Dean bites in at his bottom lip then, the pink line disappearing before he snorts, focusing back in on his drink. "Like a stud like you wants a beat of my damn near homeless ass." Roman can tell the conversation is turning in a certain direction and that they have an audience and he quickly takes Dean's hand, pulling him off the bar stool.
"We don't have to do anything but talk, baby boy, but I think you'd be a lot more comfortable without them watching." Roman motions to the hall behind them and Dean nods hesitantly, allowing himself to be dragged up another staircase, down a couple halls, and to a room that needs Roman's thumb print to get in.
It's gorgeous, a massive bedroom draped in red crushed velvet, marble floors, silk sheets, and gorgeous leather furniture. Dean slides into a leather couch, draping his leg of a side and whistling idly as Roman sits opposite in what can only be described as a throne.
The younger male is thumbing at his collar and it causes something to stir within the Samoan. Because that collar fits this sweet boy so well, those beautiful baby blue eyes pleading for someone to treat him right. "So, you ever done anything like this before?"
"Uh…n-no…" Dean starts, the confident whistling and sprawled out posture both receding to Roman's displeasure. He wanted this man as comfortable and hopefully eventually as turned on as possible.
"That's alright…" He voice smooth as honey as he leans forward in his thrown, catching Dean's eye with his piercing silver graze. "…everyone's gotta start somewhere, babe." That sandy mop shakes as the mechanic snorts in disbelief.
"I'm 30 fuckin' years old, dude, and the kinkiest thing I've done is shove a finger up my ass…" Dean rolls his eyes, nipping at his thumb before tugging on the loose strands of his hoodie's thumbholes.
Something primal boils within the club's owner, because god…he's had some newbie or unbroken subs before. But this is something special. Because he's drawn to this man, this man who seems all cocky confidence and swagger, knowing what he wants but so afraid to ask for it. "You give me safeword and some ideas, babe…and I can make this the kinkiest night of your life."
Dean's head snaps up then and his eyes widen slightly. "You're jokin', right?"
"I already said you were beggin' to be played with." Roman stands up then, shrugging his blazer offer and pulling the button down's sleeves to his elbows. "And I meant that…" Dean stares at the muscles being revealed to him, licking at his bottom lip.
"I-I…" Dean hates stammering, hates sounding weak, but can anyone blame him when Roman begins petting through his hair, pushing it back and revealing to Dean just how sensitive his scalp is. "…I don't know what I like. What's good, y'know? I…I wanna try…looked into some stuff, but…"
"Did you find some things you like?" What a sinful tone it's said in, Roman's voice dipping impossibly low as he strides behind Dean, fingers traveling from his scalp to his shoulders, rubbing the tender flesh, well worked from Dean's forms of employment.
"Yeah…" Dean tenses at first, before Roman's fingers dip inside his hoodie, caressing the outline of his collarbone. God…he wants so bad. "…yeah, I found a few things."