Sion blanches at, which, by the way, they were on time for—and Daeyoung pulls his chair out for him like something out of a romance novel.
Sion isn't used to being treated like this, especially on a first date, and he tries not to get too used to it in case the rest of the date goes up in flames.
He lifts up the glass of wine that Daeyoung ordered (with a price tag that made Sion wince at first sight) to his lips, taking a sip before speaking. "So, Daeyoung, you said you're a physician, right? How is that?"
Being a physician explains the three star restaurant they're at. Not that Sion doesn't do well for himself, despite the fact that all he does is work odd modeling jobs. At least they pay pretty good.
"It's great. I work in pediatrics, so with kids, and though they can be a handful, I love it. They make the job interesting, that's for sure. No day is ever the same." Daeyoung chuckles, deep and hearty.
"Mm," Sion hums. He's notoriously a light-weight, and just the few sips of wine he's had are making him pink with heat. That or whatever charm Daeyoung is spitting at him. "Do you want kids?"
It's not really a deal-breaker either way, Sion is completely torn on the subject every time he's asked. Riku and Yushi are anti snot-rocket but Sion…he's thought about it for sure. It's mostly just conversational, but at their ages, an important question nonetheless.
"I still don't know, actually." Daeyoung's lips purse as he ponders. "It's funny, because I work with them, you know? You'd think I'd be sure but…they're a lot of work. And expensive. So yes most of the time. Other times, I'm grateful I don't have them. Sorry for the non-answer."
"No I totally get it," Sion nods, "I'm the same. Like, one second I'm glad I'm child free and then I see a cute baby and I'm like…maybe it wouldn't be too bad."
Daeyoung laughs and the noise sends a wave of something through Sion. He craves more of it; the praise, the undivided attention. The feeling of self-importance.
Not that he doesn't get it often—because, he does—but coming from Daeyoung it feels different. It feels...better.
"What about you?" Daeyoung takes a sip of his own wine. "I'll say, I was pretty shocked that you mentioned you did modeling earlier. I don't think I've ever encountered one out in the wild, much less gone on a date with one."
"It's nothing, really," Sion waves, feeling shy in a way he typically never does. "I just do some catalogue shoots occasionally, never runway. The pay is good and sometimes the let you keep the clothing which is nice."
Hence his ₩1,000,000 pants and ₩250,000 top.
"Is this always what you wanted to do?" Daeyoung inquires.
"I've loved fashion since I was young, and growing up I always got compliments on my good looks," he pauses and then adds, "not to brag, of course."
This makes Daeyoung laugh, which spurs Sion to continue.
"So I figured I'd try my hand at it. At first, it was awful. I just did these like weird stock photos and some faceless clothes modeling. Then I met Yushi, and he got me some connections to designer catalogues: Dior, Gucci, Loewe. My proudest accomplishment, though, is my Rick Owens work..." He rambles on, only stopping when he feels like he's spoken too much.
"That's amazing, hyung," Daeyoung smiles, sounding so genuine that Sion's stomach does a little backflip. "I'm happy everything worked out in the end. I'd love to see some pictures from your shoots sometime."
Sion smiles back, nodding. "I'd love to show you."
The bar for men is in hell, Sion realizes throughout their conversation, because all of these seemingly normal things—things you should be doing on a first date—Daeyoung does, riles him up beyond belief.
He listens intently when Sion's talking, nodding along and humming in between bites of food, even asking follow-up questions to Sion's stupid anecdotes. He's easy to listen to, as well. His stories are interesting and Sion finds himself latching on to every word that comes out of the youngers mouth.
Before he knows it, they've been there almost two hours. It's only when their waitress approaches with an annoyed look on her face, asking for the third time if they're interested in dessert, that Sion realizes they might be overstaying their welcome. He doesn't care, instead just waves her away in lieu of leaning in closer to Daeyoung, entranced. Daeyoung, with a bit more common sense and courtesy, checks his watch, realizes they're due to close soon, and asks for the check.
Sion is a little dejected by this. He doesn't want the date to end, possibly for the first time in his life. He wants to learn all of the little things about Daeyoung, wants to tell him everything about himself.
Daeyoung takes out his card, refuting when Sion offers to pay, and hands it to the waitress with a smile. His gaze is soft, but there's something deep and intense about it that sends butterflies coursing through Sion whenever they lock eyes. Like he's really seeing him, as silly as it sounds.
"I know we rejected dessert like four times but," Daeyoung issues hesitantly, "do you want to go grab an ice cream or something? Is that childish to ask?"
"No!" Sion rushes out. He can't even bring himself to feel any semblance of shame or embarrassment, either. He's down bad and he knows it. And he doesn't care if Daeyoung knows it. "I'd love to."
"Okay," Daeyoung smiles, standing up. Sion takes a second before following, scared his knees will give out the second he tries.
He's successful, yet wobbly, on his first attempt.
They walk down the block, side by side, hands gracing with every step. Sion feels like a teenager again, on his very first date, too shy to reach for Daeyoung's hand but wanting to so badly. The street lights are bright and they shine in Daeyoung's eyes as he looks over at Sion, uttering words the elder glazes over, too deep in thought to register.
Is this the chivalry that people are talking about? Because if so, chivalry surely isn't dead. Not when Daeyoung has been nothing but respectful and polite and a complete gentleman all night.
And for that, Sion has a strange urge to ruin him. It boils underneath him, that monstrous, possessive feeling. It's all-consuming—Sion feels it in his bones—but he pushes it down with a smile as he finally tunes back in to Daeyoung's words.
During their walk around the city, ice creams in hand, they people watch, glance around at infrastructure that they've both probably seen a million times, and talk about…everything. Daeyoung is simply easy to talk to, and the conversation flows between them as easy as breathing.
Sion finds himself telling Daeyoung things about himself that even Yushi and Riku don't know. They're just small bits of information about his childhood, his work, but things he never feels the need to share. But he does, because Daeyoung listens. He listens and laughs and makes Sion feel like he's the most important person in the flood of people surrounding them—like he's the only person.
They stop at a bench near a fountain to sit, the sound of rushing water drowning out the sound of their voices. Sion, feeling bold, moves closer.
"You have a little," Sion laughs, pointing to the corner of Daeyoung's mouth where a dollop of ice cream rests.
"Hm?" Daeyoung reaches up, dabbing his lips on every spot except where the ice cream is. Sion feels like looking around for cameras because this all seems too picture perfect; like a date from one of those cheesy rom-coms.
He thumbs at the spot, wiping away the remnants of liquid. Daeyoung flinches but lets him. And there's that look again: the strangely hardened gaze that he's been periodically giving Sion throughout the night. The gaze that has his stomach doing somersaults.
For a moment, he thinks Daeyoung is going to kiss him. They're closer than Sion realized, their faces just a few inches away, and he yearns for it. For Daeyoung to lean forward and press his lips against Sion's. But then he retreats, a half-smile gracing his lips as he utters out a quiet 'thank you'.
Sion tries to hide his disappointment.
After almost an hour of walking and loitering around, they both reluctantly decide to head out. It's getting late and neither of them can find any more excuses to keep circling the same plaza, though they tried.
Sion spends the entire car ride back restlessly shifting in his seat, weighing his options for the rest of the night. He likes Daeyoung, a lot, and he's had more fun on this date than any he's ever been on.
Suddenly, he's insecure, wondering if Daeyoung feels the same.
Thankfully, he doesn't have to wonder long.
Daeyoung pulls into the dim parking lot of Sion's apartment building, hands trembling as he places his car into park, then turns to him with hesitance. "I'll be honest...I was really nervous about today. I don't—I don't usually go on blind dates like this but I trust Yushi-hyung, and I'm glad that I did. I had a lot of fun tonight. I hope you did too."
He's biting his lip, looking so nervous that Sion feels like a fool for thinking his feelings weren't reciprocated.
"I did too. It's one of the best dates I've been on in a while," Sion says truthfully and then reaches over, hand coming up to rest on Daeyoung's shoulder. His belly turns at the touch, even though he's the one delivering it. "Um…do you maybe wanna come up?"
"Oh, uh, sure. I'll walk you up."
Jesus. Does he ever stop being a gentleman? How does he always know the right thing to say? Is there some sort of 'Idiots Guidebook to Being a Nice Guy' that all of Sion's previous dates failed to tune into? Or was Daeyoung just an anomaly amongst men...
He walks Sion up to his apartment, stopping at the front door. They chat for a bit longer and Sion tries not to let his antsiness show. He wants to grab Daeyoung and pull him inside and kiss him silly. And maybe some other stuff too, but that's neither here nor there.
"Again, I had a really good time tonight, Sion-hyung." Sion's not sure if it's just his riled up brain talking, but the way Daeyoung says his name sounds sultry. Or maybe it's just the fact that it's the first time he's said it all night. He's not in his right mind to be able to tell with clarity. Either way, it sends a chill down his spine.
"Me too," Sion breathes out, biting his lip.
He's doing everything in his power to telepathically communicate to Daeyoung to kiss him, but it doesn't seem to work, because after a few seconds of tense gazing, the younger mutters, "Well, I should probably head out."
And he's smiling at Sion with such a genuine look of fondness that his stomach starts to coil. God, is he this easy? Is this really all that it takes? A smile and he's spreading his legs for the first suitor?
"Do you wanna come inside?" Sion rushes out, not trying to hide the suggestion in his tone.
Daeyoung looks surprised at the question, shifting back and forth from heel to toe while his hands awkwardly dangle at his sides. "I—uh. Um, I don't—you don't need to—"
Sion steps forward. His hand slides down the lapel of Daeyoung's blazer but he looks up at the younger the entire time. When he gets to the end, he tugs at the fabric, bringing Daeyoung closer to him. God, Sion is twisted, because the tremble of Daeyoung's hands that reach up to rest over his only makes the heat in his stomach pool faster. It's been a while since someones been this nervous at the proposition of being invited into his home.
He can hear Daeyoung's breath hitch as he inches forward, closer and closer until their noses are touching.
Everything about this has Sion buzzing with excitement. In the back of his mind, he thinks about how Daeyoung must be seeing him right now, thinking he's some cheap slut, willing to lie down with whoever on the first date. He would be wrong, of course, but Sion can't even bring himself to care if Daeyoung did. Right now, he wants this more than words can describe.
Daeyoung isn't pulling away, but he isn't pushing forward. He isn't doing anything except look at Sion with those eyes that are somehow unreadable yet convey so much. His breath is hot on Sion's lips. He looks up, searching for something; searching for a reason to surge forward take what he wants. What he knows—hopes—Daeyoung wants too. After a while of nothing, Sion realizes it's up to him. Daeyoung is too polite. Which, for the first time tonight, Sion abhors.
Fuck it, he thinks. A breath later, Sion kisses him.
Daeyoung kisses exactly how Sion expected. He's hesitant, not fully leaning into the kiss until Sion grips the fabric of his jacket taut and pulls him in close. His hands slide underneath it, onto Daeyoung's stomach to rest there, and he's shocked to find the hard abdomen that lies there.
Then, Daeyoung touches him. It's light, just his hands resting on Sion's hips, but it's something. It's fuel for Sion to keep pursuing this.
Pressing his tongue against Daeyoung's lips is a bold move, but proves to be a success, as he opens up with a soft moan that has Sion wanting to devour him whole. Even kissing Daeyoung is new, with his trepid touches and gentle noises. Despite those, there's something solid about the way he kisses. The way he takes everything Sion gives like it's the best thing in the world and doesn't complain.
He pulls Daeyoung in deeper, shuffles back so he's pressed against the front door. This spurs the younger apparently, as he slides both large hands up to Sion's waist, squeezes at the flesh there. Sion moans at the touch. Daeyoung's hands splay across his ribcage, almost completely covering the span of it.
Sion wants them all over him.
But to his dismay, Daeyoung pulls away soon after, pressing Sion against the door firmly.
"I should—I should go," Daeyoung whispers against his lips.
"Come inside." This time when Sion says it, it's not a suggestion.
"Okay, yeah," Daeyoung breathes out with a nod.
Sion wastes no time fumbling with his keypad, incorrectly inputting his password twice because his focus lies solely on the distracting hands that rest on his hips. The second it beeps and flashes green, Sion is pulling Daeyoung inside, not wasting a second before connecting their lips back together.
He pushes Daeyoung against the door—a little rough—and this time, the kiss is messy. Sion doesn't try and hide his want anymore, moaning loudly into Daeyoung's mouth. His hands feel up the youngers chest, sliding down slowly, giving him the opportunity to tell Sion to stop. To slow down. Anything.
When his hands land just above Daeyoung's belt buckle and the man doesn't say a word, Sion smiles. One of his hands find its way below the leather, cupping him gently through his pants.
Sion parts from the younger, but remains close, eyeing the way Daeyoung's eyes shut as he gropes him. His mouth falls open at the same time his head knocks back against the door, a quiet throaty moan slipping past his lips.
"Is this okay?" Sion asks. A necessary question perhaps before he started groping Daeyoung, but hey, at least he asked.
"Yeah," Daeyoung swallows, "yes."
"You know," Sion says, rubbing Daeyoung's growing bulge, kissing along the length of his jawline, "you don't seem like the type to hook up on the first date. I wasn't expecting this from you."
He continues, "I was hoping—God, was I hoping—but I never expected you would. I'm pleasantly surprised."
"I–I'm not," Daeyoung wheezes, "I've never—not on the first date. You're just—fuck—really hot. And forward."
"Yeah?" Sion preens under the praise, and then pushes for more, "and what else?"
"Fuck," Daeyoung groans when Sion nips on his earlobe, "a-and your smile is really pretty."
Sion almost laughs—almost—because out of all the things he'd been expecting Daeyoung to say, that was definitely not one of them. But if there's anything Sion's good at, it's turning a seemingly innocent comment into something completely the opposite.
"Want my pretty lips around your cock?" Sion squeezes tighter at his length, pushing him further into the door.
"Oh god," his voice trembles as his hands find Sion's shoulders. They don't push or pull or grip, just rest there as a vice. "Yes I want that."
Sion chuckles at the remark but his own cock twitches at the conviction in his voice—the unabashed honesty. He sounds earnest, eager, in a way Sion hasn't heard a man in a while. For other men it usually seems like a given. Like, of course Sion's going to give head. But Daeyoung makes it sound as if he's just won a prize. As if Sion's just offered him the crowned jewel.
He falls to his knees with vigor he hasn't felt in months. Shit, maybe years. He's sweating just at the thought of getting Daeyoung inside his mouth. Antsy for it.
Sion's not sure what to expect, but what he's felt so far has been nothing but promising. And because Daeyoung is apparently Sion's wet dream walking, he delivers.
Sion fiddles with Daeyoung's belt with some difficulty before he's unzipping the youngers pants and tugging them down mid-thigh. His bulge is pretty big already, and Sion can tell he's not even fully hard.
He mouths at the fabric, gazing up at Daeyoung through lidded eyes. Daeyoung's eyes are clenched shut, face half hidden behind the back of his hand. Sion's never really put too much thought into his "dream guy" but now that Daeyoung is in front of him, he thinks this might be it.
No longer able to keep teasing, for both his and Daeyoung's sake, he pulls down his briefs, wasting no time before he's mouthing at the length.
Sion likes giving head, he's good at it—he knows this, especially when Daeyoung moans out and reaches into his hair hesitantly at the first stripe of his tongue down his cock. He likes putting on a performance, too, gazing up at the younger through lidded eyes, hollowing his cheeks more than necessary as he swallows Daeyoung down.
And Daeyoung is especially receptive to the way Sion moans around his length, throat convulsing as he takes him as deep as physically possible. He grasps at the back of Daeyoung's thighs, pulling him closer. Spit drips down his chin messily when he widens his lips to make himself choke on Daeyoung's dick. He's pulling out all the stops, doing everything he can to make the younger come.
He starts to question his abilities when he's been at it for a good ten minutes—which in blowjob time is an eternity and a half—and Daeyoung hasn't shown any signs of being close. His jaw is beginning to ache and his throat is starting to become sore, but his mom didn't raise a quitter.
Well, not that she'd be too proud of her son on his knees choking on cock but…Sion likes to think it's the sentiment that counts.
"You know," Sion rasps out, looking up at Daeyoung as he strokes him, the glide easy with the amount of saliva coating him. "You can come in my mouth if that's what you're afraid of."
Daeyoung blinks down at him, lips bitten red, and cheeks an equally dark shade of crimson. He's sweating, too, still clad in his turtleneck and outwear.
"I'm uh—it's not that," he looks away, embarrassed, and then turns back to Sion. "It's just…really hard for me to come from this."
"Oh?" Sion raises an eyebrow. Suddenly, he feels like a challenge has appeared in front of him.
"Yeah it's—sorry I should've warned you before."
"Is it possible?" Sion questions, a fire burning inside of him.
"What?"
"Like, can you come from head? Has anyone ever made you?" Sion's always been naturally competitive in everything he does. Sex is no exception.
"Um, yeah." Daeyoung's eyebrows furrow, his lip curling in a way that's too cute for Sion to have his hand still wrapped around him. "Maybe once or twice."
Third times the charm, Sion thinks, before he's bowing his head back onto Daeyoung.
"Fuck—you don't—oh god," Daeyoung groans. "You don't have to keep going."
Sion doesn't respond, too busy taking Daeyoung into his throat again, gagging until he can barely breath. He lifts up, taking a shallow breath before diving back down again.
He hasn't tried this hard to make someone come in a long time—he hasn't needed to. Though right now, he burns with the desire to implant himself into the faux hall of fame of people who have made Daeyoung come from head.
Another five minutes passes, then five more, and Sion's about to give up. He'll definitely have to nurse his jaw on some ice tomorrow, and speaking is surely out of the question. But it would be all worth it if Daeyoung would just fucking come.
Sion refuses to stop and ask if he's close, and Daeyoung has been moaning and grunting at a consistent level this entire time. He'll tense up every so often, and Sion thinks this must be it, until nothing happens.
This is the longest Sion's given head—his own personal record—and though he knows it's not his fault that Daeyoung is taking so long to finish, it's still a massive bruise to his ego. Maybe it's not good, maybe Daeyoung was lying to spare him the embarrassment.
Just when Sion is about to throw in the towel, Daeyoung's voice sounds.
"Hyung," he moans, higher pitched than the rest, and shaky. His hands feed into Sion's hair again, loosely gripping the locs. "I'm—I'm gonna come."
Sion lights up like a Christmas tree, but his jaw really fucking hurts. He pulls off of Daeyoung and wraps a hand around him, stroking him fast and rough, hoping he didn't just fuck everything up. But a few moments later the younger is spilling into his hand, a little on his chin and lower lips.
Selfishly, the first thing he does afterwards is make sure none found its way onto his clothing.
Daeyoung's knees buckle slightly when Sion continues stroking him through it, until he's hissing with sensitivity.
He stands up, his own legs almost giving out from how long he's been kneeling, and makes his way to the kitchen, washing off the remnants of Daeyoung off of his face and hands. When he returns, Daeyoung is slumped up against the door, pants pulled up but still unbuckled.
"Wow," he breathes out. "That was…"
"Good?" Sion's voice croaks on the delivery. Maybe he shouldn't have pushed himself that hard. He'll definitely regret this later, but currently, he feels on top of the world. Filled with the pride of someone who just achieved their lifelong dream rather than made someone come.
"Better than good," Daeyoung looks at him and smiles. Sion bites his lip in an attempt to contain the grin that threatens to appear. He fails spectacularly when Daeyoung utters the following words: "Not to be crude but…the best I've ever had."
Sion pulls him up and into a kiss.
It's slower this time, because Sion's jaw still hurts and also because it's what he thinks the younger deserves. Daeyoung kisses even better like this, attentive to every inch of Sion, sliding his hands along his frame, teetering dangerously low on occasion. But still respectful. Always respectful. Sion can't take it.
Their bodies collide as Sion wraps his arms around Daeyoung's neck. Experimentally, he grinds against the bony hip in front of him, letting out a series of quiet moans into Daeyoung's mouth.
"Do you want some help with that?" Daeyoung chuckles against Sion's lips.
Sion wants everything, if Daeyoung is the one giving it.
He wasn't really planning on having sex tonight—even when he'd initially invited Daeyoung in—but of course he's still prepared. And yes, Sion is the type of person to shave before a concert. Really, you should be prepared for anything at all times.
"Want you to fuck me," Sion blinks up at him. For some reason, he feels nervous saying this. Daeyoung's well in his right to say no, he doesn't owe Sion anything. But still, his stomach turns as he waits for Daeyoung's response.
"You want that?" Daeyoung responds. It's not condescending or catty, the way he says it, but a tone of genuine surprise.
"So bad," Sion emphasizes this with a lingering kiss to his lips, and then another on his neck, right where his pulse-point lies.
"That's–" Daeyoung squeezes his hip involuntarily, like Sion's a stressball for his nerves.
"Oh, are you a gentle lover? Is that it?" Sion says patronizingly. He's much more talkative than he should be, really, and typically never this mean, but something about Daeyoung is bringing it out of him in full force. "You like to make love?"
Daeyoung nods, desperate. "Yeah." He gulps. Sion feels it on his lips. "I do."
"Not me," he licks a stripe across Daeyoung's jawline, hot and nasty, salty with sweat. "I like to fuck. I want you to fuck me."
"A-are you sure?"
"Why is it that I only had to ask you once before I was on my knees sucking you off, yet here I am practically begging you to fuck me and you're asking if I'm sure?" Sion's voice is borderline whiny, any ounce of shame inside him replaced with desire. "I've never had to work this hard for a guy to have sex with me in my life."
This seems to trigger something in Daeyoung.
"I'm—" he releases a shaky exhale. "I'm sorry...I can't do this."
He pushes away from Sion.
The rejection hits him like a truck. His lungs feel punctured, like all the air is leaving him in bits and pieces and he can't seem to cover the holes in time. It feels dramatic—because it is—but Sion is left feeling hollow. He can't get everything he wants obviously, and he's fine with that. Except, this isn't just anything, it's Daeyoung, and it's paining him beyond belief that he can't have him.
Sion is speechless, afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he speaks. Anger, tears.
"I shouldn't have come inside. I shouldn't have let you—" Daeyoung sighs. "I just...I don't want this to be a one night stand. I don't want to be some guy that you sleep with. I like you a lot, which is stupid considering we just met, but if that's what this is going to be I just— I'm sorry but I can't say yes."
Sion gazes at him, confused, and then his emotions level. When Daeyoung steps further away from him, Sion's quick to pull him back.
"You think I want this to be a one night stand?" Sion quips.
"I don't know what I think," Daeyoung shakes his head. "It's just…a guy like you going for a guy like me seems like a fever dream."
"A guy like you?" Sion's voice softens. "Someone who's nice and attentive and amazing. What more could I want?"
"I'm not fishing for compliments here but, you're a model. I'm just...me." He chuckles pathetically.
"Daeyoung," Sion says seriously. "You're literally the most incredible guy I've ever gone out with. We don't have to do anything tonight if you don't want, but I'm still going to expect you to ask me out for a second date regardless of what happens. I like you too. I want this—us—to work out. More than you know."
The confession is vulnerable, more than Sion is comfortable with, but it's all true. It's true and desperate and Sion prays to the God he doesn't even believe in that it works because if not...he doesn't know how he'll recover from this. From the possibility of something he's wanted for so long without even knowing.
Daeyoung smiles at this, which makes Sion smile in turn. Then, he kisses him.
His hands trail down Sion's sides hesitantly, like he's still deciding what to do, then he pulls away, breath ghosting over the elders lips. "Do you," Sion grips him like a lifeline in anticipation of his next words, "do you still want me to..fuck you?"
Sion nods so hard he feels dizzy—or maybe it's the rush of blood that flows directly to his dick. He presses his lips back against Daeyoung's in a bruising kiss.
When Daeyoung slides his hands down, finally gripping Sion's ass in his palms, he wraps his legs around the youngers waist. Then, he lifts Sion up with an ease that makes him moan.
"My bedroom's that way," Sion says in between kisses.
Daeyoung guides them carefully into Sion's bedroom, kneeling onto the bed and gently laying the elder onto the mattress.
"Ignore the mess," Sion pants out.
"I assure you, I'm not focused on that in the slightest."
Sion heats up at the words as he tugs at Daeyoung's blazer and rushes to remove his own jacket. Daeyoung assists, and when he's about to toss the article onto the floor, Sion abruptly interrupts him.
"Wait!" he yelps. "Not the Dior…please. It's—sorry just, not on the floor."
"Okay," Daeyoung chuckles, but helps him cautiously remove all his clothes until he's left in only his briefs, then places the clothes neatly onto Sion's dresser.
The gesture, though simple, makes Sion blush. He'd usually just grit his teeth when one night stands or dates threw all of his clothes around, but Daeyoung's given him every inclination tonight that he wouldn't judge.
"What about these?" Daeyoung toys with the waistband of Sion's briefs. He shivers at the touch. "Says…Bal–Balenk–"
"Balenciaga. Fuck them," Sion reaches up to pull Daeyoung into another kiss.
He's attentive as he slides his hands up Sion's bare torso, feeling along every dip, every muscle and bone as he passes along them. When Daeyoung graces his nipples, he lets out a loud moan, arching into the touch.
As eager as he was earlier, he's satisfied with just this. With the press of Daeyoung's lips against his and touch of his hands. It feels oddly intimate, what they're doing, even though it's just kissing—more serious than fucking on the first date should feel.
But after a while, Sion grows impatient. He's rock hard in his briefs and every glide of Daeyoung's hands against his skin only makes him ache more.
Sion doesn't think he's easy to read, yet he feels transparent around Daeyoung, because the second he starts to squirm, the younger is attending to him.
"Lube?" Daeyoung's hands are all over him and Sion feels like he's on cloud nine. Exactly where he wants to be.
He reaches over to his nightstand, fumbling around until he sees the small bottle and a loose foil packet.
"Take these off," Sion pulls at Daeyoung's top. He sheds his clothes quickly, with a lot less care than the elder, and in a minute he's mirroring Sion's state of undress.
He takes a minute to admire Daeyoung's physique. He's no bodybuilder, not that Sion's into that anyway, but he's got a toned stomach, and arms that for sure have seen the gym recently. Sion feels him up, unashamed, watching as the muscles contort underneath his touch. Daeyoung's twitches when Sion's hand lands right above his waistband, and the elder bites his lip knowing what lies beneath.
Sion is no virgin—that's for sure—but when the realization of what they're about to do hits, he's suddenly nervous. He sits up, taking one last glance at Daeyoung before shimmying off his briefs, turning around, and bending over.
Daeyoung's hand is on his ass a beat later, palming at one of the cheeks with a hitched breath.
"Fuck," the explicative is forced past his lips. "Do you like it like this?"
Again, said with genuine curiosity rather than cockiness.
Sion nods, burying his face into the pillow in front of him. Sweat has already started to form at his hairline and the nape of his neck. He's hot all over, he can feel the flush that spreads down to his chest as he waits for Daeyoung to do something.
At first, there's nothing except the heavy weight of Daeyoung's gaze on him. Then, he feels a shift on the bed, and the sound of his lube cap flipping open, and his stomach lurches.
The feeling of Daeyoung's cold digits on his rim makes him flinch. His touch is gentle, though, and that makes Sion relax as he smears lube onto the puckered hole.
It's been a while since he's had sex. Even since he's had anything inside of him. So the intrusion of one of Daeyoung's thick fingers has him hissing out. It's not painful—at least, not in a way that bothers him. It's more uncomfortable; foreign.
Daeyoung is slow, which is good because Sion needs it. Sion is also impatient and knows it won't be long until he's pleading for more.
The younger works him open with a single finger for a while, until Sion takes it to the knuckle with no issue. Even then, he doesn't prod another finger in until Sion is squirming against him, arching his back, clearly ready. And because Daeyoung's worked him open so well, or maybe because Sion is so desperate for it, the second finger slides in against the first easily. Like Sion has somehow mapped the shape of Daeyoung's fingers and made room for more.
He usually finds this part tedious, a precursor to the main event, but the digits inside him feel so good that he can't even complain; only moan out and take whatever Daeyoung has to give. Soon, he's adding a third, and Sion writhes when he pushes against his prostate.
Daeyoung's pace is slow, steady, and when he realizes he's hit that special spot in Sion, he drives at it continuously with a persistence that has him crying out. His lower belly blossoms with heat, pre-cum spurting out of him the more Daeyoung focuses on the spot.
Eventually, he reaches behind him, grasping at Daeyoung's wrist with labored breath. "Fuck me," he begs.
His head is still buried into the pillow, too embarrassed to look behind him. A second later Daeyoung is slowly sliding his fingers out.
Sion knows what he probably looks like right now: face down, back arched, hole gaped as he waits for Daeyoung's cock. Yet all he wants in the moment is for Daeyoung to fill him, for him to tower Sion, make him feel small, suffocate him until he feels like he can't breath—can't think.
"I'm going to put it in now," Daeyoung says through the heated silence, breathless.
"Don't tell me," Sion whines, "just do it."
And he finally looks back, lifts his head enough just to see the mess that is Daeyoung behind him. He's pink down to his neck, and he's looking at Sion with lidded eyes that make goosebumps rise on his skin.
"Please," Sion breathes out. His senses are heightened, and he knows he won't last long at this rate, but he needs Daeyoung inside of him more than the other knows.
"Okay," Daeyoung nods, soothing a hand down Sion's spine as he lines his cock up against his hole.
Sion feels the head slide in with ease, which makes him feel like a slut. Like he's made for this, made only to take cock. And while the feeling usually has him feeling sick, right now he embraces it—fiends for it. He is a slut in this moment; he's a slut for Daeyoung. A hole for Daeyoung's use.
For his pleasure.
He gets like this sometimes during sex. Too into his head, starts thinking too much about everything: how the other person is seeing him, perceiving him, how he's acting, what he's saying. But the moment Daeyoung slips in fully, Sion's mind goes blank, only blaring sirens of pleasure coursing through him.
The younger groans, hands gripping Sion's waist with bruising strength.
"I'm uh," he grits out, "I'm not going to last as long as I did earlier. As a warning."
"It's okay," Sion swallows. His mouth feels like sandpaper and his throat is feeling the effects of earlier tenfold. "Me too, just—please."
Daeyoung makes a noise of affirmation, swearing when he pulls out to slide back in. His grip tightens, painful in a way that has Sion keening.
He fucks Sion slowly; too close to making love. Too intimate for Sion who's already feeling more than he can handle.
Sion cries out at a particularly deep thrust, pressed snug inside him. Daeyoung fucks Sion like he knows him, and he doesn't like it. Doesn't like the way his touches grow gentle or the soft, cooing, sounds that spill out of him, too fond. Too much.
"Harder," Sion rasps, barely audible even to himself. But of course, Daeyoung hears him. His speed picks up, but it's still not enough, Sion still feels the tenderness beneath his touch.
Mustering all the strength he can, he gathers himself onto his elbows and slams his hips back, matching Daeyoung thrust for thrust. The youngers grip tightens back up again as he groans, fucking up into Sion with a new unreserved passion.
This…this Sion can handle. Being treated like he's unbreakable, indestructible.
Daeyoung's hand lands on the nape of his neck, a dull pressure as he drives harder into Sion, a surprising action that has him practically wailing.
The sound of skin on skin resonates through the room and the smell of sex permeates the air. Sion doesn't know if he's being dramatic, but he doesn't think sex has ever felt this good. His mind feels like it's melting, his body on overdrive.
Daeyoung starts to lose himself in it, the grip on Sion's neck growing tighter as he forces the elders head into the pillow. Sion claws the sheets in front of him, mouth propped open as he takes it.
"Am I hurting you?" Daeyoung groans but continues his incessant pace.
"Yes," Sion moans, "keep going."
His pace stutters, but he's back on track in a split second. Sion's so close, he feels like he's losing his mind. Maybe he is. Maybe he's been on the brink of insanity this whole time and Daeyoung is the one to push him over the edge.
"Tell me I'm good," Sion spills out. He should be embarrassed by the words, but he's not. It's not something he ever admits or asks for but he's so lost in the moment that he feels nothing. Not an ounce of guilt or shame or mortification.
All he feels is Daeyoung.
"You're good," Daeyoung grits out without pause, without a second to think or question Sion's strange request. "So good. Taking my dick so well. Like you were made for it."
Sion almost comes right there, the words taking him by complete surprise.
"So pretty, all of you. Everything." Daeyoung continues, rubbing a thumb along his rim. Sion feels like he's going to explode. "Fuck, you're perfect."
This, paired with Daeyoung wrapping a hand loosely around his cock, is what sends him over. He clenches down, overwhelmed, ears ringing as his body trembles through his orgasm.
Daeyoung follows shortly after, holding Sion in place as he stills, a guttural groan seeping past his lips.
When he pulls out, Sion collapses onto the bed, not bothering to care about the mess that surrounds him.
It's silent afterwards, save for their labored breaths sounding back and forth. Daeyoung still hasn't moved, and Sion still hasn't looked at him. He doesn't want to.
"Do you—er, where's your bathroom?" Daeyoung pants.
Sion waves vaguely in the direction of his ensuite. He's still trying to come to, his mind clouded in a post-orgasm haze.
The bed creaks as Daeyoung's weight is removed and Sion lies there with his eyes shut. He can't comprehend these past few hours. As much as he wants to believe everything is perfect, he still can't. There's still something lingering, as there always is with Sion.
A few moment pass, and then another, until Sion starts to squirm with discomfort, eyeing the door every couple of seconds as he waits for Daeyoung's return.
He takes so long in the bathroom that the icky thoughts flood Sion's brain. Begging for praise? Seriously? Like, he couldn't at least wait until the second date to unleash his Sion-isms? At this point, will there even be a second date?
Just when he's teetering on the edge of a full-on spiral, his bathroom door opens. Daeyoung pops out, hesitant.
"I uh…hope this isn't like Chanel or something," he holds up a washcloth, damp with water.
Sion bites his lip to contain a grin, shaking his head as Daeyoung pads over. The cloth is warm as Daeyoung glides it over Sion's body, wiping up remnants of the past half hour.
When he's done, he tries to stand up, but Sion won't let him. Instead, he takes the washcloth out of his hand, tossing it to a random corner of the room—a problem for another time—and pulls Daeyoung down for a kiss.
They lie like that for a while, kissing in a way Sion rarely ever does. Gentle, tender, soft touches that he doesn't second guess or try to push away. It's nice.
When they part, Daeyoung looks at him, uncertainty plastered all over his face. Sion's own face mimics it.
"Do you want me to…?" he gestures at Sion's bedroom door.
He shakes his head. If he's sure about anything, it's this. He doesn't want to be alone. Not tonight. Not when his emotions are running AWOL and he feels like Daeyoung is the only thing keeping him steady. His anchor. "Stay. This isn't a one night stand, remember?"
"Okay."
It's silent again, but comfortable. Sion likes this, he could get used to it. However, his mind still reels. The never-ending loop of thoughts—it never stops.
"I'm not—I don't usually do this on the first date. Despite what it might seem like," Sion traces a finger along Daeyoung's chest. "Like, I'm not easy. I don't want you to think I'm easy."
"I don't think you're easy," Daeyoung assures.
"Sure," Sion rolls his eyes. "Just a guy who practically begged you to fuck him on the first date."
"I wanted it too, believe it or not," he laughs, pulling Sion closer.
"Who are you Kim Daeyoung?" Sion says through his own fit of laughter. "I've spent my entire life dating douchebags and here you just pop up out of nowhere, nice and polite and…perfect."
"Okay, I am not perfect," Daeyoung shakes his head.
"Yeah?" Sion raises an eyebrow. "Name one flaw you have."
"Hm," Daeyoung hums. Sion feels the rumble beneath him. "I sing too loudly in the shower."
"Oh that is such a non-issue!" Sion slaps him playfully.
"Seriously! My old roommate moved out because of it." Daeyoung laughs. "Just wait, one day you'll hear it."
Sion sighs as he imagines it. It's strange to think, after not even knowing Daeyoung for a day he's imagining their future together, but this is exactly what he wanted. What he's been wishing for since forever. Maybe this is a sign. Maybe for once he should listen to himself; trust his gut.
Then, he says something that pulls Sion out of his thoughts. "Sorry, that was really presumptuous of me…"
"No, it wasn't." Sion rebuts. "Well, it was, but the right amount. I hope to hear it. Maybe then I'll believe that you're not perfect."
Daeyoung smiles at him and it makes Sion's heart swell. He lays his head on the youngers chest with an exhale, and without a second thought, falls asleep.