unknownballad | Open RP Post

[He's so cute. Siwan is so cute. There's an honest to god ache in Seb's chest when Siwan ducks his head so sweetly, insists that he doesn't want to become an imposition... he really has no idea of the effect he has on Seb. Not a clue.]

If you didn't, I'd just wind up being the one that keeps dragging you over here.

[Is that too frank? They've laid some of their cards on the table, certainly, but there's still enough hanging up in the air between them that Seb's not sure. Now that Siwan has come back once, Seb just doesn't want him to leave again without knowing that he's... he's what?]

You're not like anybody else I've ever met, you know? I know you're not... available, but I still like having you around. [Now it's Seb that's gone over all shy, poking at his food with his chopsticks to avoid making eye contact.]

(( Dragging. As if Siwan would put up much fight to do something he actually enjoys with someone he really enjoys being around. As if Seb would show up at his home with some lie about being a work colleague and needing Siwan for some important thing or other. Okay, that mental images is actually plausible. Well, if Seb knew where Siwan lives.

The shift in Seb's demeanor doesn't go unnoticed. In fact, it pulls Siwan's focus back completely to him. The subdued tone, the body language. And what Seb's saying on top of it. Siwan doesn't have the most experience with situations like this (and if all Seb wanted was a tumble in bed with someone, there are a lot of other options out there than a repressed, married man. Of course, he hasn't considered that the obstacles might increase the appeal). It feels genuine to him.

It feels like the realest thing he's ever had a taste of. For how long will a mere taste be enough? For how long will thinking (knowing?) Seb wants him be enough? Isn't already not enough? Isn't that why Siwan texted him in the first place? Because just knowing it isn't enough. Seeing it with his own, sober eyes, feeling it in the unspoken tension in the air between them. That's what Siwan wanted. He wants to see just how close he can get to the fire. ))

I meant it when I said I can't get you out of mind.

[Will it still be there when they're both sober and in a less sexually charged environment? Would it have played out differently in a cafe or park? Seb's turned those same questions over in his head, and he feels the same conflicted relief every time electricity crackles between them from something as simple as a look.

They really do get along. They really do want each other. And it seems that they're finally getting around to answering Siwan's question from earlier: what happens now?]

I know. That's what I wanted to happen. [Again, brutal and almost compulsively blurted out honesty. Seb winces at the callousness of his own words but he still can't stop talking:] I just didn't expect to be in the same position... but like I said, you're different.

(( Maybe it's brutal and unfiltered, but... There's something refreshing about it, too. How can he feel any other way about complete transparent honesty when every aspect of his public life (his life outside of this apartment, at the moment) is predicated on a lie?

It does, however, prompt a question. One Siwan considers while he finally shoves a delicate bite of food into his mouth. And once it's dealt with... ))

Would we even be talking now if I hadn't stopped you in the bathroom?

(( There's a slight hitch in his voice before the last word. Because the very memory it burns so brightly in his mind he can still feel Seb's body against his, taste his lips... ))

[A fair question, and the assumption behind it is just as fair. Still, Seb can’t help but chuckle at how utterly doomed the two of them are before he gives his answer.]

Oh yeah. Probably even sooner. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not someone who stops wanting something as soon as I get it - if anything, I crave it even more.

[Not exactly going to help with the heat once again rising between them, is it?]

(( Please don't mind Siwan pressing bites of food into his mouth one right after the other. To keep his mouth from going try. To make it look more natural when he has to swallow after what Seb says.

Is this really what it feels like to be wanted? Is it this near constant feverish feel, this sort of over-sensitivity prickling across his skin, that deep, molten heat churning low in his belly that's threatening to erupt? It's so unexpected and... desperately wanted. Heat, passion, it's something he's only ever seen from afar. There's no great love between he and his wife, never has been. There's hardly even affection. Theirs was basically an arranged marriage, so, maybe it's not all that unexpected that he's been lacking in all of that.

And then there's the other issue. The one that took him to a gay club for a glimpse at what he can't have. But here's Seb, practically offering it to him. Something fiery. Something real, for however brief it may be. So much of Siwan wants to reach out and take it with both hands, to grab it tight and hold on for as long as he can. But the practical side him is holding back. That side of him that knows how damning an affair would be to more than just him.

He washes down the mouthful of food he barely tasted with a long drink of the lychee juice and, for a moment that stretches on maybe a little too long, he simply stares over at Seb. There's awe there. And longing. And so many other things Siwan has no name for. Then, very quietly as he sets his dishes aside: ))

You crave me?

[Oh, it's really getting hot now. Seb already knows that look well enough to make his heartrate spike and the back of his neck flush with warmth, to say nothing of the low, charged tone in Siwan's voice. He can feel each heartbeat in every single pulse point, even his temples.]

From the second I saw you.

[Seb didn't even want to talk to anyone at that club until he saw Siwan. Whatever the draw may have been, whatever he was thinking when he sent that drink and however those initial plans changed, there's no denying the magnetism that pulled them together.

Almost on autopilot, Seb sets his own dishes on the table as well. He can feel something giving way underneath them and he doesn't particularly want to catch himself if they start to fall.]

(( Siwan feels it so keenly, that tension pulled so tight it feels like it could snap at any moment. He felt it the moment their eyes met at that club. He hasn't really stopped feeling it, there were simply distractions when they weren't together. And if being in a crowded club wasn't a deterrent, what's to keep the dam from breaking when they're completely and utterly alone (sorry Opet!)? Nothing, really. Nothing but the space between them (which Siwan wouldn't mind if that shrank significantly.

But he can't bring himself to move. Well, he can't bring himself to move from his seat. Surely even with the whole couch separating them, Seb can hear his heart pounding. Siwan feels like it's a bird beating its wings to hard it might actually escape. He hears his blood rushing in his ears, but somehow still heard every syllable of Seb's response; the very response he hoped for. But what to do with it now?

It isn't just that he yearned to feel this from someone else. It's not that one-sided. Maybe that's what always made it so hard to find: he wanted to feel some kind of desire equal to his own. That pent up desire borne of a lifetime of shame and hiding, the burning, boiling want to feel himself pulled toward someone else who feels that same undeniable attraction. And that's exactly what this is: some kind of cosmic magnetism pulling them together.

He really means to exhale, that's all, but the needy whimper that comes with it startles him. ))

[That noise. That fucking noise.

Seb moves without even thinking, his body pulled across the couch on hands and knees until he looms over Siwan with lust smoldering in his dark eyes. He threads a hand into Siwan's hair and tilts his head up, then leans right past his mouth to whisper into his ear:]

Don't worry about anything. Don't even think. You can blame this one on me.

[Of course Seb knows that might not be possible. They might hit the same wall when Siwan's conscience overpowers his desire and part every bit as frustrated as they did the first time, and Seb hasn't exactly got much experience when it comes to dealing with one's conscience. But it's worth a try, right?

That's what he tells himself, at least, before pressing his lips to Siwan's in a completely different sort of kiss than the ones they shared at the club - not frantic and ravenous but slow, deep, and thorough.]

(( See? Gravity.

At first, for just a fleeting second, Siwan finds himself shrinking away, pressing himself back against the arm of the couch as if he could find more space there. Instinct, training, whatever it was, he quickly pushed it aside. Distance is the last thing he wants when Seb moves in so close Siwan can feel the heat of him.

Seb's hands in his hair send flashes of that first touch... Seb's fingers brushed the back of his neck that night they met. And Siwan's been thinking about them ever since. SUch a small thing, a subtle thing that maybe someone else might over look, but every point of contact sparked with fire. Then and now.

That breath against his ear sends a full-body shiver running through Siwan. He doesn't forget to breathe so much as simply hold his breath in anticipation. Don't think. Please, help him turn the thought off. He's sure Seb can do it. He's so sure that Seb can obliterate any worries that plague him, even if only for a little bit. Please, give him that respite. Please. The word's on his tongue like a weight, almost formed and brought into the world when those lips he could never forget press to his once more.

And the dam breaks.

Siwan sags in relief. Maybe later he'll be thankful he's sitting, that the arm of the couch is behind for him to lean again. But later. Later. Not now. Now, he shifts to close more of the distance between them. Now, Siwan forgets the whole world beyond the door, even beyond this couch (sorry again, Opet!). Now, he reaches out, uncertain but without much hesitation. Now, he balls his hands in Seb's shirt, tugging insistently for more contact, for more of him.

And while this certainly isn't his first kiss, it may as well be the first one that matters. There's a beat, maybe two before he responds in kind. This may never happen again, so Siwan has to map out the unfamiliar curves and contour's of Seb's mouth. He has to savor the dirty slide of their tongues against each other. He's not trying to lead the dance, but he knows how to follow along. ))

[That obvious push and pull, advance and retreat ambivalence written all over every movement of Siwan's body doesn't exactly bother Seb at this point, but it's an undeniable rush to feel pull win out the moment their lips meet. He's more than happy to get closer, lean his weight against Siwan to let him feel the power in his physique as he explores Siwan's mouth with so much more care than the first time. Turns out Siwan's quite a good kisser, in fact, when he's given the chance to react in kind.

Their position isn't exactly ideal, though. Seb wants to get his hands on Siwan and give him the option of doing the same, neither of which is possible with Siwan wedged into the corner of the couch and Seb sort of draped over him this way. Pushing aside a brief worry that the spell might break if he hesitates now, Seb sits up just enough to brush the pad of his thumb over Siwan's damp lips, unconsciously licking his own lower lip at the sight of him so thoroughly kiss-drunk.]

Sit up a little, hmm? It'll be worth it, promise.

(( Kissing he has practice with. Lack of attraction aside, he is intimate with his wife (they do have two children together, after all). Kissing he feels pretty confident about. It's most of the rest (specifically with someone he's attracted to [a man] and outside of his marriage [woops!]) that he's not certain about. But he's doing well at not thinking right now. Seb's a great distraction for pesky thoughts.

God, but he's so good-looking! That in and of itself could be distraction enough. Add the easy charm on top of it. Siwan was doomed from the moment they laid eyes on each other. He stares up at Seb, wide eyes dark with a want the echoes the god's. He even leans in subtly when Seb's finger brushes against his lips. Why is such a simple gesture so damn erotic? If Siwan wasn't already breathless from their kiss, that move would've been enough to get him there.

There's a slight delay — the time needed for what Seb said to worm its way through the lustful fog wrapped around his brain and actually get processed — before Siwan nods. Right. If they stay like this with him all huddled up in the corner... It won't be comfortable. Comfortable for what? That's the real question isn't it? He's not particularly comfortable anyway with how tight his pants are feeling suddenly.

No thinking! No thinking about that.

Siwan sits up a bit more, shifting to extricate himself from the corner and sit like a normal person. He pointedly moves away from the arm to make some space for where he assumes one of Seb's legs is going to end up. ))

Better?

Better.

[Seb's smile is downright diabolical as he slings a leg over Siwan's lap and settles right down onto it. He didn't give himself nearly enough opportunities to touch Siwan the first time they collided like this and he's about to make up for that - starting low on his abdomen, Seb slides his splayed hands up, up over Siwan's stomach and ribcage and chest, feeling out everything he can through the fine fabric of his shirt.

There's definitely a treat waiting for him under Siwan's suits. No question now.]

You're fuckin' gorgeous, [Seb murmurs, voice low and husky, before finally shifting forward in Siwan's lap and sealing their mouths back together. He can't wait to see how and where Siwan will touch him this time - over his shirt or under? Back or chest? Or will he maybe wrap his pretty hands around Seb's thighs?

The thought alone is enough to make Seb shiver and moan into Siwan's mouth.]

(( In his mind, he anticipated this. He imagined this is how Seb would end up. Imagination pales to the reality of it. The weight and heat of him astride Siwan's lap, the feel of Seb's hands, so warm through that thin layer of fabric. Please forgive him if he ends up holding his breath again for a few seconds while Seb's hands explore. If his mind's already filling with static, how will it possible be when Seb's hands are on his bare skin?

There's hardly even time to consider it before Seb's shifting closer. Siwan sucks in a breath because... Well, there's no way Seb can't feel how hard he is already when he's that close. Again, no time to worry because as soon as the thought crosses his mind, Seb's mouth is on his. Siwan melts into with a low moan. Leaning to meet it, he finally moves his hands. The first tentative touch is against the outside of Seb's thighs. Don't think, Siwan reminds himself. Thinking will make him spiral and freeze. So don't think.

Don't think and let his hands move along Seb's thighs (god they feel strong), up, up, up to his hips. Not just to rest there idly, but to actually grip his hips and... pull him even a fraction of inch closer. ))

[Seb certainly does feel how hard Siwan is, and he's in the exact same state by the time Siwan's hands make it up to his hips and force their bodies flush against each other in that very spot. It shouldn't be enough to get Seb so excited, it shouldn't, he's got literal millennia of experience under his belt, but Siwan's shy caution supercharges every little moment between them - that's the only explanation for the way Seb's hips buck forward to meet the hot, hard pressure of Siwan's erection with his own.]

F-fuck - [He gasps against Siwan's lips between kisses, shuddering all the way up his spine. This should just be foreplay! It shouldn't feel this dangerously white-hot already! How's Seb supposed to guide them through anything more intense if he's falling apart at the most basic form of sexual contact?

He really can't stop, either. One roll of his hips demands another and another, and the mounting friction soon has Seb groaning so steadily into Siwan's mouth that he can barely keep up with kisses anymore. Like a kid, like some stupid human teenager who's never had a hand on his dick other than his own. It's as embarrassing as it is thrilling.]

(( Siwan should be embarrassed of... all of this. The effect it's having on him. He should be embarrassed how little it took to get him wound up. In his defense, he doesn't have anywhere near the experience Seb does. Siwan's only really had... his wife, someone he's not remotely attracted to. So maybe he can be forgiven for have the reactions of a horny teenager when given the opportunity to fool around with someone he is attracted to.

So very attracted to.

And that Seb seems to mirror that desperate want, well, it becomes a bit of a feedback loop. Even with Hyejin, Siwan's never felt desired. He's never felt hungered for. But he feels it in every one of Seb's touches, in every kiss, in every sound that bubbles up from his throat. The heat of it all threatens to burn him to ash.

Siwan blatantly chokes when Seb rolls his hips again. And again. And again. His head falls back, fingers kneading hard at Seb's hips as if in a silent plea for him to keep doing exactly that. If that wasn't enough encouragement, Siwan's hips move in kind, perhaps a bit less fluidly than Seb's, but he's just going on instinct. Instinct that leaves him chasing more of that muted friction. More, more, more. ))

[He's going to come like this, Seb realizes all at once. They're both locked into the frantic race to climax already and eventually Seb is going to come right in his pants.

The knowledge doesn't stop Seb from grabbing onto Siwan's hands one by one and planting them firmly on his ass, just as he guided them to his waist the first time they touched, and all without even breaking the rhythm they've built with their hips. It doesn't stop him from licking and sucking on Siwan's earlobe when his mouth can no longer do anything but gasp for air.]

You feel so good... [It doesn't even stop him from muttering deliriously into said ear afterwards, as if he were actually getting railed out of his mind instead of just rubbing dicks through their clothes. Siwan does feel good, though, thick and long enough to send Seb's imagination absolutely soaring.]

(( Can something, anything about Seb be something other than overwhelming? Siwan can't think, he can barely breathe. Yet, somehow, he manages to register that Seb guided his hands elsewhere and takes a split second to appreciate the way Seb's ass feels under them. Only a split second because grinding his cock against Seb's — even if they're still completely clothed — feels infinitely better. His fingers squeeze firm muscle, using his grip to guide the frantic pace they've fallen into.

Seb's breath against his skin sends a full-bodied shiver running through him. OR maybe it was something else? Who can say with the veritable onslaught of very pleasant sensations. It's absolutely overwhelming how every inch of him feels like it's burning. It's really all he can do to hold on to Seb and ride this out, panting and moaning the whole time.

Of course, it makes sense with his inexperience with this level of desire... Well, it isn't very long at all before the rhythm of his hips stutters. All that heat churning low in his belly coils tight and snaps. His eyes go wide and roll back, some sound that might've been an incoherent word tearing from his throat as every muscle pulls taut. With as close as they are, there's no way Seb doesn't feel that telltale spasm as Siwan comes (embarrassingly!) in his pants. ))

[It's his reactions, it's always Siwan's reactions that do it. Choked, desperate noises, violent shivers, silent pleas reflected in his eyes - Siwan's so honest about his desire, so consumed by it. Being with him is like walking right into a raging fire with the assumption that you've been burned often enough to keep it from turning you to ash.

All of which is to say that Seb comes right along with Siwan, a shudder tearing through his body and a low groan leaving his lips. His brain takes what feels like years to catch up with his body, leaving him stunned and sex-drunk as he comes down from the high with his face hidden in Siwan's neck.

... until eventually, he manages to let out a breathless little laugh.]

I - I can't believe that just happened.

(( Surely it's forgivable for Siwan to behave like a fourteen-year old boy making out with his crush for the first time. Being a cheap date should be more expected from someone who hasn't been exposed to real desire before (or if he has, it's never been anything he could act on). Does that change the utter embarrassment that creeps in when the world rights itself around him after bottoming out? Does that stop him from gingerly letting go of Seb's ass (his fingers are sore from holding on!)? Does that stop a new wave of warmth rising in his cheeks that's not from lust?

Of course it doesn't! ))

Oh, god! I'm so sorry!

[Seb can't help but burst out laughing this time, his shoulders shaking with astonished mirth, but the shame laced through Siwan's voice does make him sit up and press their foreheads together so that the other man can see how genuinely - and adoringly - he's smiling.]

Siwan, hey... [He combs his fingers through Siwan's hair, gentle and reassuring.] ... I came too. It's alright. You - what are you doing to me, man?

[Asked with affection, not alarm.]

(( The way Seb says his name, the way he threads his fingers through Siwan's hair go a long way toward making him feel less self-conscious. They're anchoring, a focus to help him pull himself from the all the little aftershocks of orgasm. Siwan's eyes fall closed and he leans his head against Seb's, sighing quietly. ))

I don't know how to answer that.

(( If Seb thinks he hears the slightest bit of mirth in that statement, it's because he does. Siwan isn't even sure what's going on with him, so he can't even hazard a guess about what's going through Seb's mind. ))

You must be doing something! I don't get like this about people!

[Like what, Seb? Why so non-specific, Seb?

Even with the mess beginning to cool in his underwear, being so close to Siwan while he drifts through the sweet haze of afterglow has Seb feeling more at ease than he has in actual eons. He sighs as well, blissfully content, and nuzzles their noses together gently.]

Anyway, I'm the one who should apologize. Don't you have to catch a train tonight?

(( Siwan's still a little dizzy and his thoughts are hazy around the edges, so he's not about to press for what exactly Seb means. Given where they met, maybe it's obvious? Maybe Seb's a player. Honestly, Siwan doesn't care right now. Why should he unless Seb's past somehow creeps out of the shadows to affect them here and now. ))

Later, yes.

(( There's a small pause as he returns that little nuzzle. Why does that little affection feel almost as good as what they just did? ))

I've got a suitcase in the car. I'll change before I go.

[Well, if Siwan's not upset about his soiled clothes, then Seb won't pay it any more mind. They should probably clean up soon, but...

Oh, he just doesn't want to move. He doesn't want this moment to end. Part of him fears that the moment he climbs off Siwan's lap, everything will go back to "I can't do this, we can't do this, I need to leave" and they'll have to start from scratch again - or worse, Siwan really will disappear this time. The thought makes him feel cold all over.

Before he can think better of it, Seb blurts out:]

Please say we can keep doing this. Please.

[There's a very real tremor of vulnerability in his voice.]

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