ascendant

“No bow wow now?”, Louis said, naturally clever, but maybe that was thanks to years of imported tutors and front roll seats at operas and Broadway shows. Louis had main veined culture and fashion since he had been in high designer onesies. Thirty seemed way too young for the twenty-one year old, usually he liked them even older than that, but as long as Raymond could handle being called Daddy in the heat of the moment, their post-dinner dessert would be interesting.

Apparently, Louis had finally met someone as image concerned as himself. “I just… prefer my indecency to be… in private,” Louis confessed. He wasn’t even out to his parents yet, but that was probably due to the fact that he couldn’t remember the last time – if ever – he had actually had an honest conversation with them. His father, the Regan Republican, and his mother, the faux progressive belle of every charity ball probably assumed their often drunken son had taken it up the ass, but it was one of those things that they didn’t talk about.

“I came here for school,” Louis admitted. “I’m actually studying fashion at USF,” he explained, knowing he’d probably earn a side eye, because who comes across the country to study fashion in California and doesn’t go to FIDM? Obviously, him. But San Francisco had been calling his name for so long. It seemed like a place where he could be as loudly queer as he wanted, so he had settled here.

Raymond definitely trended more conservative than not in terms of the way he expressed his sexuality. Clean-cut, gentlemanly, discreet. Exactly what the son of immigrants and a political wannabe should be. But that didn’t mean he was totally squeaky clean and innocent. Just mostly.

“Trust me, I get it... I only really came out a few years ago. Still learning so much about the scene and where I fit into it. I feel like everybody would know how much of a square I am compared to them at Folsom. But you still seem like you fit in better with them than I would. You seem, I dunno, more uninhibited than me. Unless I’m totally off base and making assumptions...”

Louis took the man’s phone, quickly typing in his information. Tapping the picture option, he posed in the front facing camera, sticking his tongue out and winking, looking more like Belle Delphine than an emoji, that is to say, totally shameless. Louis knew how short that life was, how fleeting it could be. The au pair that had raised him died suddenly one night when he was sixteen years old. She had swallowed her tongue in her sleep. Crazy shit like that happened all the time. That was why Louis always slept on his side.

This man had aspirations. Maybe he could tell by his Lululemon sportswear and five hundred dollar haircut that Louis came from money, and Raymond was just looking for a protentional donor, because his table wasn’t the only one with an empty chair. Maybe Louis just didn’t trust politicians as a staunch silver spooner.

Louis followed after, tossing his mostly empty drink out so he could hold his phone with his hand. “Oh, I’ve only heard stories, mostly horror stories,” the blonde said with a low chuckle and a shake of his head. “We could always put you in one of those puppy play masks, and no one would know it was you… although that body seems… hard to mistake,” he flirted shamelessly. “I prefer my sex to be… behind closed doors, and not… in the middle of the street for creeps to gawk at,” he admitted, gym bag hanging off his shoulder as they padded down the sunny San Francisco street.

Raymond was good enough at reading people that he could tell Louis wasn’t —how to put it politely— someone who worked with their hands. Probably a rich kid of some sort. Possibly one who had no reason to seek employment because of their family’s wealth. Usually that turned him off in a person, but Louis interested him, so to speak. Maybe Raymond wasn’t actually so above it all...

“That whole puppy play thing isn’t my scene. At least I don’t think it is,” says Raymond, suddenly imagine how true the claim was. (TBD.) “Thank you, but I just turned thirty and I don’t know much longer I’ll be able to keep this physique... I doubt you struggle much with yours,” he continues, trying his best (and failing) to not objectify this perfect stranger within moments of meeting them. Which Louis was making increasingly difficult.

He nods in agreement. “I think that’s why I’ve never gone before. Don’t know what kinds of public indecency you’re gonna run into there. Good to know we have that in common—“ says Raymond, abruptly cutting himself off as he realizes the implication he just made.

Xander smiled at the other and chuckled. “I’ve lived here my whole life. Just got my own place though.” He paused and tilted his head. “Well not my own. I mean I don’t own it or pay rent or anything. I just live there.” He shrugged, not worried about sharing all kinds of information about himself. He had always been careless when it came to privacy and it showed. 

“Oh. I’m a sugar baby. I mean it’s kinda fun because a guy pays for all my shit. But I wouldn’t really call it a job because I get paid to look good and get fucked.” He grinned at the other and smirked. “How do you like your job though?” He tilted his head and looked over at the other, wondering what the other’s reaction might be to such an admission.

Raymond was, admittedly, not expecting the answer he received. The way Xander self-identified as a “sugar baby” so matter-of-factly took him off guard; it almost sounded like a joke until he realized it wasn’t. He’d heard of the “job” (if one could call it that) before, but never actually encountered it in the wild. The idea certainly inspired some intrigue in him...

“I come in the middle and during the afternoon and I still haven’t seen it as busy as it is right now. Maybe it’s because I don’t normally sit around here. Maybe it’s because I grab my coffee and just go from there.” He shrugged softly as he looked at him. “I don’t know. I don’t think I have been here long enough to truly know if there is something going on in the city right now but I can only assume.” He informed the other. “What brings you in here this time of day though?” He asked curiously. 

Raymond figured the man wasn’t a regular around here, or else he definitely would have recognized him... even in a town full of hotties like San Francisco, this guy stood out.

Sometimes it seemed like the mayor’s office was completely empty. Nothing to do whatsoever. The fact that this could be seen as an indictment of local government —and the concept of government in general— was not lost on Raymond. At some point, he decided to play music at his desk on the speakers, which he wouldn’t normally do, which led to him singing aloud to the music playing.

🎵 “In your eyes... I see there's something burning inside you—” 🎵

Raymond must have gotten so lost in the music that he didn’t even notice someone had appeared at his desk in the middle of his singing until he turned in his chair and saw them there.

Grayson had a completely booked morning. From the moment he got to work he either had interviews, files to work on, or even complaints from the workers in the hotel. He had drank one of his energy drinks to get him through the morning but he knew that the only way he was going to make it through the rest of his day, he was going to need to grab his coffee for the afternoon. And instead of taking it back to his office to work on some work during his lunch, he grabbed a seat and had a nice delectable pastry for his lunch. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Grayson had noticed another figure approaching the table he was sitting at and he nodded a bit as the other was sitting down across from him. He gazed up from the magazine that he was looking at and he nodded. “I know, there must be something going on around town because it usually isn’t this packed in the middle of the day.” He agreed. 

Raymond takes a seat opposite the other man and offers an appreciative glance. This guy looked important, but he couldn’t quite place why. Something about his general vibe signaled as much. Raymond couldn’t help but find himself drawn to it; wanting to emulate it, even.

💦 At what age did my muse lose their virginity? | sex+romance headcanons (accepting)

🎥 Who is my muse’s celebrity crush? | sex+romance headcanons (accepting)

💕 Would my muse ever be in a polyamorous relationship? | sex+romance headcanons (accepting)

😉 What are my muse’s fetishes/kinks? | sex+romance headcanons (accepting)

Truthfully, Raymond doesn’t know what his fetishes and kinks are yet because of his lack of experience with them. He wouldn’t be able to tell you if you asked. That being said...

Being dominated by younger, smaller guys

Dominating older, bigger guys

Very specific roleplay scenarios involving Raymond as POTUS, because duh

🍬 Is my muse a sub, dom, or switch? | sex+romance headcanons (accepting)

Xander snorted as the other asked if he worked at city hall. “No. I don’t work anywhere.” He said it with a confidence that made it sound so obvious. “But my parents donate to a lot of shit. Wouldn’t be surprised if I saw you when my dad dragged me there or something. He always said I should be more involved in politics.” He sat bad and shrugged. “Or maybe I just saw you in one of my dreams. I mean you are ridiculously hot.”

He winked at the other, a cocky smirk on his lips as he flirted with the other bluntly. He rested his head on his hand, and chuckled. “Was that too cheesy? I’ve never been one to use pick up lines, but it seemed like fun.

“Maybe. I do get that a lot though, people thinking they know me. Guess I just have one of those faces. I’ve only lived here for two years, though,” he explains. Yet in such short time, it feels like it’s been much, much longer for him...