“O-oh wow...” SeungHyun couldn't contain the light gasp of awe as he felt the sportsman's bulging muscles, his body was beautiful, “...I-I think I've had too much to drink.” The ailing actor knew his limits, and they weren't as strong as they once had been when his star meter was on the rise. He was older, washed up, and though it pained him to acknowledge, low in tolerance for alcohol and they'd already shared two bottles, “I should get to bed...” He was erring, large ears beginning to burn at the tips as he wished for the waved locks of his heyday to cover it instead of the near crew-cut he eccentrically kept as of late. He shouldn't be being so stupid, there was recording equipment, national broadcasting, a potential comeback on the line...but...Kang DaeSung, “...take me there.” As he stood, large eyes locked on the prize he'd assumed he'd won over, long legs teetering slightly under the creak of age and liquor, he had the rundown baseball star on his feet to aide his stance, looking to his face, appraising him, “...i-it's been so long for me...” He felt shy to admit it, fingers pawing at the barely cuffed polo top, heart beating fast in his chest, breath bated until he got an answer to the greatest performance of his life. The most honest.

“...You can cry if I'm too much for you.”

“Oh...”