CONTENT WARNINGS: face-fucking, anal play-ish, Sir kink, degradation, praise kink, general manhandling, light dom-sub dynamics
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"Are you open to raw anal?" is probably not a statement Y/N had ...entirely expected to hear when she'd agreed to discourse over pastries and dirty chai lattes.
It's a pretty good one, all things considered, and asked with complete professionalism, according to their careers and the open, apathetically businesslike expression shaping the features of her counterpart. Y/N takes a sip of her latte. It is quite a good latte. He wasn't wrong there.
Harry blinks.
It's very on brand, despite the way she's sure one of the baristas has definitely twisted around from the dishpit, side eye discreet ...but there. And in the barista's defense, she couldn't even blame her for eavesdropping on the sordid contents of their public discourse. Y/N isn't going to turn around and look.
In Harry's, he didn't exactly shout.
The man across from her takes a slow sip from his latte. Good latte, very good latte.
She can't help but admire his varying assortment of rings as he cradles the cup, irises winding from the blocky, golden S to its chunky counterpart, the H. So many times she'd admired those hands, those ring-clad fingers traipsing over bare skin, just the tips meddling over abdomens and winding circles around navels. Those digits sunk into the hair of his partner, tangled into the roots as he manually bobs her head over his cock. Those fingers twisting over the pink tip of his shaft, lining it up before his hips pump. Those long fingers splaying over cunts, swiping a thumb to ogle in front of the camera.
There've been so many instances where Y/N had wondered the significance of that H and that S. And it's been really quite simple all along.
Should I call you Tiger in person, then? she'd tapped out over the LED keyboard, days prior when they'd only been discussing the prospect of a meet up. Days prior, before she'd flown out for an on-camera collaboration, to bask in the sunlight of California, to enjoy overpriced dirty chai lattes and oddly promiscuous dialogue in the corner of a cafe.
I think I'll just take Harry when the cameras aren't rolling x, RideTheTiger had messaged back.
Anyways, it'd probably be a sleazy, poorly-executed one liner (and consequently, a horrifically red flag) in possibly every other circumstance, but this isn't a first date and RideTheTiger has, thus far, been the furthest thing from sleazy. Even paid for her dirty chai latte, practically shouldering her out of the slot at the register. Pulled her chair out for her, asked about her traveling fares prior to delving into said anal topic. It's all been fairly gentlemanly. Very business-partner-coffee-meeting.
