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Sapnap is a very attractive man, and oh, he knows it.
He has a great body, a little shorter than average but he makes up for it with his toned figure, strong biceps and his core that has almost achieved a pack of abs if not stopped by the slight chub lining his stomach. Slightly overgrown raven hair cascades over his forehead, occasionally tied up into a messy knot atop his head.
The raven has always taken pride upon his looks, revelling in the way women passing him on the corners of the street swoon at the raven, a bright, sassy persona travelling alongside a figure he was fairly proud of. He loved the attention he got, always pleased when somebody he barely knew - nor cared about - made comments about his knee-weakening attractiveness.
Despite how pleased he was with his current life, everyone has fantasies, right?
Everyone wants to try new things out sometimes, step outside of their small box of styled familiarity and into a new, different style. Everyone has the yearning, so who would Sapnap be to not indulge in the occasional fantasy?
This yearning is exactly how the raven boy finds himself on the pedestal of a dressing room, in a shop not many know about and none at all would imagine to find Sapnap , the buff, masculine stud, of all people, in this particular location.
The destination is nothing short of beautiful, elegant white lace decorations serenading honeycomb walls and corresponding to the wedding dresses displayed for sale, making this the perfect place for a young fiancé to look for their wedding apparel.
However, Sapnap isn’t here for that.
The cool breeze of the shop along with a beautiful melody flowing from a record player hidden away somewhere simultaneously send shivers down Sapnap’s bare arms, letting broad hands trail down the pale skin in an attempt to friction any sort of heat.
He’s uncomfortable, standing only half-clothed in just a pair of tan trousers without a shirt upon a short pedestal, whilst he waits for the new, unknown seamstress to step out of the curtain shielding him (and his indulging of a silent fantasy,) from the rest of the shop and world.
The burgundy fabric separating him from the world slides open slowly as the seamstress steps into the small space, and the raven is nothing less than enamored by the sight.
Despite his assumption, the seamstress is not a woman, but a brunette boy, probably around half an inch or so taller than the raven himself when not on his pedestal. He feels a heated pink dust settle on the tips of his cheekbones as he takes in the attractive man standing afront him.
A nice - No, perfect, the raven backtracks - jawline, smooth pale skin of his neck curving up into the jawbone before melting into a lightly stubbled cheek in an enamoring fashion. His nose sits perfectly centered in his features - a perfect organization for the sweet strawberry lips just below, holding a polite smile that is most likely a disingenuous one reserved for customer service, but nonetheless begins to elicits wonders in the raven's mind of what the beautiful man’s features looked like spread in a genuine grin.
He’s terribly handsome, and Sapnap is suddenly, for possibly the first time in his lifetime, insecure of his own looks, worried about comparing to the terribly good-looking figure standing in the compact dressing room alongside him.
Sapnap is nothing less than drooling over the brunette when time seems to unfortunately catch back up with the raven’s thoughts as the boy speaks. “I’ve brought the attire you requested.” His pink lips move in an almost entrancing way as he talks, words slipping past the smooth strawberry in a way that makes it difficult for Sapnap to swallow the lump in his throat and peel his eyes away from lips to focus on his eyes instead.
Damn, his eyes.
Crisp honey coffee irises gaze into Sapnap’s own mesmerizingly, stopping time for just a short moment to allow the raven to fully appreciate their beauty.
“You gave a sort of broad request to the accountant, but I found one that I think suits your build and person quite well.”
“White - er, cream.” Sapnap had stated, nervously picking at the skin around his nails as he faced the desk. “And lacey. A nice white lacey corset.”
Sapnap nods, tongue chasing away lost words that fail to pass his lips. The flush still situated on his cheek doesn’t fade, and only gets worse when he finally notices the item that the brunette holds in his slender, pale grasp.
The fantasy that Sapnap had been dreaming of, never being capable of bringing himself to indulge until now, waits for him in the form of an enchanting cream corset. Floral patterned alabaster lace wraps around the base, ribbons laced through at the center to perfectly cinch the waist of its beholder. It’s feminine, but that doesn’t stop the stud’s taste for cream lace cinch.
It’s exactly the thing the raven has been wanting - perhaps needing - to get himself in for months, and now that it's finally in his gaze, the yearn to put it on is stronger than ever.
“So, do you like it?” The sweet accent breaks through thoughts in the raven's mind, a sun’s light promisefully peaking through clouds and illuminating a flower painted valley below. “Or would you rather me find you a different one?”
Sapnap swallows back the excited lump situated in his throat and smiles. “No, it’s, uh - it’s perfect.”
“Fantastic.” A pleased smile settles his features. “Shall we try it on?”
Raven hair bobs eagerly, words still difficult when presented to such a pretty boy to help fit such a pretty corset.
The seamstress steps forward as Sapnap’s heart rate picks up wildly, blushing immeasurably at the newly shared compact vicinity. Pale fingertips wrap around the edge of the lacey fabric, holding it up to milky skin and pressing in closely. The white contrasts honeycomb skin in a beautiful symphony of color.
The fabric wraps around his back, cool metal clasps settling along his stomach to elicit delicious shivers that dance up Sapnap’s spine. It’s as if his anticipation has heightened each and every nerve in his body, sending electric joy dancing over his skin when the corset adjusts or soft fingertips brush his skin for a mere second.
George’s eyes stay trained to the attire he is handling around the ravens waist while Sapnap’s neck heats impossibly more at the closeness, the way the seamstress's irises stay glued to his stomach, such an intimate and rarely seen part of his body.
Slender hands wrap the cool fabric around his waist, pulling it in slightly, not quite enough to cinch the skin into an hourglass shape. The raven frowns slightly in impatience while the brunette continues to work with the ribbons and clasps around to fit it in the perfect spot.
“Okay,” he states finally. “Is it comfortable?”
“No, but it’s not bad.”
The brunette smiles. “Perfect. I’m going to cinch the waist now using these ribbons here, alright?” When given a small nod from Sapnap he continues, “Breathe when I tell you to, and let me know when you’re ready.” Another nod.
The sweet gentleness of the seamstress’s tone calms any negative anticipation flowing through Sapnap's veins, warming his chest with thoughtful care. He knows there’s no need to be so gentle with him, Sapnap is a grown man and can handle much worse than a simple corset, but the delicate tone comforts the raven.
“‘M ready.”
Pale digits grasp cream ribbon and Sapnap prepares himself. Cheeks and neck burning, flushed in embarrassment and enamoring at the attractive seamstress handling the attire so close to bare skin. The raven struggles to hold back thoughts of the pale hands wandering the milky skin freely.
“Breathe out.”
Out.
“Now in.”
Before the raven is able to register the command and act upon it willingly, the strings around his back tighten with the force of a (surprisingly strong) brunette seamstress.
Sapnap smiles gratefully, pulling coffee irises in to meet his sage gaze. The man seems to be closer than before, now letting his eyes settle upon Sapnap’s instead of scanning the attire around his waist.
A low breath escapes strawberry lips. “Does it fit well?” Sapnap shrugs lightly, eliciting a breathy giggle from the brunette. “Here, I’ll just check myself.”
The familiar feeling of smooth pale fingertips trails up the bottoms of his hips, over the slight chub spilling out the bottom of the lace cinch.
The wandering hands soon find themselves resting on hips clad of floral alabaster lace, rubbing circles slowly into the material as coffee eyes scan the attire and milky skin around it.
“I think it fits.” He breathes out lightly, words almost lost to the exhale. Coffee and sage meet together until the umber darts away to take in strawberry lips.
“Yeah.” Hot breath trails his neck from the man still about 4 inches below him. “I think so too.”
Suddenly lips are being crashed together with a pulling force stronger than any man can comprehend, a physical and emotional attraction bringing the two together. A sea of lips, of hot breaths and bitten lips, of shared saliva and welcoming gasps, washes over the two of them in a tantalizing, near-intoxicating way as the two are entranced in one another.
Sapnap’s broad hands rest on the lower’s jaw, giving a way of stability as the passionate kisses form. The other’s hands stay planted on prominent hips, rubbing patterns into his sides and occasionally fidgeting with the laces trailing up his back.
The raven pulls away for a much needed breath, chest heaving lightly as foreheads press, noses tipping each other.
“What is-” Sapnap breathes out, “What’s your-”
Another short clash of lips together before being abruptly pulled away.
“George. I’m George.”