terms of service

Three weeks into the job, Taiki had the performance down cold.

Smile when they talk about themselves. Lean in when they mention money. Touch the back of their hand when they say something that's supposed to be funny. Look impressed. Look interested. Look like their words is the most fascinating thing you've ever heard, even when they're explaining the difference between two watches that both cost more than your yearly rent.

He was good at it. Annoyingly good. Alan had clapped him on the shoulder after his second week and said he was a natural, which Taiki took as a compliment while internally translating it as you're good at lying to people's faces, which—fine. He'd been doing that for years anyway. At least now someone paid him for it.

The money was obscene. The amount of money that made him feel like he'd stumbled into the wrong life, which maybe he had, but he wasn't complaining.

He was mid-pour for a middle-aged businessman when he felt it.

He felt the way the entire room changed atmosphere.

Conversations got quieter. The customer beside him sat straighter. Two hosts at the corner table suddenly became very interested in their drinks. Even the background music seemed to shrink.

Taiki glanced up and saw a man had walked in.

Tall. Dressed in jet black suit. His hair was swept back neatly, tinted glasses sitting across a handsome face. There was a cigarette between his two slender fingers.

He took a seat alone near the far booth and nobody moved toward him.

"Oh, shit." Alan cursed quietly beside Taiki.

"Who's that?"

"A customer." Alan was already straightening up. "I have to—there's a thing, at another table—"

"You just came from that table."

"The other one."

He was gone before Taiki finished the sentence.

Taiki looked around. Two of the other senior hosts had found sudden urgent business elsewhere. Ryuto was by the bar pretending to look at his iPad.

Taiki looked back at the mysterious man.

He was sitting alone, not looking around for attention or someone. He was just smoking and acting like he had nowhere else to be.

Difficult customer, Taiki decided. That's why everyone is ducking. He's probably a nightmare.

He excused himself and walked over.

Taiki slid into the seat across from him with his best smile.

"Why sitting alone, Handsome-san? That seems like a waste of a Thursday night."

Taiki didn't understand why the room suddenly went quiet.

The man turned his head slowly at Taiki.

"It's Yamamoto Sekai. And you are?"

"Sato Taiki." He kept the smile steady. "Would you like company tonight, Sekai-san?"

A pause. Then Sekai said, "Sure," and reached for the drink menu.

The VVIP room was the size of Taiki's entire apartment, which he thought about every time he stepped into it. Dark walls, low lighting, a big table you could fit six people around.

Sekai had requested it without looking at the menu. He just glanced at Ryuto who magically appeared out of nowhere, and said the room number. Ryuto had nodded, looked at Taiki with an expression Taiki couldn't fully understand, and then nodded again.

Then the drinks order came and Taiki nearly lost his composure entirely.

Jackpot, he thought, watching the most expensive bottles arrive. Absolute jackpot.

He settled near Sekai and turned his charm up.

He poured slowly, just like Alan had demonstrated. Let his fingers curl around the glass just so before setting it down. Smiled sweetly and a little conspiratorial, as if saying it's just us in here.

"You come here often?" He knew how it sounded. He said it anyway.

Sekai picked up the glass. "Sometimes."

"First time I've seen you."

"First time you've been here to see."

Fair point. Taiki tilted his head, let his gaze drop to Sekai's hand on the glass for just a moment. "Well, I'm glad we finally met."

Sekai looked at him over his drink and said nothing. He just continued to take a sip.

Taiki tried again.

An hour in, he had cycled through everything. Leaning close enough that his shoulder nearly touched Sekai's. Letting his fingers rest against Sekai's when he reached to refill the glass. Dropping his voice lower when he spoke, tilting his head—he knew exactly what that angle did, and it worked every time.

Sekai… talked. That was the strange part. He wasn't cold or dismissive. He asked questions, listened to the answers, made occasional observations that were somehow interesting.

But every time Taiki leaned in, Sekai simply received it. And then he looked back at him with slightly amused expression, like he was watching a card trick he'd already figured out but was enjoying anyway.

His knee found Sekai's thigh under the table and held there. Sekai did not react, and just lit another cigarette.

Two hours in, something sour crept up in Taiki's ribs.

He was good at this. He knew he was good at this. He had watched men twice Sekai's confidence dissolve in forty minutes. Whatever signal Sekai was supposed to be giving back, he wasn't giving it, and the absence was starting to irritate Taiki.

Taiki eventually sat back and poured himself a drink. He set the glass down a little harder than necessary.

"Honestly," he said, before he could talk himself out of it, "I don't know what you're getting out of this. Rich guys book this room and pay that much for—what, someone to sit beside you? You could've hired a friend for a cheaper price."

Sekai went still for a moment, and then he laughed.

Taiki could tell the difference between performative laugh and real laugh—that was his whole job about, and that one was real.

"That's the first honest thing you've said tonight," Sekai said, when he'd settled again.

"I'm a host. I'm not supposed to say honest things."

"No. But it was more interesting."

Taiki looked at him. At his sharp jaw, his sharp eyes that had gotten somewhat soften, and the way his lips smirked.

Two and a half hours of flirtation had gotten him nothing. And yet, one sarcastic comment had gotten him that.

Taiki picked up the bottle again and poured. He felt like he wanted to hear this man's laugh again.

➽───────────────❥

Sekai requested Taiki four nights later. Then again three days after that.

By the third week, Ryuto had stopped even pretending to assign Taiki to other customers when Sekai's reservation came in. He just handed Taiki the room number on a slip of paper and walked away.

Alan clapped Taiki on the shoulder one night before he disappeared into the VVIP room.

"You're doing great," he said, grinning too wide.

"You look terrified."

"I'm not terrified. I'm delighted. Those are different."

He disappeared before Taiki could ask what that meant.

The other hosts had noticed. They didn't say anything directly, but Taiki caught the looks. One of the newer guys had asked Ryuto why Taiki kept getting the same customer, and Ryuto had shut that down. Taiki hadn't heard what those words were but the guy never brought it up again.

Taiki assumed Sekai just liked looking at him.

Rich men did that. They acquired things that pleased them aesthetically and kept requesting them until the novelty wore off. It happened to other hosts all the time. He'd serve Sekai for a few more weeks, the man would get bored, and that would be that.

Except Sekai didn't get bored. And he wasn't just looking.

He asked questions. Small ones at first, slipped casually into conversation. He'd remembered Taiki saying something offhand about the Shimokitazawa bar he drank at on his days off, and brought it up two weeks later, completely naturally mid-sentence. Taiki had laughed off the fact that he'd been remembered. It was just a tactic rich men used to make you feel special.

But then Sekai did it again. And again.

He remembered the name of the train line Taiki complained about. He remembered that Taiki's father had smoked the same brand of cigarettes he did, mentioned once in passing at one in the morning. He remembered which drink Taiki always poured for himself last thing at night when he thought the bill was wrapping up.

The worst part was what happened when Taiki stopped performing.

He tried not to. He kept the smile running, kept the angle of his head just right, kept his fingers near enough that the suggestion was always there. But Sekai would ask something real and Taiki would answer it. And he would glance up to find Sekai watching him genuinely.

Like the flirting was background noise, and Taiki talking was the actual event.

The champagne that night cost three hundred thousand yen a bottle.

Taiki knew because he'd checked the menu during his first week out of curiosity. He'd laughed about it to Alan afterwards. Alan hadn't laughed back, which should've told him something.

He refilled Sekai's glass and watched the bubbles rise.

"Three hundred thousand yen. You could pay my rent for four months with this bottle."

Sekai didn't look offended. He picked up the glass and turned it slightly in his fingers.

"What would you do with it instead?"

Taiki smiled. "Something smarter than drinking it."

"That's not an answer."

The cigarette between his fingers had burned down. He stubbed it out and reached for another.

"University," he said as he lit up the cigarettte. "Economics. Maybe business. I had the grades for it."

"What stopped you?"

"Money, duh. My family situation fell apart right before I would've applied. So."

Sekai looked at him with unreadable expression.

"What draws you to economics specifically?"

Taiki planned to give vague and pleasant answer, but then he thought about the business dinner he'd overheard over a week ago. Four men in suits talking acquisition strategy. He'd caught an inconsistency in what they said about their projected margins. It was so bad he'd almost said something.

"The way money actually moves," he said instead. "How capital concentrates. Why certain markets look healthy from the outside and aren't."

Taiki sighed as he continued. "I heard a conversation last Thursday. Their Tokyo acquisition numbers didn't line up with what they said about their Osaka operating costs. Either they were lying to each other or they had a third party absorbing losses that nobody at that table was mentioning."

A beat of silence.

"You were pouring drinks," Sekai said.

"I was also listening."

Sekai set his glass down slowly and looked at Taiki with a smirk.

➽───────────────❥

Sekai never asked follow-up questions the same night. That was the thing that kept catching Taiki off guard.

A customer would normally push. Press until they got things they could use later when they wanted something. But Sekai would just listen, light another cigarette, and let the conversation go somewhere else entirely. Then two weeks later he'd say something that proved he'd remembered it all.

Taiki mentioned his phone once. Complained casually while pouring wine, because the thing had died in his pocket again and he'd missed a notification from work. He said something like it's a brick with a cracked screen and I've been meaning to replace it for six months and then moved on. Sekai made no comment.

The next time Taiki served Sekai, there was a plain box on the table in the VVIP room. Complete with charger and a case Taiki actually liked.

"What's this?"

"Your phone dies," Sekai said.

"I know my phone dies, I—" Taiki picked up the box and turned it over. It was the newest iPhone with the largest memory. "Sekai-san. I can't take this."

"You can."

"It's too—"

"It's a phone." Sekai tapped ash from his cigarette. "You need one that works."

Taiki held the box for another three seconds, then set it down because he didn't have time to argue about it properly.

He used it that same night. Of course he did. It was the best phone he'd ever touched.

He didn't say thank you. He told himself he was still deciding how he felt about it. Sekai didn't bring it up again.

Then there was the jacket.

Taiki had stepped outside to take a breather, still in his shirt from the floor. It was particularly cold today. He was standing there suffering through a cigarette when one of the club's staff came out with a coat draped over one arm.

"From the guest in the VVIP room," the man said, and handed it over before Taiki could object.

He put it on. He didn't want to but he was also freezing and the coat was right there and it was… soft and warm.

He stood in the alley in this coat that probably cost more than his monthly rent and smoked his cigarette in silence.

When he went back inside he said, "You didn't have to do that."

Sekai glanced at him from across the table. "You were shivering."

"I was fine."

"You weren't."

The shirt came after that. Taiki had mentioned in passing, some idle complaint about nothings, that he had a white shirt that had taken a stain and kept it through four washes. He only meant to say it to fill the silence. He hadn't even been looking at Sekai.

Two visits later, a few new shirts arrived, folded into thin branded sleeves, better than anything hanging in Taiki's wardrobe. He held it up and immediately felt cheap by comparison.

"This is excessive," he said.

Sekai said nothing. He was reading something, or pretending to.

The shoes were the one that genuinely made Taiki stop and stare. Not because they were flashy, because they weren't. That would have been easier to refuse. They were plain yet well-made, clearly chosen because they'd be comfortable for long hours shift.

He hadn't said his feet hurt around Sekai. He was certain of it.

Which meant Sekai had simply noticed.

He wore them once to check the fit. Then kept wearing them because they made his whole night easier and his feet didn't ache at three in the morning, and he hated how much he noticed the difference.

Taiki told himself the gifts were transactional. Rich men gave things to people they liked. It meant nothing except that Sekai had money and a habit of paying attention. Taiki had accepted that explanation and moved on.

Then he got sick.

A mild flu, sore throat, headache behind the eyes, his body felt like running at eighty percent. He'd dragged himself into the club because his rent wasn't going to pay itself and stood through his shift smiling at customers.

He made it through most of the night before Sekai came and looked at him.

"You're unwell."

"I'm fine."

"You're moving sluggish than usual."

Taiki couldn't say anything.

By the end of his shift, there was a paper bag on the table. Cold medicine, throat lozenges, vitamins, packets of the electrolyte drink. A container of rice porridge from somewhere that clearly wasn't a convenience store. He stood looking at it and felt something in his chest move.

A staff member appeared at his elbow.

"The car is waiting out front."

"I didn't ask for—"

"Yamamoto-san arranged it."

Sekai himself had already gone. No moment of goodbye where Taiki could have argued with him about all of these.

The driver didn't speak. Taiki stared out the window the whole way home.

At midnight his phone buzzed.

Yamamoto Sekai: How's the fever?

Taiki held the phone for a long time. He sat there in Sekai's coat on his secondhand couch eating porridge.

Sato Taiki: Fine. Thank you for all of these.

Then stared at it for forty seconds and deleted it.

Sato Taiki: You didn't have to do that.

Deleted that too.

Eventually he typed it all back and immediately clicked send. He put the phone face-down on the couch and ate the rest of the porridge in silence, telling himself the warmth in his chest was just the fever breaking.

➽───────────────❥

He wore the shoes again to his next shift. That was the first mistake, because Alan noticed within thirty seconds of Taiki walking through the staff entrance.

"Are those new?"

"No."

Alan crouched down in the middle of the corridor and squinted at Taiki's feet.

"Those are absolutely new. And also very nice." He stood back up. "Yamamoto-san?"

"Shut up."

"That's a yes." Alan fell into step beside him, grinning. "The phone was one thing. The coat I thought, okay, it was cold, maybe that's just him being—"

"It's nothing. He has money and nothing better to do with it."

"Right."

"It's a customer thing. Rich men do this."

"They really don't." Alan reached over and touched the collar of Taiki's shirt. Taiki slapped his hand away. "Is that also—"

"Alan-kun!"

"Taiki, he bought you a whole outfit!"

"He bought me a phone and a coat and a pair of shoes, none of which are related—"

"And a shirt. I can tell by the cut." Alan pointed.

Taiki opened his locker. "You're reading into it."

Alan leaned against the locker next to his, arms folded, the grin not going anywhere. "You know what that is, right? That's not a customer thing. That's a sugar daddy thing."

"It's absolutely not—" His face went hot before he could stop it, which was humiliating. "That is not what this is, he just—he noticed things and he—it's not like that, it's just—"

"Sure."

"Alan-kun, I am serious, it's just a—it's a usual behavior of rich men."

"Rich men give wine and watches." Alan held up one finger. "Not cold medicine and porridge when you're sick."

Taiki's face grew warmer as he closed his locker. "I'm going to pour wine in your hair."

"Ooh~ scary~" Alan pushed off the wall and followed him out toward the floor, still talking. "Here's the thing, though. I'm not making fun of you, really—"

"You're absolutely making fun of me."

"A little. But listen." Alan dropped his voice. "He's not buying you things because he can. He's buying you things because he noticed you needed them."

Taiki didn't say anything.

"Most men with that kind of money throw a random Rolex at someone and call it affection. Yamamoto-san bought you shoes that fit for your shift. That's—" Alan made a vague gesture. "That's a different category of attentive."

Taiki scoffed. "I never said I needed any of it."

"No. That's also the point." Alan walked off toward his section, and the grin turned sincere.

Ryuto was at the bar reviewing something on his iPad when Taiki found him before the floor opened. Taiki had been turning the conversation over since Alan walked away and decided the simplest thing was to be matter-of-fact about it, because there was nothing actually wrong here.

"Kazuhara-san. I just want to let you know that Sekai-san sent a car for me when I was feeling under the weather few days ago. He also had bought me some things up until now."

Ryuto looked up from his iPad.

"I just figured you should know, since he's a regular customer and there's probably some policy."

Ryuto stared at him in silence.

"But don't worry," Taiki added rather hastily. "I'm not going to let it affect anything. And he keeps ordering the good bottles, so the commissions alone—"

"Right. Thanks for telling me." Ryuto finally spoke.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

Taiki waited for the rest of it. The guidelines, the reminder about professional distance with clients. Ryuto just continued scrolling on his screen.

"You're not going to say anything about it?"

"What would you like me to say?"

"I don't know. Something managerial."

Ryuto turned a page on his iPad. "Keep him happy. Keep the bottles coming. Get some rest when you're sick."

He walked away toward the back office, and Taiki stood at the bar watching him go, waiting for some follow-up that didn't come.

Later that night, in the break room, he took two of the throat lozenges from his jacket pocket—Sekai's lozenges, from Sekai's bag—and unwrapped one without thinking, and only noticed what he'd done after it was already in his mouth.

He sat with that for a moment.

Then he ate the second one too, because his throat still hurt and they worked.

➽───────────────❥

The thing about Sekai's visits was that they had no fixed schedule.

He came when he came. Tuesday, sometimes. Late Friday. Once on a Sunday, which was unusual enough that Taiki had noticed. There was no pattern to predict, no reservation to prepare himself. Sekai just appeared, someone came to tell Taiki, and Taiki would finish with whatever customer he was currently charming and walk toward the VVIP room.

He told himself the arrangement was professional.

He stopped telling himself that around the fifth or sixth time he caught himself looking at the door.

He found his eyes drifting during conversations with other customers, checking the club entrance, and then pulling his attention back when he caught himself doing it.

Thursday became, Sekai hasn't come since Monday. Saturday became, it's been nearly a week.

He told Alan he was just tracking revenue.

Alan smiled at him knowingly. Taiki almost poured ice water on him.

The time Sekai came after a longer gap, Taiki sat a little closer to him.

"You've been away," he said as he poured the wine. It came out before he thought about whether to say it or not.

Sekai's eyes moved to him slowly. "Missed me?"

"The commissions dipped." Taiki handed him a glass.

Sekai took it without looking away from Taiki's face. "Of course."

The touching had always been part of the job.

Taiki knew exactly how to do it. A hand resting briefly near a customer's on the table, a lean across to pour, a hand on a sleeve when he laughed. These were tools. He had been using them since week one.

With Sekai, he still performed them correctly at first. But Sekai never took the opening.

Most customers would see the lean and press into it, would take the touching as an invitation for more. Sekai just continued whatever he was saying. He never pushed his hand further. Never moved his arm against Taiki's when Taiki sat close. Whatever space Taiki gave him, Sekai occupied exactly that amount and nothing more.

So Taiki gave more.

He started staying a little longer after refilling the glasses instead of straightening up immediately. Just an extra second or two, close enough to catch the smoke coming off Sekai's cigarette. He told himself it was technique to keep the customer engaged.

Then one night Sekai's tie was slightly off, and Taiki reached to fix it. He finished straightening it and looked up.

Sekai's face was right there, watching him with dark eyes behind the tinted sunglasses. Taiki was close enough to see the line of his jaw, his unfairly handsome face.

He should have pulled back, but he stayed for three more seconds.

"There," Taiki whispered.

"Thank you," Sekai whispered back.

Taiki pulled back and talked about something else.

➽───────────────❥

The man's name was Fujisaki. Taiki caught it from across the room as he barked loud enough to boast his business.

He'd been mid-sentence with Sekai when it happened. One moment he was reaching for the bottle to refill their glasses, the next a hand closed around his wrist and yanked. The bottle knocked sideways and Taiki stumbled half out of his seat.

"Hey cutie." Fujisaki leaned in close, obviously drunk. "You're wasted on this table. Come sit with us."

"I'm with a guest right now." Taiki kept his voice even. "I can arrange for another host to—"

The grip tightened, Fujisaki pulled Taiki's jaw hard—

Then suddenly it was over.

Three seconds, maybe four. Security moved so fast Taiki barely tracked it—Fujisaki's hand releasing his wrist whether he wanted it to or not, and then Fujisaki was simply gone.

What Taiki noticed first was Sekai's hand on his waist.

"I'm fine," Taiki said automatically.

Sekai didn't let go.

The floor had already returned to normal, like nothing had happened. Taiki straightened up and looked toward where the security team had taken Fujisaki, and something snagged in his thinking.

They'd moved fast. Clubs had good security, he knew that. He'd seen the bouncers near the entrance handle trouble before. But those men hadn't come from the entrance. They'd come from the wall directly beside their table. And they hadn't looked at the floor manager when it was done.

They'd looked at Sekai.

Why would they look at Sekai?

He thought about all the times he'd felt watched without being able to place where from. The way certain tables always stayed empty around wherever Sekai sat. The way nobody bumped into Sekai in corridors, not even by accident.

They weren't protecting the club.

He sat back down slowly. His wrist had a faint red mark on it where Fujisaki's grip had been.

Sekai's hands finally left his waist.

"I need air," Taiki said as he got up again.

The rooftop balcony behind the VVIP floor existed mostly for staff. Taiki had found it during his second week. He came here when the noise inside became too much.

The city spread out below them in every direction. He lit a cigarette and exhaled, trying to calm down.

"Wow." He laughed a little. "Security moves fast here."

Sekai stood beside him at the railing, a cigarette between his own fingers.

"I mean that." Taiki watched the traffic crawl through the intersection below. "I've worked two other places. Nobody moves like that." He took another drag. "I'm curious though. They weren't looking at the floor manager when they finished. Did you notice that?"

Sekai didn't answer.

"They were looking at you."

Silence.

Taiki turned to look at him. "Who the hell are you, actually?"

Sekai stubbed out his cigarette on the railing's edge. Then he reached over and pulled Taiki's cigarette from between his lips with two fingers and stubbed that out too.

"You ask dangerous questions for someone so young."

Something sparked inside Taiki. Adrenaline was a strange thing, it made distances feel shorter and soul braver.

He reached up and took Sekai's glasses off.

Sharp eyes. Darker than he'd expected, apparently the tinted lenses had been softening this whole time. Sekai looked at him just like how he'd look at him the night Taiki mentioned economics.

Taiki kissed him.

Partly because he'd been thinking about it for months. Partly because his hands were still unsteady from what happened downstairs, and doing something reckless felt better.

Sekai's response was calm. He stilled for a second, then his mouth moved against Taiki's, controlled and measured. Taiki thought, right, of course, nothing would crack this man's composure—

Then Sekai's hand closed around his jaw and the kiss turned into something else entirely.

Taiki's back suddenly met the wall. The breath went out of him. Sekai kissed like his restrain had been broken. It was deep and rough, making Taiki's thoughts go briefly white.

He broke away laughing because he couldn't help it, his head tipped back against the concrete.

"Okay." He breathlessly exhaled. "Okay, I was not expecting—"

Sekai's both hands gripped on his waist hard, and he kissed Taiki again before he could finish the sentence.

Which, fine. Fine.

Taiki bit Sekai's lower lip deliberately and felt the hands tighten further and something in him burned. The specific satisfaction of watching Yamamoto Sekai's composure crack because of himself. So he did it again.

Sekai pulled back just far enough.

"My hotel is ten minutes from here," he thumbed Taiki's redden lips. "Come up for a drink."

It wasn't really about the drink and they both knew it. Taiki's stomach drop in the best possible way.

"Okay," Taiki said.

➽───────────────❥

The car door closed. There were leather seats, and some uniformed driver who only nodded. Sekai’s hand rested on Taiki’s thigh, thumb moving absently over the fabric of his trousers.

They rode in silence. Taiki didn’t know what to say. He looked at Sekai’s profile, the sharp line of his jaw, and wondered what letting that restraint go entirely would look like. His stomach tightened.

The hotel was one of those towering glass luxury things. Sekai led them through a marble lobby without looking at anyone, straight to a private elevator that required a keycard.

The doors opened directly into the suite.

Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the entire skyline. Everything had that minimalist and yet terrifyingly expensive look.

Taiki stared in awe.

“You can admire the suite later,” Sekai said from behind him, close.

Then his hands were on Taiki’s shoulders, spinning him around, and Sekai kissed him rough and deep before Taiki could even get a breath in.

The kiss wasn’t like the rooftop. Sekai’s mouth was demanding, his tongue pushing past Taiki’s lips, his hands sliding down to Taiki’s ass and gripping hard. Taiki gasped into the kiss and Sekai swallowed the sound.

He broke the kiss only to lift Taiki clean off his feet, arms easily under his thighs. Taiki’s legs instinctively wrapped around Sekai's waist, his arms around Sekai’s neck.

“Sekai-san—“

Sekai carried him through the living area without a word, into the bedroom, and dropped him onto the massive bed.

Taiki bounced on the mattress, looking up as Sekai stood over him, unbuttoning his own suit jacket. He shrugged it off and draped it over a chair. His tie came next, pulled loose and discarded.

Then Sekai climbed onto the bed, knees on either side of Taiki’s hips, and leaned down to kiss him again.

This time Taiki kissed back properly, his body arching up into it. Sekai’s hands went to Taiki’s shirt, popping buttons harshly that it tore.

“That was expensive,” Taiki said against his mouth.

“I’ll buy you another.”

Sekai yanked the ruined shirt open and pushed it off Taiki’s shoulders. His trousers followed, unzipped and tugged down Taiki’s hips along with his underwear. Sekai pulled them off his legs and tossed them aside, leaving Taiki completely naked on the bed.

Sekai, by contrast, was still dressed. White shirt open, sleeves rolled to his elbows. The bulge of his erection obvious against the dark fabric. The contrast made Taiki’s skin prickle—vulnerable and exposed, while Sekai looked perfectly controlled.

Sekai’s eyes moved over him, slow and thorough.

"See something you like?" Taiki said, trying to tease.

Sekai leaned down and bit his shoulder hard enough that Taiki gasped. Then licked over the mark, soothing.

"Yes," Sekai said lowly.

Taiki shivered.

Sekai's mouth traveled over one nipple, then sucking it into his mouth until Taiki arched off the bed. Sekai switched to the other, biting gently then harder.

“Ah—Sekai-san—”

He licked into Taiki’s armpit, tongue flat against damp skin. Taiki flinched before he laughed breathlessly.

“What are you even—”

“I want every part of you marked.”

Taiki swallowed. “Possessive much, old man?”

“Yes.”

Sekai said it so calmly, it made Taiki’s pulse stuttered.

He kissed Taiki again, one hand sliding between them to wrap around Taiki’s cock. Taiki jerked, a groan ripped from him.

“Sensitive,” Sekai observed, his thumb sliding over the head.

“You—nngh—you’re dressed,” Taiki managed, hips rocking into the touch. “Not fair.”

“Nothing about this is fair,” Sekai said calmly. He stroked Taiki slowly, watching his face. “You knew that the moment you kissed me.”

Taiki’s breath hitched. He wanted to say something clever, something teasing, but Sekai’s hand moved with perfect rhythm and his mind was spinning.

Sekai's mouth went back to work. He moved as if mapping new territory, licking and sucking until Taiki’s skin felt raw. His last sanity fell apart somewhere around the time Sekai bit the inside of his thigh.

Sekai moved up, settling between Taiki’s legs. He reached for the nightstand, opening a drawer and retrieving a bottle of lube.

He poured it onto his fingers and warmed it.

“Look at me.”

Taiki met his eyes.

He felt Sekai’s slick fingers press against his entrance, then one finger pushed inside. Taiki inhaled sharply, his body tensing, then relaxing as the burn faded into a stretch. Sekai added a second finger quickly, stretching him more.

“You’re taking me so well,” Sekai said, praising him shamelessly. “Look at you, opening up.”

“Ah…” Taiki moaned, his eyes falling shut.

“Eyes on me,” Sekai ordered.

Taiki forced them open.

He was used to sex, of course he was. But not like this. Not with someone who moved like he owned what he touched. Sekai worked him open, scissoring deep until Taiki was rocking against his hand, needy sounds escaping him with each breath.

Sekai added a third finger, crooking them, brushing against that spot inside. Taiki immediately jerked. “Ah!”

“You like that, pretty boy?” Sekai murmured.

The endearment term punched through Taiki’s last shred of control. A full-body shiver wracked him.

“Sekai-san, please—”

“Please what?” Sekai’s voice rumbled against his skin.

“F-fuck—” Taiki moaned between breaths, his watery eyes staring at Sekai's. “Fuck me—”

Sekai groaned low and finally withdrew his fingers.

Taiki heard the rustle of fabric, the sound of Sekai’s zipper lowering further. He watched as Sekai slicked himself with the lube, his cock thick and hard. Then the blunt head of Sekai’s cock pressed against him.

He pushed in slowly until he was fully seated inside Taiki.

Taiki’s breath was stolen. He felt impossibly full and stretched. Sekai leaned over him, arms caging Taiki’s head.

“You feel perfect,” Sekai whispered into his ear.

Then he began to move.

Slow, deep thrusts that pushed the air from Taiki’s lungs. Sekai set a relentless rhythm, holding Taiki’s hips in place. Each thrust hit that spot again and again, sparking pleasure so intense Taiki’s vision swam.

He was moaning every breath with broken syllables, “Ah—ah—nngh—fuck—”

"That’s it." Sekai’s voice was hoarse. "Take it."

The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. Taiki’s hands scrabbled against Sekai’s back, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. His cock, trapped between their bodies, was leaking steadily, rubbing against Sekai’s stomach with every thrust.

“You’re so tight for me,” Sekai praised, his pace increasing. “Taking me so deep. My pretty boy.”

The words, the relentless friction—it was too much. Taiki felt the coiling heat in his gut tighten, tighten—

“I’m—I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, baby,” Sekai whispered, lips against his ear.

Taiki’s orgasm ripped through him. He cried out, back arching off the bed, his cock spurting untouched between their bodies.

Sekai didn’t stop. He kept moving, driving into him through the aftershocks, his hips bucking harder now that Taiki was loose and pliant. He pushed Taiki’s knees up higher, spread him wider, and fucked into him with desperation.

With a final deep thrust, Sekai went still, and groaned low right into Taiki's ear. Taiki felt the hot cum pulsed inside him, filling him up.

They lay like that for a long moment, Sekai’s weight pressing Taiki into the mattress. Their breathing loud in the quiet room.

Slowly, Sekai pulled out. Taiki felt the loss, the wetness between his thighs. He was exhausted, completely wrecked, and his mind blank.

Fuck, it was so good.

Sekai rolled onto his side, looking at Taiki’s spent and marked body.

After a while, He leaned in and kissed Taiki softly. Then again, deeper. His hand came up to cup Taiki’s cheek, thumb stroking his cheekbone.

Taiki blinked slowly up at him, dazed. “Wha—”

Sekai’s kisses grew more insistent, his tongue pushing into Taiki’s mouth. His hand slid down Taiki’s body, over his sticky stomach, between his legs.

Taiki flinched, oversensitive. “Sekai-san, wait—”

“Who says I’m done?” Sekai murmured, his voice thick with arousal again. He nipped at Taiki’s lower lip.

A hand on Taiki’s hip flipped him over onto his stomach. Before Taiki could protest, Sekai was behind him, spreading his cheeks. Taiki felt the blunt head of Sekai’s cock, hard again, pressing against his slick hole.

“Sekai-san, I'm—”

Sekai filled him again without pause.

Taiki buried his face in the pillow, a broken moan tearing from his throat as Sekai started to move.

➽───────────────❥

Taiki arrived forty minutes early because sleep had been impossible.

That morning, he had stared at the hotel ceiling, then stared at the note left on the pillow beside him. He then was in daze for a while because his brain had completely short-circuited. The handwriting was neat. Too neat for a man who had him pinned face-down into a mattress at three in the morning.

My apologies for leaving early. Business. — Sekai

He'd limped to the bathroom, run a shower hot enough to scald, and spent the entire train ride back home cycling through every emotion available. Guilt. Pride. Horror. A satisfaction that he kept shoving back down every time it surfaced.

Three rounds. They'd gone three rounds, and the man had barely looked tired after.

He kept replaying it. The weight of Sekai's hands. The way Sekai thrusted right into his sweet spot. The way he'd said pretty boy like it was the most natural thing.

Stop. Stop. You are at work.

He pressed his knuckles against his mouth and stared at the row of champagne flutes he was supposed to be lining up.

"You're doing that wrong," Alan said.

"I'm not doing anything wrong."

"You've been holding that same glass for four minutes." Alan tilted his head. "Also you're walking like someone tried to fold you in half."

Taiki set the glass down. "I pulled a muscle."

"Sure."

Alan looked at him for a long moment. The grin threatened to spill.

"Don't," Taiki said.

"I haven't said anything."

"You were going to."

"I was going to ask if you wanted coffee." Alan raised both hands. "You look like death, Taiki. Very pretty death, but still."

Taiki looked away and went back to the glassware. His reflection stared back at him from the mirrored shelf, hair perfect because he'd spent twenty minutes on it out of habit, eyes slightly hollow underneath.

I slept with a customer.

The thought sat in his chest heavily.

He'd been doing the job for three months now. Three months, and he'd already broken the most obvious rule: You did not sleep with customers. You flirted, you charmed, you let them imagine, and then you went home and ate convenience store rice and forgot about it. That was the job.

He'd been stupid. And the worst part was that he knew exactly where it had gone wrong—standing on that balcony, taking Sekai's glasses off his face like some kind of idiot with a death wish.

By the time the pre-opening preparations were half done, Taiki had made a decision to tell Ryuto about it.

Ryuto was in the back office, iPad in one hand and a cigarette in the other, frowning at something on the screen.

"Kazuhara-san," Taiki said from the doorway. "I need to report something."

Ryuto didn't look up. "If Alan broke another glass tower, I don't want to know."

"No." Taiki stepped inside and closed the door. He clasped his hands in front of him. "I slept with a customer."

Ryuto set the iPad down and looked at Taiki.

"Was it forced?"

"No."

"Were you paid directly for it?"

"No."

"Did it happen inside the club?"

"No."

Ryuto exhaled smoke at the ceiling. "Then officially, I heard nothing. Go line up the glasses."

Taiki's shoulders dropped half an inch.

"It was the man from VVIP Room Seven, by the way."

Ryuto paused.

"Black hair?" Ryuto asked.

"Yes."

"Always wear sunglasses?"

"Yes."

"The one who ordered the 1982 bottle and didn't look at the price tag?"

Taiki's stomach dropped. "Yes…?"

Ryuto put his cigarette down. He took off his glasses and pressed both palms flat against his face.

From somewhere outside the office, there was the sound of Alan stifling his gasp.

"Kazuhara-san?" Taiki called.

"Give me a second."

"Are you—"

"I said give me a second, Taiki."

The second stretched. Ryuto dragged his hands down his face, pulling the skin under his eyes. He looked at Taiki with mixed expression of exhaustion and disbelief.

"You slept with Yamamoto Sekai-san?"

"I—yes. Yes, that's what I've been—"

"Yamamoto Sekai-san." He said it like he was making sure of the name.

"I know it was unprofessional," Taiki started, his voice picking up speed, "and I completely understand if there are consequences. I should have maintained the boundary, I know hosts don't cross that line with customers, and I'm not making excuses, I just—if there's a fine, I can manage that, or fewer shifts, I can work around—"

"Taiki."

"—and I know it reflects badly on the club, so if you need to—"

"Taiki. That man owns the building," Ryuto's voice was very flat.

Silence.

Taiki stared at him.

"This building," Ryuto said, pointing at the floor. "The club. The security company we use. The restaurant across the street. Probably most of the businesses on the district too, if we're being thorough."

From outside the office, Alan made a noise that sounded like laugh.

"You're joking," Taiki said.

Ryuto looked at him. "Do I look rich enough to joke about Yamamoto Sekai-san?"

Taiki looked down at the floor. The floor that apparently Yamamoto Sekai owned.

"So," Taiki said slowly, "am I fired?"

Ryuto blinked. "Fired?"

"For—yes. For crossing the line with a customer. He's still—I mean, technically—"

"Fired for sleeping with the owner? You want me to call him and say, 'Yamamoto-san, please stop touching my employee'?" He shook his head. "I have rent to pay, Taiki. And I enjoy living in peace."

Alan had fully given up on being subtle. The laughter was audible through the wall now.

Taiki stood in the middle of the office and slowly realised what last night had been.

The car. The suite. The way the security had looked at Sekai, not the floor manager, when they'd removed Fujisaki. The way every person in the club had gone still when Sekai walked in.

Taiki has unknowingly slept with Yamamoto Sekai, the owner of the club and one of the most feared men in the district.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" Taiki asked.

Ryuto reached for his cigarette. "Taiki—"

"He's been requesting me for months." Taiki's voice came out harder than he meant it to. "Almost everyday. Nobody thought that was worth mentioning? Not one person thought to pull me aside and say, hey, by the way, that man who keeps asking for you specifically runs half the district?"

The door opened. Alan slipped inside and immediately wrapped an arm around Taiki's shoulders, which would have been comforting if Alan's face wasn't grinning.

"Hey, breathe."

Taiki looked at him. "You knew too. You knew the entire time."

Alan didn't say anything, but the corner of his lips twitched.

"Alan-kun, I swear to god—"

"There are rules," Ryuto interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yamamoto-san's name does not get thrown around with new hires. That is not a policy I made up to be difficult, that is how this place protects him and, more importantly, how it protects the employees. The less you know early on, the less you accidentally say the wrong thing to the wrong person outside these walls."

"So the answer was to let me be alone with him repeatedly?"

"The answer was to wait until I was sure you were staying and you knew how to keep your mouth shut. Six months, minimum." He picked his cigarette back up. "You weren't supposed to end up in his bed after three months, Taiki. That part was not in my schedule."

Alan was about to lose it.

"Look," he said, the grin finally escaping, "nobody told you because watching you talk to Yamamoto-san like he was just some handsome regular with too much money was genuinely the funniest thing I have seen in five years of working here. You complained about rich people to his face. Multiple times. I nearly bit through my own cheek."

"Alan." Ryuto's voice dropped.

"I'm just saying. You smiled at him like he was an interesting puzzle, and Yamamoto-san sat there looking like someone had handed him something he hadn't seen before." Alan squeezed Taiki's shoulder. "You have to admit it's a little funny."

"It is not funny."

"It is a little funny."

"It is genuinely not funny to me right now."

"Enough, Alan."

Alan shut up.

Ryuto exhaled. "Alan is not wrong, though." He said it like it personally pained him. "Yamamoto-san has come here for years, apparently this is one of his favorite places to unwind. And yet the hosts are always nervous. Other customers recognise him and go quiet. He's used to every person in the room adjusting their behavior the moment he walks in."

He then looked at Taiki. "You didn't. You smiled at him like he was just another difficult man. Flirted with him like he was just another customer who hadn't loosened up yet. You were… normal. I think that's the thing that got him."

The room went quiet.

Taiki stood with Alan's arm still around his shoulders and felt everything from the past months rearranged.

The way the floor had gone still when Sekai walked in. The hosts had not been competing for Sekai's attention that first night—they had been trying to make themselves invisible. The customers who never interrupted Taiki when he was sitting with Sekai. The guards who had moved on Fujisaki, then looked straight at Sekai after.

Taiki had thought Sekai was a powerful, private, slightly unreadable man who found him interesting.

Sekai was all of those things. He was also, apparently, the reason people who betrayed did not come back to this district.

➽───────────────❥

Sekai came again in the following week.

Taiki was aware of the subtle change of atmosphere for the first time. A bunch of wealthy suddenly shifted away. Some available hosts deliberately looked at the walls. Heads were dropped by a few degrees, and the voices slowed down.

To think that Taiki never really realized what this meant.

Right, Taiki thought. Right, okay.

He walked over.

"Welcome back, Sekai-san." Taiki bowed deeper than usual. "Please, this way."

Sekai looked at him for just a moment before following.

Taiki led Sekai inside the usual VVIP room, and sat down beside him at respectful distance.

Taiki poured with both hands and set the glass down gently. His back was straight. His smile was the professional one, the one he used for first-time clients.

"Your usual," Taiki said.

Sekai picked up the glass and looked at it.

"You're quiet."

"I'm being professional." Taiki kept smiling.

"You've never been professional with me before."

"I've had time to reflect on that."

Sekai set the glass down.

"I prefer you rude."

"I wasn't rude."

"You called men like me are walking tax evasion with wristwatches."

Taiki's mouth opened.

"To my face," Sekai added, calmly.

The professionalism held for exactly two more seconds before it gave up entirely.

"Well, was I wrong?"

Sekai smiled like he had won something.

Taiki exhaled through his nose and looked at the ceiling briefly. There was no performing around this man. There never had been. He'd just been too ignorant to know what he was failing to perform for.

"I can't do it," Taiki muttered. "I genuinely cannot do it."

"No."

"I tried. Give me credit for trying."

"You lasted eleven minutes."

He dropped his shoulders and reached over to grab the bottle to fill his own glass.

"You could've told me," Taiki said, normal voice now. "At any point. The second week, even."

"And miss you telling me my business model reminded you of a protection racket with better interior design?"

"I said the carpet was nice."

"Very generous of you."

Taiki leaned sideways until his shoulder rested against Sekai's and looked across the room at nothing in particular. "Kazuhara-san aged five years telling me. I could see it happening in real time. His hairline actually moved."

"Ryuto worries."

"About you?"

"About everything I'm adjacent to." Sekai lifted his glass.

Taiki propped his chin on Sekai's shoulder.

"It's annoying. Knowing. I can't unknow it. Every time someone bows at you I have to watch it happen and think about how I just—" he gestured vaguely with his glass, "—flirted at you for months like you were just some lonely businessman."

"You weren't wrong about the lonely part."

Sekai's hand settled at his waist. Palm pressed flat against his side, fingers curling on his waist.

Taiki stopped talking.

This was the first time Sekai ever touched him in the club.

The warmth of it moved up his spine anyway, and his body remembered everything. The ridiculous hotel room. The way Sekai had taken him apart like he had all the time in the world.

Then Sekai's thumb moved slowly against his waist, and Taiki's breath came out uneven.

He was scared of this man. He had spent two days being scared of what he had done. But now Sekai's hand was on him in a dark private room, and Taiki's body remembered everything.

He was attracted to Sekai. Still. Maybe worse than before.

➽───────────────❥

Taiki still had other customers. This was the arrangement, always had been. Sekai never asked for exclusivity and Taiki never offered it.

It worked cleanly most of the time. Sekai would arrive, and by then Taiki's table had usually cleared out, drunk salarymen stumbling off to karaoke. Taiki would catch Sekai's eye across the room and walk over, and that was that.

But some nights it didn't work cleanly.

There was a regular, a real estate developer named Omura who got loud and handsy after his fourth drink. Good spender, bad boundaries. On the nights Omura was in, Taiki always ran late.

"Tachi~ one more~"

"Omura-san, I have another customer waiting."

"Let him wait!" Omura grabbed Taiki's wrist. "You're more fun anyway~"

Taiki got himself free with two more minutes of flattery before he could excuse himself. He looked up and found Sekai watching from across the room.

It wasn't dramatic. Sekai never made a scene. He didn't do anything except looking at Taiki with sharp eyes and jaw tightening.

The first time Taiki noticed, he thought he'd imagined it.

The second time, he was certain.

He didn't mention it. He'd extract himself, slide into the seat beside Sekai with an apology, and Sekai would reset. Smooth and unreadable again within seconds.

But Taiki had already seen it.

It kept happening. A drunk customer who laughed and said who's going to make me when Taiki said his time was up. Another one after that who'd called Taiki back three times across the room. Each time, Taiki handled it. Each time, he looked up and saw that same expression on Sekai.

On a slow Tuesday, Taiki was halfway through a thought about shipping routes and had completely forgotten he was supposed to be entertaining.

Taiki had read something earlier that week about port congestion and import costs and couldn't leave it alone, so he had just started talking.

"The issue isn't the cost directly," Taiki said, turning his glass around in his hands. "It's that the delay uncertainty gets priced in at every step, so by the time anything reaches the consumer—"

"Taiki."

Taiki looked at him.

Sekai was already looking at him. Had been for a while, Taiki suspected.

"I don't want to see you doing this job anymore."

Taiki stared.

"I don't want you selling yourself to strangers in a room full of men who think they own you for the price of a bottle." Sekai's voice was even. "You should leave and look for a better opportunities."

The room felt strange. Taiki's brain caught up slowly, and the first thought that arrived was not a good one.

He was tired of me.

That was it, wasn't it. Some shift had happened and now Sekai was angling for an exit that sounded generous. Leave the job and find a better one. A clean ending dressed up as concern.

Taiki laughed forcefully.

"Yeah?" He leaned back. "And who pays my bills while I'm finding better?"

Sekai didn't answer.

"This is the best salary I've had. The hours are bad and some of the customers are worse, but I'm good at it and it pays." Taiki reached for the bottle. "It's my choice. And my choices are limited, Sekai-san."

He poured and set the bottle down.

"Anyway. The port congestion thing—there's actually a secondary effect on domestic freight that nobody talks about—"

Sekai was silent beside him.

➽───────────────❥

Taiki received a message from Sekai, asking if he was free for a dinner in Friday evening.

Taiki typed back yes before he thought too hard about it.

He told himself Sekai probably wanted sex. Dinner first for formality, then whatever came after. He wasn't going to dress up for it, he would most likely ended up naked anyway. He threw on his red shirt, left it mostly unbuttoned over a white tanktop, and pulled on jeans.

The building was very tall and luxurious. A staff met him at the entrance, walked him through a lobby, then pressed the penthouse button in the elevator and stepped back out before the doors closed.

The elevator opened directly into the apartment.

He stepped out and stopped walking.

The entire far wall was glass, the city spread out below. The ceilings went up high. Everything in the room screamed luxury.

Sekai was already at the dinner table, looking entirely unbothered about living in a place like this. Sleeves rolled up to his forearms, top button loose.

"You came," Sekai greeted.

"Of course." Taiki sat down.

The food was already laid out. Someone must have cooked and left.

They ate for a while, talked about everything and nothing like usual. Something Taiki had read about foreign exchange markets, an argument Sekai disagreed with and said why. Comfortable and easy. The same way it always was.

Then Sekai set his glass down.

"There's something I wanted to tell you. That's why I asked you here privately."

Taiki looked at him.

"I bought out your host contract."

Silence.

Taiki put his utensils down.

"You—" He stopped. Started again. "What does that mean?"

"It means the penalty fee for breaking your employment term has been paid. You're no longer bound to Nakameguro host club."

The words reached him one at a time. Taiki sat back in his chair and felt something cold in his spine, and it wasn't gratitude.

"So you just—You decided that. Without asking me."

"Yes. Because you would reject if I ask first."

"Because that's what you do." Taiki's chair scraped back as he stood. "You decide things. You see something you want and you reach out and pick it up because why wouldn't you, you own everything anyway—"

"Taiki—"

"Don't." He pointed, and his hand was shaking slightly. "Don't be calm right now, it's infuriating. I'm not a thing you can buy. My choices aren't yours to make. Whatever this is—" he gestured between them— "that doesn't mean you get to walk into my life and restructure it because you feel like it."

Sekai waited.

"I worked for that job. I'm good at that job. You don't get to take it because it bothers you to watch me do it."

Sekai still didn't speak.

Taiki ran out of air. He stood there, chest tight, and Sekai looked back at him without flinching.

"Are you finished?" Sekai asked.

Taiki said nothing.

"I'm not keeping you," Sekai said. "I bought out the contract so you could leave it cleanly, without penalty. What you do after that is your choice to make."

Taiki stared at him and frowned.

"You're one of the sharpest people I've met, and I've met plenty of people in my life." Sekai picked up his wine glass. "You're still young. You can be whatever you want. I'm freeing you from something that was keeping you still."

"What a very nice thing to say—"

"I also have arranged university admission with the whole tuition covered. It starts in spring if you want it. If you don't, it stays unactivated."

Something happened to Taiki's heart that he couldn't control. His throat suddenly felt dry.

University. Taiki had said it once, drunk and bitter, half-laughing at himself.

I had the grades, just not the money. He barely remembered saying it. He'd said it like a random passing comment before moving to other topics.

But apparently Sekai had noticed, and had written it down in his mind. He then acted on it months later without saying a word.

Taiki sat down slowly. His eyes were burning and he hated that completely.

A brief of silence dropped before Sekai continued, "Whatever is between us, that's a separate case. You don't have to stay. You can take everything I've just told you and never meet me again. You don't owe me anything for it."

Taiki looked up.

"I don't understand. You bought me but you don't want to do anything to me?"

"I didn't buy you."

"What the fuck is this arrangement then?" Taiki's voice came out rougher than he intended. "If it's not buying me, then what are you doing to me right now?"

Sekai looked at him for a moment. His dark eyes stared at him softly, and Taiki felt it was almost endearingly.

"I'm giving you back what was taken from you."

Taiki stared. He eventually stood up.

He didn't go anywhere specific. He just walked, because sitting wasn't an option anymore. Around the table, past the window, back again. His hands went over his face and he pressed his palms hard against his eyes.

His chest felt cracked. He'd come here tonight expecting dinner and probably sex, and that was it. That was the full extent of what he'd prepared himself for.

Not this.

Not someone reaching into the ugliest part in his life and quietly fixing it.

He pulled his hands down and stared at the ceiling.

"What the hell," he said to nobody.

Sekai watched him from the table and didn't speak.

After a while Taiki stopped. He took a long breath through his nose, and walked to Sekai. He dragged Sekai's chair a bit out from the table, making a space so that Taiki could sit down on his lap.

Sekai's hands didn't move. He waited.

Taiki's eyes were already wet and he knew it. He was crying, which was embarrassing.

Taiki glared as he pressed a finger hard into the centre of Sekai's chest.

"I hate you." His voice came out hoarse. "You know how long I've watched men like you throw money around like it's nothing? Like it's boring?"

Taiki's jaw tightened. "That amount could've changed my whole life. That amount would have. And you just—" he jabbed his fingers harder, "you treat it like a weather. Like you checked the forecast and thought, tuition, sure, why not."

Sekai said nothing.

"I watched people my age talk about their internships and their parents paying their rent. While I worked until my feet hurt, I smiled at men who didn't deserve it and they laughed when I said something smart like economic climate. You know that? People laughed." His voice broke on the last word and he hated himself for it. "Like my dream was a cute joke."

He stopped. Looked at Sekai's face.

"And then there's you. You actually listened. Like it was obvious I was worth listening to. You even argued with me about business deals prediction and told me I was right weeks later."

Taiki exhaled through his nose, unsteady. "I don't know what to do with that. Nobody does that. Rich men don't do that."

Silence hung between them.

Taiki's hand moved up and grabbed Sekai's collar.

"Part of me is still afraid of you. Your whole world. The things you don't say out loud, the way you make people disappear so easily, the way everyone looks at you. I'm not stupid. I know what you are." A short breath. "But I'm already in too deep to pretend that part cancels out the rest."

Taiki held Sekai's gaze.

"I'm staying. I'm—" Taiki felt shy, but he's determined. "I'm staying with you."

Sekai's expression shifted. His dark eyes widened, and it was the first time Taiki had ever seen something catch him genuinely off guard.

Then Sekai's arms came up and wrapped around Taiki's waist.

"Why?" Sekai's voice was quiet. "I gave you a clean exit. No obligation. You could have walked away from all of this."

"I could have," Taiki agreed.

"Then why are you still here? Knowing what I am?"

Taiki laughed once, short and wet. "Yeah, well. I'm asking myself the same thing."

"Taiki."

"I don't know! I just think the idea of not meeting you again hurts me," Taiki said honestly. "You're dangerous, yes. Weird, probably. Insane, absolutely. But I still want to be next to you. If you actually want me here."

Sekai's arms tightened.

"I want you here," he whispered.

They stared at each other for a moment. Taiki exhaled slowly, the pressure in his chest dropping a fraction.

"Actually, I'm more afraid you'll get bored of me if I stay," Taiki said, blushing a bit.

Sekai's mouth curved. His hand came up to Taiki's jaw, tilting his face gently.

"I don't get bored of things that are mine."

Taiki leaned in and kissed him. It was sharp and messy, fists bunched in Sekai’s collar. All the anger and relief mixed and came out hot.

Sekai kissed back, hands moving to Taiki’s hair, but his mouth stayed slow. Even now, he was still giving him chances to stop.

Taiki kissed him harder, bit Sekai’s lower lip just to make a point.

“You keep—mmph—acting like I’ll change my mind,” Taiki mumbled against Sekai’s mouth. “I won’t.”

“Just making sure—” Sekai started, but Taiki shut him up with another kiss.

Suddenly, Taiki broke the kiss, panting. He stood up, pushing Sekai’s lap away as he grabbed Sekai’s wrist. "Come on."

Sekai looked up, his lips wet and swollen.

"I saw a really comfortable big sofa before I reached the dinner room. I want to try it," Taiki stated, already pulling.

Sekai let himself be led, an amused chuckle escaping his lips.

The sofa was huge and cream-colored. Taiki pushed Sekai onto it, climbed up and straddled his lap before Sekai could sit properly.

He leaned down, mouth an inch from Sekai’s ear.

“You like me sitting here, Daddy?” Taiki whispered, voice low and playful.

Sekai’s head jerked back a little, eyebrows lifted. “Daddy? I'm only 38.”

“That's old.” Taiki pressed himself down, rocking against Sekai deliberately.

Sekai’s hands came up to grip Taiki’s hips. “38 is not old.”

“Maybe not for you,” Taiki teased, bending to nip Sekai’s jaw. “But I’m 21. From my perspective it’s basically ancient, Daddy.”

A chuckle rumbled in Sekai’s chest.

“You bought my contract,” Taiki whispered, grinding down again. “You’re paying for my school.” He pecked Sekai’s jaw. “You expected me not to call you Daddy?”

Sekai looked at him, unreadable for a long second. His fingers dug into Taiki’s sides.

“Careful, Taiki,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration that went straight to Taiki’s groin.

Taiki smiled, leaning forward until his mouth was a breath away from Sekai’s. "I’m starting to think you like me careless."

He closed the distance.

They kissed hungrily. Taiki arched into him, grinding harder as his nimble fingers undoing Sekai's shirt buttons. He pushed the fabric aside, revealing firm, lean muscle beneath. His palms slid over Sekai’s chest, fingers brushing over a nipple, and Sekai’s breath hitched into his mouth.

Sekai’s own hands moved. He slid off Taiki’s open shirt and tossed it aside. The tanktop went next. Soon, Taiki’s upper body was bare. Sekai’s palms smoothed over the warm skin of his waist, his ribs as Taiki shuddered.

Taiki fumbled at Sekai’s trousers, undid the button and zipper with impatient yank. Sekai helped him pull his cock out, already half-hard, thick against his stomach.

Taiki spat into his own palm, closed his fingers around Sekai’s hot length. He started stroking, twisting his wrist slowly.

Sekai groaned, tilting his head back. Then his mouth found Taiki’s neck and bit just enough to sting.

Taiki gasped, moaning softly when Sekai’s tongue lapped over that spot. Sekai sucked again while his thumbs brushed Taiki’s nipples. The sensation shot straight to his groin.

“Ngh—ah—” Taiki stuttered. He bent to kiss Sekai again, panting into his mouth.

After a few minutes, he’d gotten Sekai properly hard, the cock wet and heavy in his hand.

He lifted himself off Sekai’s lap long enough to scramble out of his own pants and underwear. He knelt back swiftly, fully naked, straddling Sekai who was still partly dressed. Taiki didn’t care. He wanted him now.

He reached behind himself to guide Sekai’s cock against his entrance.

Sekai’s hand caught his wrist gently. “I haven’t—”

“I did it myself,” Taiki cut him off. He felt heat rush up his cheeks, suddenly shy again. “Before I came over.”

Sekai stared at him, then softly laughed. “Oh…?”

"Shut up," Taiki snapped angrily, cheeks flaming. "When you invited me for dinner, I expected good food and maybe sex, okay? I didn't expect to get emotional baggage about my university dreams coming true!"

Sekai grinned. He pulled Taiki closer by the back of the neck.

“So you get all three tonight,” Sekai murmured against his mouth.

Taiki groaned, embarrassed and turned on.

He lowered himself down slowly, taking Sekai’s cock inside. He was loose, wet with lube, but the stretch still burned pleasantly.

They both breathed out.

Taiki found Sekai’s mouth and kissed him again.

Then he started moving. Up and down, slow at first, but desperate. Skin slapping together, slick with sweat.

“You feel so good,” Sekai groaned. One hand gripped Taiki's waist, steering him, while the other slid down to wrap around Taiki’s neglected cock. He pumped him in time with Taiki's motions.

"A-ah," Taiki choked out. Each downward thrust jolted through him.

"Mine. My pretty boy," Sekai murmured, stroking Taiki faster.

Something about those pet names—the possessive and the endearment—sent heat into Taiki's cock. He moaned, high and desperate.

“Fuck—Daddy—”

“Hmm?” Sekai hummed against his mouth.

Taiki rode him faster, nails digging into Sekai’s shoulders.

“Close,” Taiki gasped, moans tumbling out. “I’m coming, Daddy—”

“Come for me, baby,” Sekai said, jerking Taiki’s cock firmly.

White cum pulsed out of Taiki, splattering across Sekai’s stomach and chest. Taiki cried in pleasure.

The clenching around Sekai's cock made him last only a few more thrusts before he grunted and stilled, spilling inside Taiki, pulsing hot into him.

Taiki dropped forward onto Sekai’s chest, shuddering as hot pulses jetting inside him.

They breathed into each other’s necks for a long moment. Sekai kissed Taiki’s hair, his temple and his cheek. Gentle now.

Then Sekai shifted. He dug his hands under Taiki's thighs and stood, lifting both of them.

Taiki's legs wrapped around Sekai's waist instinctively. He clung, still impaled on Sekai’s softening cock as Sekai carried him toward the bedroom. Sekai laid him down on the enormous bed, then gently pulled out of him.

Sekai stood by the bed, looking down. He lazily stripped off his shirt, shrugged out of his trousers and briefs. Finally, he was as naked as Taiki. His lean, powerful body was pale in the lamplight, still slick with sweat.

He came back onto the bed, crawled over Taiki and kissed him again.

"You know I don't stop at one round, right?" He spoke against Taiki’s lips.

Taiki licked his lips, smirking. He wrapped his legs around Sekai’s waist, dragging him properly over himself again.

“Give it to me,” Taiki whispered, arching up against him.

➽───────────────❥

Taiki woke up to sunlight shining through the window.

He blinked at the ceiling. Everything hurt. His back, his thighs, somewhere deep in his hips. The expensive sheets felt soft against his skin, but moving slightly reminded him of last night.

Three rounds. Again. Just like in the hotel.

He was going to die. That was it. Yamamoto Sekai was going to kill him through sex and nobody would ever know the truth.

He turned his head and noticed the folder on the bedside table. A university logo on the cover. He reached over and flipped it open. Enrollment documents with his name already printed. Tuition arrangements on a separate page. A schedule of intake dates.

Everything already decided, already handled, waiting for him.

Taiki stared at it for a long moment. Then he looked toward the window.

Sekai stood with his back half-turned, dressed only in trousers, a cigarette burning between his fingers. He looked very comfortable looking at the city below him.

Taiki suddenly felt like he walked straight into a lion's den and decided to stay inside it.

He set the folder down and tried to sit up carefully.

He found Sekai's shirt crumpled on the floor and pulled it on. It swallowed him, the hem hitting mid-thigh. He rolled one sleeve, pushed himself to standing, and started crossing the room.

He made it four steps before his left leg gave out completely. He grabbed the nightstand and missed, knocked something over, stumbled sideways, and went down on one knee with a crash.

Sekai turned at the noise.

He looked at Taiki on the floor, one hand braced against the nightstand, Sekai's oversized shirt pooling around him. Then Sekai laughed.

"Don't," Taiki said.

"I haven't said anything."

"You're laughing at me."

Sekai crossed the room, crouched in front of him, and gripped his forearm to pull him up. "Can you walk?"

"I can walk fine." Taiki stood and immediately swayed.

Sekai caught him by the waist. "Mmm."

"Don't 'mmm' me."

"It's an observation."

"Stop observing me." Taiki pushed at Sekai's chest, which did nothing. "This is your fault."

"I don't recall you complaining."

Taiki opened his mouth but nothing came out, then looked away. "I hate you."

Sekai's mouth curved. He kept one steadying hand at Taiki's waist and brushed the hair out of Taiki's face with the other.

"My sugar baby is wearing my shirt on unsteady legs. Very charming."

"Shut up." Taiki glared at Sekai. "Say thank you."

"Thank you baby," Sekai murmured as he kissed Taiki's cheek, his voice warm against Taiki's skin.

Taiki's entire neck went red.

➽───────────────❥

Taiki had rehearsed the whole thing on the train ride over.

The club has been a wonderful experience. I'm grateful for the opportunity. I've decided to pursue something new. I wish everyone well.

He knocked on Ryuto's office door with the resignation letter in his hand.

"Kazuhara-san. I came today because I wanted to formally submit my resignation. I'm leaving for personal reasons. The club has been a—"

He didn't even finish one sentence when Ryuto looked up from his iPad with flat expression.

"Is this 'personal reasons' wearing a black suit and owning three blocks of this district?"

Taiki's mouth stopped working.

Ryuto set the iPad down. He took off his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose and put them back on. "Right." He leaned back in his chair. "Is he forcing you?"

"What? No—"

"Did he tell you to quit?"

"I mean, yes—"

"Did money exchange hands?"

Taiki hesitated one second too long.

Ryuto's eyes sharpened. "Did money exchange hands, Taiki?"

"It's not like that."

"Does he have a contract with you?"

"No."

"Did you sign anything?"

"No."

"Did you read anything before agreeing to it?"

"I—there wasn't anything to read, it was more of a conversation—"

"Did Alan teach you nothing?" Ryuto spread both hands flat on the desk. "I've had you for a few months. And somehow in these few months, Yamamoto-san has—" He stopped. He breathed through his nose. "Walk me through it. From the beginning. Don't leave anything out."

Taiki bit his lips.

The problem was that saying it out loud made the whole thing sound unhinged.

Well, I slept with him. Then I found out he owns the club. Then I went to his penthouse for dinner and he told me he'd already arranged my university enrollment and paid whatever penalty I'd owe for breaking my host contract early, and I said I was angry, which I was, and then I also told him I was staying, which I am.

That was not a normal sequence of events. That was the plot of some soap dramas.

Ryuto kept staring at him with tired expression.

Taiki looked at the ceiling. Then back down.

"He paid out the penalty fee for breaking the contract early, which I believe you must have received it," he said. "And he arranged school. Tuition, living costs, everything. The folder was sitting on the nightstand when I woke up, with my name already on it."

Ryuto said nothing.

"Kazuhara-san—"

The office door swung open and there was Alan pressed one hand to his chest.

"You're leaving me," he said. "For university. For a man. For the actual mafia—"

"Why are you outside my office?" Ryuto snapped.

"I care about workplace morale."

"You care about gossip."

"Gossip is workplace morale." Alan stepped fully inside and pointed at Taiki. "You. I trained you. I raised you. I polished you from a nervous baby host into a tiny beautiful menace, and now Yamamoto-san is just—" He made a wounded noise. "Stealing you."

"Alan-kun—"

"It has been only a few months, Taiki." Alan dropped into the chair beside him and grabbed his arm. "I barely got to enjoy having you. Do you know how rare it is to find a new host who can actually read a room? You're supposed to be my success story."

"I'm still going to exist," Taiki reassured him. "I'm just going to university."

"With his money."

The room went quiet.

Alan stopped his dramatic antics. He still had hold of Taiki's arm, but his face turned into concern.

"Did he buy you? Are you going to end up somewhere nice where everything looks fine until he decides he's done with you?" He looked at Taiki directly. "Do you actually want this?"

Taiki looked at his own hands.

"He told me I could leave the club, go to university, and never see him again if that was what I wanted." Taiki turned the resignation letter over in his hands. "He said the money wouldn't become debt. I wouldn't owe him anything."

Alan's grip on his arm had gone loose.

"He made it clear that the education was separate. That I should have had that chance regardless of everything else."

"And you believed him," Ryuto said.

"I think I did." Taiki exhaled. "That's the part that got me, actually. Because I fully walked in there prepared to be angry. He'd arranged my entire life without asking me first and I had every right to—" He stopped again. "But he'd left the door open. He wasn't standing in front of it."

Ryuto leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling.

"Don't confuse gratitude with love," Ryuto said. "They feel similar from the inside. Especially when someone does something nobody has ever done for you before."

Alan, for once, didn't crack a joke. "Rich men are very good at making cages look like gifts, Taiki. They don't always know they're doing it. Sometimes they think they're being generous." He tilted his head. "And sometimes they're right about that. But you're still standing inside four walls that belong to someone else."

Taiki's face went hot.

He hated this. He hated having to say it because saying it make him sound like an idiot.

Taiki said it anyway.

"I stayed because I like him."

Silence.

"Not because of the tuition," Taiki pushed on, because he knew what their faces were about to do. "Not because of gifts or other stuff. I stayed because he listened. Every time I talked, even when it was just me complaining about something, he actually listened. He remembered."

He continued. "He takes what I say seriously. He noticed I was interested in economics and the first thing he did was ask me why, not act like it was funny that a host had opinions about monetary theory." He exhaled through his nose. "Nobody does that. People look at my face and they've already decided what I am. He didn't do that."

He felt stupid saying it. He felt honest saying it, which was worse.

"I like him enough to stay. There. That's the whole thing."

Alan shrieked dramatically.

"So this is not a hostage situation," Ryuto put down his glasses. "This is worse. You're in love."

"I didn't say love."

Alan gasped. "Does he fuck you that good—"

"I-It's not about the sex!" Taiki blushed, which made it more suspicious. "I just said I like him enough for now—"

"Your ears are red," Ryuto added.

Taiki's hand went up before he could stop it. He yanked it back down. "They're not."

"They're glowing like exit signs," Alan laughed.

"I'm being practical," Taiki said, louder than he meant to. "Going back to school is a smart move. Obviously I'm going to let him pay for it if he insists on it, because I'm not an idiot and he has more money than I'll see in a lifetime. And staying with him is—it's not emotional, it's—it's just—"

Ryuto looked at him.

Alan looked at him.

"Convenient," Taiki finished.

Alan rolled his eyes. "You called a yakuza Daddy and now you're calling it convenient?"

"I didn't—h-how do you know that—"

"I don't," Alan said, his grin immediately grew wider. "but I do now."

"I—" Taiki stood up from the chair. "I'm leaving this office—"

"You're leaving this job," Alan said, standing at exactly the same time and wrapping both arms around Taiki from behind. "Which means you're leaving me. After everything. After I trained you. After I—"

"Get off me, Alan-kun—"

"Months, Taiki. I invested emotionally—"

"You invested in watching me make a disaster of myself with a man you knew owned the building—"

"I invested in both things simultaneously, those aren't mutually exclusive—"

Ryuto cleared his throat and took Taiki's letter. "Actually, I already spoke with Yamamoto-san. He came to me and discussed everything. Already signed off on his end."

Ryuto opened his desk drawer and pulled out a folder. He set it on the desk and picked up a pen. Signed something, then another thing. Then he slid it to Taiki without a word.

Taiki stared at him. "So you did know it. Then why did you make me sit here and—"

"Because I wanted to hear it from you. I needed to know this was what you wanted. Not just what he arranged." Ryuto smiled lightly. "You're always welcome here to hang out, by the way. Not as a host, but as someone we know."

Taiki almost cried realizing that Ryuto actually cared for him. He picked up the pen and signed the documents.

Alan wrapped both arms around Taiki again.

"I'm going to need updates," he said into Taiki's shoulder. "Regular ones. I want to know everything that happens. Every time he does something unhinged and romantic. Every single—"

"No—"

Taiki peeled Alan off his shoulder, and Alan let go with exaggerated grief. But underneath it, Taiki caught the genuine thing—Alan squeezing his arm once briefly, before releasing him.

Ryuto was already back to his iPad.

"Go to school," he said, without looking up. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Okay, boss," Taiki smiled.

➽───────────────❥

Taiki's locker was embarrassingly easy to clean out.

One jacket. A few spare shirts he'd forgotten about. Colognes, a crumpled pack of cigarettes with two left, some receipts he'd shoved in the back and never looked at again. He packed it all into a paper bag and stood there for a second.

He was halfway down the hall when Ryuto appeared, already holding two glasses.

"Sit down," Ryuto said.

The bar was quiet at that hour, that strange empty stretch before the club came alive. Ryuto poured without asking. Taiki sat on a stool and drank. They fell into a comfortable silence for a while.

Then Alan appeared, spotted the bottles and whistled, "Okay, so we're sending him off properly."

By six o'clock, they had somehow accumulated four open bottles and half the hosting staff.

It wasn't a planned thing. It just happened thanks to Alan, without anyone fully agreeing to it. Yusei showed up for his shift and Alan cut him off at the door before he'd even changed.

"Taiki is leaving," Alan announced. "Say goodbye."

Yusei blinked. "Right now?"

"Say goodbye."

Yusei said goodbye. Then went to change.

It happened like that six more times. Every host who came through the floor got the full announcement, Alan's hand on their shoulder, pivoting them toward Taiki.

Some of them looked confused. Some of them genuinely warm. Sota gave Taiki a handshake that turned into a brief hug. Keito tried to give him a shot, got corrected by Ryuto, then gave him the shot anyway.

Taiki sat through all of it with his paper bag on his lap, occasionally drinking and laughing. He warmly thought that he'd been here less than a year and somehow it had become something memorable.

Around seven o'clock, the air changed.

Sekai stood at the entrance in a black suit and sunglasses on, one hand in his pocket. He scanned the room once and found Taiki in about half a second.

Taiki had felt that particular atmosphere before, many times. The first few had made him nervous. Now he just exhaled through his nose, picked up his paper bag and walked over.

"Sekai-san," Taiki greeted.

Sekai tilted his head slightly and pressed a kiss to Taiki's temple without any hesitation whatsoever, in full view of everyone.

"You packed light," Sekai said.

"I didn't have much to begin with."

"We'll fix that."

Taiki's face went warm and he turned slightly to check if anyone had seen—which was pointless because everyone had seen.

Alan leaned toward Ryuto and whispered loudly, "He's really a sugar daddy."

Ryuto kicked his shin.

Sekai's attention moved to Taiki's red face. "Did they tease you?"

"No," Taiki said.

"Yes," Alan said.

"Professionally," Ryuto added.

Sekai looked amused. He then looked at Ryuto and smiled genuinely. "Thank you for looking after him."

Ryuto blinked, looking caught off guard. He somehow looked nervous being thanked. "Just doing my job, Yamamoto-san."

Then Alan, who had survived years of this industry by instinct and audacity, bravely pointed at Sekai.

"You better not make him cry."

Taiki's hand came up to cover his own face. People stopped breathing. Ryuto's soul visibly left his body.

Sekai looked at Alan for one long second.

"I don't intend to," Sekai promised.

Alan lowered his hand.

Taiki told himself the warmth inside was just the alcohol, and followed Sekai toward the door.

Outside, Taiki walked beside Sekai toward the waiting car. Sekai's hand casually found his waist and pulled him closer.

Taiki didn't say anything. Neither did Sekai.