Daniel is dressed for work when he shows up at Staxx - elegant black blouse, tight black pencil skirt, stockings, heels, the works. He looks around and if he doesn't see Quentin he'll claim a booth that's relatively secluded and let the waiter know to send him over when he gets there.
As if Quentin needed to be any more ridiculous, he stumbled into the diner, tripping over the threshold. He rubbed the heel of one hand into his eye, wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt whose sleeves were a little too long for him. He was directed to the booth and gave Daniel a slightly awkward nod as he slid in.
Daniel smiled and pushed a menu over. "I ordered you some coffee already. Figured you'd need it." Everything else is up to Quentin. He doesn't like doing the 'I'll order your food for you without asking what you want' until he actually knows what his partner wants.
Quentin nodded, looking at the menu and trying not to think of the last time he'd sat in Staxx in need of disgusting diner food. The hangover hadn't been from alcohol, but from the fuck tent and getting overwhelmed and sleeping for thirteen hours, and the man on the other side of the table had been Eliot, laying his heart bare and asking if Quentin would take it.
He swallowed a lump and tried to focus. "Yes, thanks, sorry. I'm still..." He made a gesture that didn't mean anything.
"No need to apologize. I'm surprised you're even slightly functional by now. The advantage of youth, I guess." The waiter came by with the coffee and Daniel doctored his, adding sugar and cream and giving Q space.
"We did." Daniel took a sip and wrapped his hands around his mug. His polish today was a dull pewter, glinting in the light from the overhead lamps. "Well, to be up-front about it... I don't usually do vanilla sex, and I'm dominant. If either of those things don't work for you..." But he had a feeling they did.
So the thing about Quentin was that he was too olive to really blush in a remotely attractive way. There was no fetching dusting of pink or gentle flushing here -- his cheeks just went super red, in the blotchiest, ugliest way possible.
"Um, that. Is." Quentin just nodded. "Um, I'm not, um, super experienced? With the non-vanilla stuff? I mean, most of what I know at this point I learned from..." He trailed off and looked down at his coffee.
His blushes are cute anyway. He's a puppy, he can't help it.
"Everyone starts somewhere. I'm not expecting a vast wealth of experience, don't worry." A lot of his sex here has been educational in some capacity - but it's fine, he likes it. "What do you like so far?"
I like Eliot came unbidden to his mind and Quentin tried to ignore it. It was ridiculous, Eliot would be back, right, and it was pretty fucking rude to keep pining when another man was sitting in front of him wanting to fuck him. He did his best to focus up.
"I like...um, impact play? I like...things...in my mouth," he said, blush deepening. "Being tied up is nice, but not, like, crazy good on its own. I guess that's true of impact play too, actually. It's nice as an add-on. Um, being held down, just like, with your hands is way better than tying."
Quentin, predictably, turned deep red again at the compliment.
"Um, yeah, that's good," he said, nodding. "I like...waiting? But not, like, giving it up entirely, there has to be an end point. And I think I'm into, like...doing things that feel good but won't be enough? Like, teasing? That's good.
"Oh! Um, important. If I get really, like, um...well, I don't really know the words I'm looking for here, but, if it's really intense I can't talk anymore? English just..." He made a motion like something flittering away from his head, whistling as it went.
Daniel nods thoughtfully, sipping his coffee. He's starting to formulate a couple of ideas for what they could do. "When you say waiting - do you mean you want to be actively teased and pushed while your partner drags things out or would you like to, say, sit and wait while your partner does something else before they get back to you? Maybe with something to tease you while you do? Or something like serving them by holding a glass or letting them rest their feet on you while you wait?"
Yes, these questions are very specific, but he's very curious.
"Um..." Quentin scratched his chin, looking intensely thoughtful. "I think...it's better if attention is on me? I haven't really tried being totally or mostly ignored for anything, it's always been like...like, playing with me, or...you know, with my dick or whatever, just not enough to get me off. That's what I've been into."
He paused as the orc came with his juice, giving them a brief smile and unwrapping the straw. "I guess ultimately like, I want to turn my brain off?" he said, dropping the straw into the glass. "If I'm quiet and/or alone that's...me being left alone with my thoughts, which is the opposite of that."
"That makes sense." Daniel could certainly arrange something - cocksucking, some miscellaneous cuddling, teasing, and dick touching, culminating in a round of fucking and getting Quentin off. It sounded fun, and fairly relaxed. Nothing elaborate necessary. He smiled. "I think we can make that work. No thinking on your part required."
Quentin started drinking his juice with the straw as Daniel spoke, eyes on him and listening attentively, completely oblivious to what he was doing. He nodded and finally let it go at the last part.
"That...sounds really nice," he admitted, unaccountably embarrassed about it, looking down at his juice (which he'd chugged a good portion of). "I think that's, um...well, I swear I'm not really dwelling on him but I think part of why I'm...freaking out so much at Eliot not being here is that, um, he's good at...getting me to that space and the prospect of living without a...a break like that is..." He trailed off and shook his head, looking down.
"Well, I can't promise to be quite as good as Eliot - at least not for the first go-round - but I'll do my best. Is there anything I should know about how to get you there? Or what not to do?" He'd never been in the habit of assuming he was the god of all BDSM - it was so personal, so individual, that everyone had different reactions to different things. And an emotional bond, like Eliot and Q, could be on an entirely different level.
Quentin thought about it again, about what Eliot did other than just be himself. "Um, this is weird but call me Q instead of Quentin? I don't know, the nickname just..." He shrugged. "Or other things that aren't my name. Sweetheart or whatever, maybe."
A dark thought flitted through that Eliot had probably developed that "baby boy" habit so he didn't say wrong names in bed, but he pushed it away, annoyed. "Generally be, like, nice? Instead of mean? Don't make fun of me, give me time if I'm struggling with something. Ummm...helping me stay relaxed is good. Telling me what to expect next helps with that, so I can't, like, freak out wondering if I'm missing a cue or doing the right thing."
Daniel nodded, making mental notes. "That's very good. I like being nice, anyway." He could do strict and intimidating with great gusto, but his natural inclination most of the time was to be softer. He'd be happy to treat Quentin with care and return him to Eliot in good condition when he came back.
Quentin nodded. "I guess this is, uh, probably true for anyone but a lot of it just comes with time. I'll...you know, try my best, but um, I won't be that surprised if I just...can't, at first." Bitterly fucking disappointed? Yes. Surprised? Not especially. "It may take a couple tries for me to, you know, trust that nothing bad is gonna happen, you know?"
"Of course. That's perfectly normal, darling. This isn't a situation where you have to go into subspace at the snap of my fingers or my ego will be irreparably bruised. If it takes time, it takes time. That's all right." Another thing that Daniel had learned over his life that no matter how trustworthy you really were, it took some people time to trust you - especially in such a vulnerable situation. "We'll take it as it comes. Which wasn't a pun on purpose."
Quentin felt his shoulders relax a little, when he hadn't even realized he was holding them up, and he nodded. It helped to hear that Daniel wouldn't be mad at him if he couldn't.
The last part startled a laugh out of him. "I mean, it can be," he said, corners of his mouth turned up in this little smile. "I'm sure there'll be plenty of both. Taking things and coming." He didn't make it through without a bit of a blush, but he was still smiling.
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Anywhere butStaxx? I could use hangover food.text
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He swallowed a lump and tried to focus. "Yes, thanks, sorry. I'm still..." He made a gesture that didn't mean anything.
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"Um, so, we came here to...talk," Quentin said, dumping sugar in his own coffee.
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So the thing about Quentin was that he was too olive to really blush in a remotely attractive way. There was no fetching dusting of pink or gentle flushing here -- his cheeks just went super red, in the blotchiest, ugliest way possible.
"Um, that. Is." Quentin just nodded. "Um, I'm not, um, super experienced? With the non-vanilla stuff? I mean, most of what I know at this point I learned from..." He trailed off and looked down at his coffee.
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"Everyone starts somewhere. I'm not expecting a vast wealth of experience, don't worry." A lot of his sex here has been educational in some capacity - but it's fine, he likes it. "What do you like so far?"
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"I like...um, impact play? I like...things...in my mouth," he said, blush deepening. "Being tied up is nice, but not, like, crazy good on its own. I guess that's true of impact play too, actually. It's nice as an add-on. Um, being held down, just like, with your hands is way better than tying."
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Anal might seem like an obvious answer but it was best to check these things. Some guys didn't care for it, even if they did fuck other men.
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"Um, yeah, that's good," he said, nodding. "I like...waiting? But not, like, giving it up entirely, there has to be an end point. And I think I'm into, like...doing things that feel good but won't be enough? Like, teasing? That's good.
"Oh! Um, important. If I get really, like, um...well, I don't really know the words I'm looking for here, but, if it's really intense I can't talk anymore? English just..." He made a motion like something flittering away from his head, whistling as it went.
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Yes, these questions are very specific, but he's very curious.
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He paused as the orc came with his juice, giving them a brief smile and unwrapping the straw. "I guess ultimately like, I want to turn my brain off?" he said, dropping the straw into the glass. "If I'm quiet and/or alone that's...me being left alone with my thoughts, which is the opposite of that."
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"That...sounds really nice," he admitted, unaccountably embarrassed about it, looking down at his juice (which he'd chugged a good portion of). "I think that's, um...well, I swear I'm not really dwelling on him but I think part of why I'm...freaking out so much at Eliot not being here is that, um, he's good at...getting me to that space and the prospect of living without a...a break like that is..." He trailed off and shook his head, looking down.
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A dark thought flitted through that Eliot had probably developed that "baby boy" habit so he didn't say wrong names in bed, but he pushed it away, annoyed. "Generally be, like, nice? Instead of mean? Don't make fun of me, give me time if I'm struggling with something. Ummm...helping me stay relaxed is good. Telling me what to expect next helps with that, so I can't, like, freak out wondering if I'm missing a cue or doing the right thing."
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The last part startled a laugh out of him. "I mean, it can be," he said, corners of his mouth turned up in this little smile. "I'm sure there'll be plenty of both. Taking things and coming." He didn't make it through without a bit of a blush, but he was still smiling.