doing it Wrong

“This isn’t what I had in mind when you said you’d be taking me to a dungeon.” Tsunagu Hakamada gives a dubious look. “So, when I said ‘dungeon,’ you thought…?” “A history exhibit or museum or something.” A furtive look around. “Not… This .” “Even when I showed up wearing this ?!” “You’ve always worn such outlandish things, regardless of the occasion at hand. My wedding photos can attest to that.” Tsunagu laughs, petting down his severe bang that covers his left eye. His right eye twinkles like an emerald with mirth. “Fair point, my friend.” A few years ago, Todoroki Enji would have protested at being called this man’s friend; the death of his marriage and reunion with his lost eldest son has humbled him. He’s missed out on a lot because of his single minded drive to be the number one marketing firm. And even after twenty years of mindless dedication, all he has to show for it is bragging rights. Never mind that he’s only become the number one marketing firm because the real number one retired earlier than everyone predicted. “You’re thinking about work again,” Tsunagu chides, placing a hand on Enji’s shoulder. “Tonight is about letting go and living in a different reality for a few hours.” Despite himself, Enji huffs his agreement. He’s tired of being Enji Todoroki. “Who knows, maybe you’ll find a twink looking to get his back blown out.” “A what ?” Enji asks incredulously, choosing to ignore the last half of the sentence. “Y’know…” Tsunagu waves his hand in the air before suddenly pointing ahead of them. “Like that, a twink.” Enji follows the direction of his fingers and stops breathing. The person Tsunagu has pointed out isn’t facing them, giving them both ample view of their exposed back. Rather than pale, unmarred skin however, there are tattooed red wings covering its expanse. They ripple with each movement of the person and Enji feels an odd desire to touch. The person wears leather pants like Tsunagu, but they’re black. Enji assumes they’re shirtless until they angle themselves mid-conversation and he spots a glimpse of white. Even from where he’s standing, Enji knows that he’s much taller than them, even with the spiky red heels they wear. “What makes them a…” Enji refuses to use the word Tsunagu used. “Twink?” Tsunagu shrugs before rattling a list of things off that make no sense to Enji. However, the words “slim” and “young” echo through his mind. The stranger is definitely slim, their back tapering to narrow hips. And based on their attire, they’re probably at least a decade and some change younger than Enji. “I remember my days as a twink,” Tsunagu says fondly, placing a manicured hand over his heart. “Now I’m just a sugar daddy.” Enji doesn’t bother asking what any of that means, at the risk of looking inexperienced. He makes a note to google all this later. For now, he shifts his weight and looks (past the twink, thank you very much) toward the front of the line. The bouncer seems to let one person in for every five they turn away. Enji’s not sure what the criteria is, but if there’s a dress code, his suit, tie, and Italian leather shoes may not make the cut. “How do you even find places like this anyway?” “You remember that rather explosive young man that was fraying at the seams?” Enji startles and looks at Tsunagu in shock. “But wasn’t he—” “The point is,” Tsunagu interrupts smoothly, “we’re here and you will be going home with someone.” A deep laugh stops Enji from replying. Somehow, they’re at the front and the bouncer is staring at them with open mirth. On impulse Enji tries to make himself seem smaller. In the past he would use his sheer size to force what he wanted, but no more. Even if it would stop a nosy bouncer from laughing at him. They flash him their IDs and are ushered in, the obnoxious red head bouncer still laughing to himself as they walk past him. Tsunagu simply shrugs in response before focusing straight ahead. They’re in a dark and narrow hallway, every few steps punctuated with a red lightbulb up on the wall. The lightbulbs grow darker in color until they reach the end of the hall. Enji can barely make out Tsunagu in front of him and he can faintly hear the sound of music. A slot opens on the door and dark, tired eyes peer out at them. Before Enji can ask questions or the stranger can speak, Tsunagu steps forward and says, “Bjork.” The slot shuts and a door to their left opens, letting the sound of sensual music filter over them. The door leads to another long hallway, and as they draw closer to its end, the music grows louder and the bass rattles Enji’s chest. This time, Tsunagu opens the door himself and steps through. Enji follows suit and then stops dead in his fucking tracks. At one of the tables, a woman lies practically naked on its surface as two people sit in the booth around the table. There are marks and bruises all over the woman’s skin and Enji can only watch in distant horror as one of the people sitting in the booth leans forward and sucks at the skin at her hip openly. The woman squirms and like a flash of lightning the other person pulls out a whip and then the woman writhes more and Enji has to look away. “What the hell, Tsunagu?!” Enji shouts into his companion’s ear, finding everywhere he looks to be unsafe. “Says the man who’s overseen several sex toy campaigns.” Even over the music, Enji can hear the eye roll in Tsunagu’s voice. “That’s different!” He chances looking up again and breathes a sigh of relief at seeing a wall of liquor bottles backlit with neon lights. Enji could use several drinks right about now. Tsunagu flags down a bar tender with brown skin and thin limbs. “Two specials, please.” Seconds later two large drinks that somehow glow neon orange appear in front of them. Tsunagu hands Enji one and then holds up his own glass to eye-level. “To newness.” Enji raises his glass as well, though he eyes the contents suspiciously. Nothing natural could be this color. But knowing Tsunagu, if he doesn’t take at least a sip, he’ll never hear the end of it. So, they clink glasses and each take a drink. It’s surprisingly good, whatever the concoction is, and Enji downs half of it in one go. He’s thirstier than he realized and the drink really hits the spot. Tsunagu smiles at him over the rim of his glass and Enji tries not to be embarrassed at the knowing look in his eyes. Both men turn to lean back against the bar, drinks in hand, and they survey their surroundings. Everywhere Enji looks, there’s too much skin and not enough clothing. At one point he sees a young woman with a brown bob holding a leash. At the end of it is a young man, who looks younger than the woman, with a mop of green hair and a naked chest. The woman sits down in an open booth and Enji can only watch in confused awe as she yanks the leash down. The young man does little to resist, and then he’s on all fours on the ground. The woman doesn’t let go of the leash as she flags down one of the waitstaff. In the second a bowl of water appears and the woman takes it graciously. She leans down and places it in front of the young man on the floor. The young man dives face first into the bowl of water and Enji can only watch as the young man literally laps at the water. “Puppy play,” Tsunagu says right in his ear, and Enji startles. “Excuse me?” Tsunagu rolls his eyes like Enji’s ignorance physically pains him. “Puppy play; you know, where one person acts like a dog or puppy, usually the submissive party and the other acts as their owner and disciplinarian, usually the dominant party.” Tsunagu takes a sip from his drink. “It’s quite the experience.” Enji’s eyes bug out of his head without his permission as he turns away from the spectacle. “You’ve done this…” Enji can’t even say it, so he gestures vaguely at the couple he’s been watching (in the corner of his eye he sees the young man get on his knees, place his hands in front of him like paws, and pant ). “I’ve done a lot of things,” Tsunagu replies, winking. Enji sputters, unable to come up with an adequate response. It’s like sunglasses have been removed from covering his eyes and now he can see Tsunagu in a different, clearer light. “Why exactly did you bring me here?” Tsunagu knocks back the rest of his drink and takes a deep breath like he’s working himself to fight someone. “You’re a control freak, old man.” Before Enji can protest being called “old” (he’s only ten years older than Tsunagu and not even fifty yet!), Tsunagu continues. “While your wife frayed at the seams under your thumb, there are plenty of folks here that are made of more flexible fibers; they want you to stretch them to their limit.” Enji’s mouth dries and his brain kind of breaks trying to make sense of just what Tsunagu is implying. Before he can try and formulate a response, someone bumps into him, making him spill some of his drink. He mentally curses and outwardly turns to snap at the offender. “Watch where you’re going.” “Hmmm, I almost want to disobey if it means you’ll keep talking like that, Daddy.” The baritone voice is melodic and Enji looks down, down, down until he meets eyes as gold as sunset in the summer. They loom large on their slim face, outlined strangely with what he can only guess is eyeliner. But what grabs Enji’s attention by the throat is what he’s said. No one’s called him “Daddy” since… “I am not your father, boy,” he spits, disliking where his thoughts are going. “But I bet you want to be; to punish me real good,” the young man simpers. Enji’s at a loss. The typical response he gets to his thundering tone of voice is cowering and apologies. This little thing has his (surprisingly fit) chest puffed out and his arms on his narrow hips. Enji knows immediately that his hands would completely wrap around that waist til his fingers met each other. Even Rei wasn’t as— Damn it! Again his thoughts were entering territory best left alone. “You will leave me and my companion alone. Go bother someone else, preferably your own age, boy .” Tsunagu makes his presence known with a scoff and places a hand on Enji’s shoulder. “I don’t think you get what’s happening here, dear friend.” The young man looks between Enji and Tsunagu with narrowed eyes, and Enji’s reminded of a predator. “Don’t tell me that’s your type.” Enji forgets that he wants this nuisance gone out of his sheer disgust at the idea of him and Tsunagu being involved . He gears up to say as much when Tsunagu steps forward slightly and in front of Enji. “You’ll have to excuse my friend here; he’s new to this scene. And you’ll have to excuse yourself for confusing the threads of friendship for something more.” “Thank fuck,” the young man says, leaning back into Enji’s space. “Can’t believe a Daddy such as you is new to ‘this’.” “And just what is that supposed to mean?” Enji regrets asking as soon as the words leave his lips. You’re just encouraging this stranger who’s half your age , at least! Rather than answer him, the stranger mimes zipping his lips shut. Enji lets out a huff of annoyance. He knows on some level that he’s being goaded, but he can’t seem to help himself. “Answer me, boy!” Enji watches in astonished real time as a shiver wracks through the stranger’s entire body and those golden eyes sharpen. The young man mimes unzipping his lips and smirks softly. “Just seems to come naturally to you, is all.” Tsunagu had tried to give him a run down on “his world” for years now, and for once Enji wishes he’d listened at least once. He idly wonders if it’ll look weird if he pulls out his phone and googles just exactly what kind of ‘daddy’ this young man thinks he is. As if sensing his distress, Tsunagu speaks up. “Go easy on him.” Then he walks away. Enji isn’t quite sure who Tsunagu addressed either, which stokes his ire. He feels like he’s being made a fool of and he won’t stand for it. So he turns to the young man, ready to tell him to get lost. But, there the young man stands, holding out a whiskey, neat, and a demure smile on his face. “Since you’re new to this, I’ll ease you into it, yeah?” He offers the drink. Enji doesn’t know why, but he takes the offered drink and sips slowly. It’s stronger and smoother than he expected for someone so young to afford. His confusion must show on his face because the young man laughs lightly. “Can’t have Daddy drinking swill, can I?” That word again! It twists Enji’s guts into knots. He takes a longer sip of his drink this time around before settling on a response. “Quit it.” “That’s not how this works, ‘m afraid.” Enji only watches as the young man dares to touch his arm. His hands are smaller than Enji expected and the knowledge causes static between his ears for a split second. “And what exactly is ‘this’?” The young man grins like a cat that’s caught the canary, and Enji realizes his mistake too late. Emboldened, the young man steps into Enji’s space and places his other hand over one of Enji’s pecs. He even squeezes lightly before replying and Enji hates that his body responds with a quickened heart rate. “I’ve never had to teach my own Daddy how to be one before,” the young man muses. He steps up on the tips of his toes, yet his lips just barely meet Enji’s jaw. Undeterred, he continues. “It’s a good thing I like a challenge.” The young man pulls out a sharpie from somewhere and writes numbers boldly on the back of Enji’s hand. He then kisses the ink and winks at Enji. “Call me once you’ve done some research; I’ll be waiting, big guy.” And then the crowd swallows the young man up. Enji looks down at his hand and resolves to go to the bathroom and wash the offensive ink off. Like he would call someone so young for something like… Well, what exactly. He’s still confused how the young man knew he was a father, and how that plays into whatever the hell all that was just now. He looks at his hand again before scoffing and heading off into the crowd to try and find his wayward friend. By the time he gets home that night (morning, really), Tsunagu’s taken to telling him all about twinks and twunks, what a sugar daddy is, how that differs from a Daddy, and finally, what makes Enji such a “natural.” “You’re like denim fibers, stiff and unwilling to bend to the wearer if they don’t quite fit.” Tsunagu makes a face and Enji knows what he’s about to say. “Rei being a prime example.” The reminder of his ex-wife makes it hard for him to swallow. It’s taken a few months in therapy, but he knows now that what he expected of and how he treated Rei led to her snapping. Nothing was ever good enough for him back then, and with each child that didn’t show the same passion for [insert profession], his behavior and treatment became more severe. Everything came to a violent head when Enji came home one day to a crying Shouto, a shattered tea kettle, and a withered Rei cowering in the corner of the kitchen, eyes glazed over. The Enji of before would snap at Tsunagu for even bringing Rei up, but the Enji of now simply lets out a sigh and tries to understand what Tsunagu’s metaphors really mean. “So, what exactly would you suggest?” He finally asks, still unsure where this conversation will end. “The young man from the other night seemed to fit your style perfectly; he wants a firm, unyielding hand and you my friend, have that down pat.” Tsunagu shrugs. “Plus, it might be…beneficial to letting stress out and make it easier for you to bend to your children’s’ needs.” Enji gapes like a fish at that. He and his therapist have mostly discussed him suppressing his harsher behaviors and inclinations, but from what he’s learned today from Tsunagu (and his web search into the wee hours of the morning), being a Daddy does come naturally to him. He hates that he finds it appealing to have someone who wants him to ultimately, be himself and all that it entails. The young man crosses Enji’s mind again for the thousandth time and he recalls how he practically melted when Enji made his demands. At the time, it’d twisted Enji’s guts into knots that he attributed to annoyance, but thinking about it again, he realizes the knots were from interest. No one’s ever responded him that way, sexual or otherwise. “All I’m saying, is that you might find yourself more accustomed to this lifestyle than you think.”

⛓️‍💥

The next few days, Enji replays bits and pieces of his conversation with Tsunagu. One part specifically keeps bubbling to the surface, so he decides to do some additional research. What he finds stalls him like a poorly driven stick shift. The little may wish to regress in age to teenage or younger years Immediately he envisions the young man from the other night. When he considers the young man’s behavior, it strikes him retrospectively as childish and bratty. And his clothing screamed barely legal, though the scruff at his chin and knowing eyes indicated he was older— at least in his early twenties. The way he’d poked and prodded… What Tsunagu said starts to make sense. Or more like, the things he didn’t say have become clear. Even so, he decides to sleep on the decision. He has the distinct feeling that there will be no turning back if he gives into this new lifestyle. Enji tosses and turns until he finally reaches for his phone and opens his messaging app. The foreign numbers come to mind after some digging (photographic memory, thank you very much) and he types them in and sends a message before he can second guess himself. The reply is almost immediate. Good to hear from you! I was starting to worry >< Let’s get a coffee and chat sometime this week, yeah? The coy, brat from that night is nowhere to be found in that response and Enji finds that he’s curious as to who this young man is, why he wants to be a little and why his sights are set on Enji in particular. But first things first… I don’t make it a habit to meet people whose name I don’t know. The three bubbles appear and disappear a few times. Enji feels exhaustion weigh at him now that the adrenaline of contacting the young man has gone. He’s seconds from falling under when his phone buzzes in his hand. Just call me Hawks.

🦅

The location that Hawks sends Enji is near his workplace, so they decide to meet around lunchtime. On some level Enji feels strange taking company time to meet with someone about something so… personal , but if he waits until the weekend to figure this all out, he’ll lose his nerve. It took a Herculean effort to even admit his plans to Tsunagu (he’d finally reasoned that if things went badly, someone had to know where he was and what he was doing). Once lunch arrives, Enji is the first one out of the office. He makes good time to the coffee shop and snags the only booth they have in the back. He doesn’t know what to expect, but a commotion at the door steals his attention. In broad daylight Hawks looks in his twenties like Enji suspected he is, but his attire makes him appear younger; he wears overalls with holes in the knees and one side unclipped to reveal a sheer red shirt. If Enji squints hard enough he can see something shiny right around where Hawks’s nipple should be. He swallows thickly. Hawks spots him after searching the establishment and beams so brightly that Enji winces. No one’s looked this happy to see him since… Well, ever. “Thanks for making time to meet,” is the first thing Hawks says after settling into his seat. “I know you’re probably hella busy.” “What are you wearing?” Enji blurts out the question, his anxiety spiking at realizing that yes that is a pierced nipple just out on display. Hawks has the gall to look down in confusion before looking back up and raising an eyebrow. “Clothes?” Then Hawks’s confusion melts into something more predatory. “Does my outfit bother you?” Enji feels like he’s being tested somehow, but he’s not sure why. But like with any test, he plows forward. “You’re a grown man; what my thoughts on your outfit are don’t matter.” Hawks blinks at him owlishly. He leans forward on his elbows, golden eyes burning with intensity as they meet Enji’s gaze. “Thought you did some research?” “I don’t understand what—” “If you’re going to be my Daddy, only your thoughts matter; if this outfit doesn’t suit you, you would have every right to tell me to change.” He smirks. “And if I argue, you have every right to discipline me.” Enji’s cock jumps in interest, though he’s not sure if it’s the promise of absolute authority or the implications of disciplining Hawks. His face heats like it’s on fire when he realizes that both intrigue him. But, he’s not sure how to proceed forward for once in his life. “Look, why don’t we use this ‘date’ as a trial run?” Hawks suggests, offering a soft smile. “If things don’t work out, then we can just fuck and call it time well spent.” “You’re shameless,” Enji replies, feeling his hears heat. “If things get too risqué or uncomfortable for you, say ‘red.’” Hawks gives him a wide smile before his face almost morphs into a younger looking countenance. “Does Daddy really not like my outfit?” Hawks pouts, crossing his arms across his chest. Enji suddenly recalls something Tsunagu said before he left for work that day. More than anything, it’s about trust and honesty. If he trusts you in that headspace, then the least you can do is pay him with your honest thoughts and feelings. “It’s a little revealing,” Enji replies honestly, staring pointedly at Hawks’s chest. “What if I said I picked it out with Daddy specifically in mind?” “And what about me says that I would enjoy such an…outfit?” Hawks frowns and looks down at himself before looking Enji’s torso up in down, no doubt taking in his navy suit, black undershirt, and Rolex watch. Not that he would tell anyone, but Enji also wears Creed because he wants to linger in a room long after he’s left it. He watches in real time as Hawks memorizes the scent. Finally, Hawks replies. “I thought Daddy would like me to show off what a good investment I am.” Hawks bites his lip and shuffles on his arms against the table. The movement draws Enji’s attention to the metal shining there once again. “And in the event that Daddy didn’t want to play, I wanted to leave a lasting impression.” “Well, if you’re going to be mine, you’ll dress more appropriately.” Enji is just as surprised as Hawks is at his words, but he finds he means them in the resulting silence. “Can we go shopping?” Hawks asks slowly, though his gold eyes glint in the afternoon sun filtering in through a nearby window. Hawks questions calms Enji somehow. In his research, he’d read that those that fulfill the Daddy role often buy things for their little. Enji has plenty of money to spend, and he never had the chance to purchase his own children’s clothes himself. “I work until late tonight, but this weekend we’ll go get you some appropriate clothes.” “Okay, Daddy,” Hawks says with a million dollar smile. He clears his throat. “Blue.” “Blue?” “I wanted to end the scene and blue is my chosen safe word.” “Why?” Hawks blushes furiously but he evenly says, “It was my ex-Daddy’s favorite color.” Enji doesn’t know what to say in response to that , and his stomach curdles like rotting cheese. Hawks saves him from embarrassing himself most likely by scooting his chair backward. He nods toward the counter. “I’m craving a latte. Be right back~” Enji reaches out for Hawks’ wrist and grips it firmly. Hawks jumps and if he had feathers they’d be ruffled. He clears his throat. “What kind of Daddy would I be if I made you pay for it?” Hawks blinks owlishly at him as he pulls away to get a twenty out of his wallet. “Get a treat too; you’re too thin.” “You don’t have to say and do all this; I ended the scene so—” “I want to,” Enji cuts him off and shoves the money firmly in Hawks hand. Hawks looks from Enji’s determined eyes to the money in his hand before a small smile, the first genuine he’s shown Enji since meeting him, alighting his lips. “Sir, yes sir!” Enji watches him go and order, settling back into his seat. He chooses to ignore how his heart skips a beat in his chest. It’s old age, surely. Hawks returns with a large steaming cup and a plate with what appears to be a cinnamon roll. Enji shoots him a frown at the food choice, but Hawks simply shrugs and winks. “Makes life sweeter.” Enji scoffs before shifting his weight in his seat. They sit in silence, or relative silence; Hawks slurps slightly when he drinks and makes little chirps and sounds with each bite of his cinnamon roll. It’s kind of…nice, the silence. “So, what else do you do besides pick up littles like me at clubs?” And there goes the nice silence. Enji scowls at Hawks, but all he gets is an infuriating (ly charming) smile in return. “Why?” Enji usually doesn’t mind talking about work, but if he’s learned anything in the past tumultuous two years of his life, talking about his work is a fast way to ruin things. And for whatever reason, Enji doesn’t want whatever this budding thing is to die before it can start to bloom. “Just wondering,” Hawks shrugs. “I mean you’re dressed like you own some kind of big, bad company, but you’re built like a body builder. Sue me for being curious.” “It’s good to work out,” Enji replies defensively, crossing his arms across his chest. Hawks’s eyes zero in on the center of his chest and he realizes that the muscles there are flexing. Exasperated, he uncrosses his arms. “You could stand to work out.” Hawks makes a face like someone told him pickles compliment well with chocolate. “I bet you only eat salad.” Enji resists the blush that wants to rise to his face. “What’s wrong with salad?” Hawks rolls his eyes slowly and like it pains him. “What’s right with salad? It basically tastes like grass.” “I don’t know what I was expecting from someone who goes by the name Hawks.” Hawks squints at Enji like he’s a spaceman under the microscope before his eyes widen with glee. “Omg, did you just make a joke?” When all Enji does in reply is smirk ever so slightly, Hawks cracks a grin and lets out a little laugh. “I bet you have a wicked sense of humor.” “Hmm.” Hawks rolls his eyes at the noncommittal answer before finishing up his drink and snack. He slowly rises to his feet and Enji follows his lead belatedly. A part of him wilts knowing that his time with Hawks is coming to a close, but like with everything, he pushes past the feeling. “Let me know when you get to your destination.” He feels the tips of his ears heat but he continues (even if it feels like desperation). “I’ll pick you up Friday evening.” Hawks looks at him, slightly confused. “Not that I don’t mind having plans with you, obviously, but what is the plan?” Enji pointedly looks Hawks up and down. “How else am I going to get you looking presentable?” Hawks looks down at himself as if he’s forgotten what he’s wearing. His eyes dart back up to Enji. “You’re sarcastic to boot; this is going to be so fun, Daddy .” He salutes. “See you Friday evening!” Enji watches Hawks walk away and tries not to feel like he’s taking a minuscule piece with him. For the first time in his adult life he’s looking forward to the weekend.