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Shindo Ainosuke is extremely frustrated, as seems to be his default state of being. Tadashi does not understand the true reason why, assuming it’s because of the mud on his boss’s shoe that he is doing his best to wipe off with a handkerchief. They had been walking to a meeting with campaign investors—leaving the town car in a garage a few extra blocks away so they could take a stroll in the nice weather— when Ainosuke had walked into a muddy puddle without realizing. He didn’t need to do anything more than click his tongue before Tadashi had sprung into action to clean the mess.
Tadashi is his personal assistant; this behavior is part of the deal. What, is Shindo Ainosuke supposed to wipe his own shoes? He knows that technically this is what he pays Tadashi for, but he still feels some type of way watching the older man dirtying the handkerchief he had given him for his birthday with disgusting mud, which is going to get on Tadashi’s slacks if he keeps kneeling on the ground to do so, by the way.
He kicks his hand away.
“Cut it out, Tadashi. Just stand up,” he snaps. When he does, it just confirms Ainosuke’s earlier suspicions. “Now look what’s happened.”
His assistant looks down at his clothes, noting the stains on his knees. He bows his head in apology. “My apologies, sir.” Ainosuke rolls his eyes.
“And how does that help me? Can our investors see us like this?”
“No, your investors certainly cannot.” Ainosuke certainly does not appreciate the correction. “I don’t have to go inside. You’ll take the meeting, and they won’t even have to see me.”
“You would make me take this meeting by myself ?!” Ainosuke shrieks, startling the older man. “How could you? When you know I need you in there?”
“I-”
“You’ve ruined everything, Tadashi!” Ainosuke can feel himself becoming hysterical. He would never take a meeting without the presence of his beloved— and by that he means most trusted—advisor. He won’t even pick his breakfast for the day without the other’s input.
“I’ll fix it. Tell me how.”
“Take them off.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me! Take them off. Take them off right now!”
Tadashi raises his hands in defense, hoping Ainosuke will lower his voice. It isn’t like him to throw his tantrums in public, so he’s clearly upset, but it is precisely the public nature of it all that makes him hesitate. At best, he might only be cited for indecent exposure. At worst, he could rock the Shindo campaign with a scandal, and then everything really will be ruined. Hesitating as he does, ultimately he knows he has no choice but to do what Ainosuke wants. He just hopes that the shock of him actually doing it might make his boss realize his mistake, and then he’ll pull his pants back up and pretend it never happened.
When Tadashi’s belt unbuckles and his slacks are sent down to his ankles, exposing toned, slightly scarred legs, Ainosuke briefly forgets how to swallow. He coughs instead, choking out his next command.
“Like that. All the way off.” Tadashi’s stone face falls into a grimace at that, but he does what he’s told, stepping out of his slacks and gathering them up into his arms. His shirt is pretty long, but not long enough for his navy boxers to not be readily visible to anyone walking by. Truly, Tadashi could die at this moment.
“Now give those to me.”
“Yes, sir.” Tadashi complies, taking his wallet out of the back pocket at the last minute. Every natural instinct tells him that it’s wrong to hand his dirty clothes off like this, but the sooner they can end this display the better. It’s always just faster to let him have his way. Ainosuke snatches the pants and tosses them in a garbage can two feet away.
Before Tadashi can process this action enough to protest it, Ainosuke already has a hand around his wrist and is leading him into the closest clothing store.
Tadashi breaks free upon entry and hides behind the racks, pulling on the first pair of pants he finds in his size. Relief washes over him at being fully clothed again, and when he stands up straighter he can see Ainosuke already placating an employee with his credit card.
“What did you pick? Bring me the tag.” Tadashi tears it without thinking, blanching when he reads the designer label and the price. Paying Ainosuke back for this is going to hurt.
Ainosuke whistles after reading the tag himself, but hands it over anyway to be charged. While the cashier does so, Ainosuke mindlessly teases open Tadashi’s jacket. He frowns at what he sees.
“So that’s why you kept your wallet in your slacks. Go get something with an interior pocket.”
“Sir, our meeting with the investors—”
“Now, Tadashi, before we really run out of time.”
His secretary clicks his mouth shut at that, clearly annoyed but still obedient. Ainosuke inwardly smirks at the man’s attempts to appear composed and chats up the salesgirl while he waits.
“Are you able to set pieces aside,” he asks her.
“Of course. We can hold any items you are browsing today to be picked up later. We can ship pieces from our store for a small fee.”
“We’re on a tight schedule, I’m afraid. The thing is, my secretary’s wardrobe is in dire need of an upgrade. If we left his sizes with you, would someone be able to choose some pieces for us?”
The woman’s eyes light up immediately, as he expected they would. She must work on commission.
“Of course, sir. I’d be happy to curate something for you, if you’d just write down some details here. Types of pieces you’re looking for and the number, overall budget, things like that.”
Ainosuke happily scribbles out a hefty list of requests. “Keep the card we use today on file, and charge it at your discretion. My secretary has been a loyal employee of mine for several years, so a bonus is a bit overdue. That is to say I’d prefer you prioritize quality over frugality, understood?”
“A-absolutely,” she replies, eyes widening at the size of the list. “You’re a generous boss.”
Ainosuke is taken aback at the compliment. It isn’t exactly true. He squints off into the distance instead of replying, seeing Tadashi on his way to the counter wearing a new sport coat, his old jacket and the coat’s tag in hand. Black. Always plain black.
“For the love of god,” he whispers, turning quickly to the girl before Tadashi can hear, “set aside some options with patterns.”
❦
The meeting concludes with no further incident, but it ends up being crucial that Tadashi was there to provide figures Ainosuke never bothered to memorize. The investors mention celebrating their agreement over drinks, which Ainosuke is under incredible obligation to accept. Tadashi tags along as expected, refilling their glasses when appropriate and remaining silently out of the way otherwise.
“What a magnificent evening,” Ainosuke muses once the two are alone again. “We needn’t always take the car, don’t you think? It’s important that I walk my puppy twice a day.”
Tadashi flushes and casts his eyes aside at Ainosuke’s words, knowing it would be improper to admit how much he truly enjoyed them. Instead, he clears his throat and points out that in a few minutes the garage will charge them for another hour.
“So pragmatic,” Ainosuke whines. “Like money is an object to us.” Giving in anyway, he gestures ahead of him for Tadashi to take the lead to the garage, where the older man tips the valet generously.
When they make it back to the estate, Ainosuke requests that Tadashi draw a bath for him before doing anything else. Tadashi had been hoping to boil a pot of water to make himself tea, but Ainosuke’s needs must always come first. When he enters the room, he is surprised to find a rack of brand new clothes standing a few feet away from the foot of Ainosuke’s bed. He continues into the bathroom to prepare the tub.
“You’re not curious?” There’s a sense of whimsy in Ainosuke’s tone as he walks up behind Tadashi.
“It’s not my place to be curious,” he says simply as he scatters rose petals into the bath. Ainosuke mutters something under his breath. “I’m sorry, sir, what was that?”
“Nothing, Tadashi! Now please bathe yourself. You can take this robe and come out here to me when you’re done.”
“Sir?” Tadashi questions, scandalized at the thought of indulging in something as decadent as what he had prepared for Ainosuke. He’d just pulled out the dropper to add essential oils! He curses at himself as he puts it away, almost having made the mistake of wasting it on his own skin. He is used to cold showers in the bathroom of the servants’ quarters. They are not required of him, and no one else bathes that way, but it’s about discipline. It’s about keeping himself sharp.
Still… an order is an order. Tadashi steps under the waterfall shower to rinse the preliminary grime of the day off himself while the tub finishes filling. Using Ainosuke’s personal bathroom feels sacrilegious, but Tadashi accepts that it is what is being asked of him. Ainosuke usually bathes facing the door, so Tadashi lowers himself down—hissing at the sting of heat—facing the other direction so that he can imagine they are in the bath together.
If only… Tadashi smiles, thinking of an alternate universe in which he isn’t just the man’s personal assistant, but his companion. Ainosuke would be incorrigible, spreading Tadashi’s knees apart with his own before pressing his toes in a smooth glide up Tadashi’s inner thighs. Tadashi catches himself absentmindedly rubbing his pointer finger across his lower lip, and he bites down on it to reprimand himself for getting lost in such reverie. It is wrong of him to think of his boss—his master, Tadashi groans in thought to himself—in such a manner when it is not reciprocated. Frustrated, he submerges himself below the water level and blows bubbles up to the surface.
Ainosuke paces his bedroom, waiting for Tadashi to get nice and clean before his body is honored by the new clothes he has bought for him. He’d sent a housekeeper to pick up the order while they were out for drinks, and taking a cursory glance at what the salesgirl had prepared, he is pleased with the collection. He takes a pair of scissors and cuts the price tags before Tadashi can see them and refuse the gift; Ainosuke has no intention of returning a single piece. “It’s not my place to be curious,” Ainosuke mimics to himself in frustration as he throws out the tags. “As if your place isn’t always right beside me.”
The door to the bathroom opens, and Tadashi steps out in the simple black robe Ainosuke is lending him, and Ainosuke thinks to himself he should get it monogrammed with the other man’s initials. Tadashi is carrying his folded laundry, which Ainosuke takes from his hands.
“Tadashi, I want you to look at these clothes.”
“Do you need help choosing an outfit for an event? I don’t have any marked on your calendar in the near future.”
“Don’t be silly! These are for you.”
Tadashi blanches, how cute! “For me?”
“Yes,” Ainosuke nods. “From the store we were at this afternoon. Your little mishap earlier got me thinking how dreadful your old clothes are. I say old, because after tonight you needn’t wear anything else but these.” He proudly gestures to the rack.
“Sir, I wouldn’t say they are ‘dreadful.’”
“Synthetic. Fabrics. Tadashi, do you ever look at yourself!”
“But you’ve never complained about my clothing before.”
“And I wasn’t twenty-seven before either, but time passes by and things change!” It’s a ridiculous argument, so Tadashi doesn’t try to refute it. “Anyway, I was struck by the urge to spoil you, so please let me.”
“I-I don’t deserve something like that,” Tadashi stammers.
“Do you truly have no self esteem?”
“...I can if you want me to, sir.” Ainosuke snorts at that, and Tadashi quirks a small smile himself.
“Perhaps it’s my fault,” Ainosuke ruminates with an undercurrent of guilt to his tone. The wedding-turned-funeral tournament had put things into serious perspective for him, but it’s only been a few months since then, and there have been growing pains to the new normal that is developing between him and Tadashi. He can’t undo the nasty things he said; he can’t go back and forgive him while they were still boys; he can’t confess his feelings before Tadashi was employed by him. That last one is especially painful, and Ainosuke has resigned himself to knowing that there will be no romance to their relationship, because any advances made would only be harassment. “I’ve scolded you too much.”
“Never! Ainosuke-sama, please don’t say that ever again. Like you said, time passes, and things change.”
“Do you mean it, Tadashi?”
“Of course, sir. I don’t think of those times anymore, I promise. When I’m with you, I only think of what we have now. Of what we will have in the future. If you’re still holding onto any of that, and if I’m allowed to want anything when it comes to you, then I want you to forgive yourself.”
Ainosuke has been shot in the heart. He’s bleeding out on the carpet, metaphorically speaking, at Tadashi’s divine words. If he’s allowed to want anything? God, Ainosuke wishes he wanted more. He can never ask, but he can settle for this future Tadashi mentions and apparently dreams about. Ainosuke will never marry! He will live a nun’s life and devote himself to Tadashi.
Before he can cry, he pivots back to the task at hand.
“I will consider myself forgiven when you try these on, pup. Go on, pick something!” As soon as Tadashi turns back to the rack, Ainosuke hurriedly wipes his nose on his sleeve.
Tadashi moves the hangers from left to right, revealing stunning and intricate menswear that is sensible for his duties yet carries an elegance as if he were the public figure between the two of them.
Cashmere turtlenecks in navy, maroon, and black; Tadashi absentmindedly pets the sleeves as he goes through them. Merino wool sweaters for the colder months. Button downs in various fabrics: silk, linen, cotton, and even a sheer voile dress shirt that is too suggestive for the office, but allows Tadashi the fantasy of wearing it to dinner with Ainosuke on a Saturday evening where he only has to pour drinks for the two of them and not obnoxious business partners he can’t stand. The undershirts are 100 percent cotton. There are jackets ranging from blazers to sport coats, with even a casual moto jacket made from genuine leather that he could wear to S.
Then there are the suits, unbelievably exquisite suits and vests. Most are in plain colors or pinstripe, but the stand-out is a particular pinstripe with gray lines as thin as a spider’s web; instead of going all the way down, they are interrupted at various lengths—differing between columns—with a hand-stitched starburst. The pattern is subtle, matching Tadashi’s sensibilities, but with an indisputable individuality that is reminiscent of Ainosuke’s own tastes. The vests also have a personality all their own, solid in the front with various patterns on the back that would otherwise be covered. His fingers linger on a deep red brocade, admiring the texture.
Ainosuke has even provided him with accessories: scarves; gloves; silk ties in paisleys and florals; tie clips and cufflinks in precious metals; belts; delicate chain bracelets; even socks, underwear, silk pajamas, and exercise clothing. There are two new pairs of dress shoes and a nice set of sneakers. Tadashi is overwhelmed at the collection, in which Ainosuke has not left a single thing out. All of his needs when it comes to having something to wear are met in complete and utter excess. Tadashi has reason to believe this cost no less than twenty-five thousand dollars. This is not a Kikuchi’s wardrobe, but a Shindo’s. And yet, it’s all for him.
Untying the robe, Tadashi exposes himself to the garments while his modesty is still protected before Ainosuke. He slips on a pair of the new boxer briefs, then lets the robe fall from his shoulders. He can’t see Ainosuke, who is seconds away from panting.
Next are a lavender-mauve pair of socks to complement the navy pants he plans to put on next, and he fastens them with garters. Once he puts on the pants, it’s difficult to select a top; ultimately he settles on an ivory button-down, placing it over an undershirt and tucking it into the slacks.
“Let me choose the tie,” Ainosuke interrupts suddenly, unable to sit still and practically sprinting to the choices. There is, of course, a purplish-paisley option that matches the socks; whoever curated this developed a color scheme and followed it closely. Ainosuke settles it under the collar and begins to tie it, though he fumbles slightly, as usually this is done the other way around.
Tadashi feels like he’s in heaven, and he stands completely still out of worry that Ainosuke will snap out of this odd state he’s in and return to a reality where he does not feel the desire to dote on him. He can feel the warmth of Ainosuke's breath through the fabric of his shirt as his boss finishes fixing the tie, taking his time with tightening the knot up to his throat. He finishes it off with a golden clip, but doesn’t let go.
“S-sir?” Tadashi asks after a moment. Ainosuke’s eyes snap up to his, pupils slightly dilated, and he looks… embarrassed? The younger man steps back and absent-mindedly runs his hands across his pants.
“Is it to your liking?” Ainosuke’s voice is stiff. He’s acting proper. Too proper.
Tadashi doesn’t dare dream, and yet what he sees before him has him wondering if dreams really do come true. There can be no other way to interpret what is happening right now.
“Ainosuke,” Tadashi hesitantly drops the honorific. “Is this—am I— to your liking?”
Ainosuke gets as red as Adam’s costume. It’s as Tadashi suspects, and he prays Ainosuke will fess up to it.
“What I think hardly matters,” the younger man deflects, to his disappointment. “Anyway, if that’s all, I will have these sent to your room.”
“Ainosuke,” Tadashi growls. He’ll be bold if he has to be, now that he’s this close. “Don’t you dare.”
“But they’re a gift for you—”
“Are you kidding me right now? You’ve done all this, and now you’re about to send me away?”
“I-I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’re unbelievable.” Ainosuke starts to panic, unsure of why Tadashi is looking at him like this. What had been soft and reverent before now looks royally pissed off. “You don’t plan to tell me what this is really about, do you?”
Ainosuke takes a step back. Tadashi moves closer to him.
“I think I know what this is about, so why don’t you tell me?”
“Tadashi, I…I…”
“Just tell me, Ainosuke. Why are you holding back?”
“It isn’t right,” Ainosuke admits, and Tadashi couldn’t be more turned on. It isn’t right, which is what’s so fucking right about it.
“Maybe if I were just your assistant, you’d need to be careful with me, but I’m not just your assistant, am I, Ainosuke?”
Ainosuke’s breath hitches. “No, you aren’t,” he whispers.
It’s all Tadashi needs to hear, and he gets his fist around the back of Ainosuke’s jacket collar, using it to propel him forward as he walks the both of them to the bed. His hold on the jacket tightens before he tugs it off with one effortless pull. Next thing Ainosuke knows, Tadashi is gripping his shoulders to turn him around and push him back until his knees buckle against the mattress. He lets gravity take him and inches himself back to the headboard, never breaking eye contact with the older man, who scowls at how far away he is while undoing the tie Ainosuke had just done for him.
Tadashi wraps his hand around one of Ainosuke’s ankles, pulling him forward until he’s laying flat on the bed. Then Tadashi is straddling him, which feels amazing, and leaning over to loosen his tie. His pointer finger hooks under the top of Ainosuke’s collar, and in one swift, harsh motion, he brings his hand down to the patch of hair just below his navel, forcing every button until that point to give in to the pressure.
Pleased with himself, Tadashi looks down at the panting man beneath him. He rubs his hands up and across his chest, uncovering more of it from the white fabric. Ainosuke’s skin is quite flushed in comparison, and Tadashi can’t believe it’s him who’s had this effect. It just goes to show: Ainosuke may be the “Matador of Love,” but if he isn’t careful, then his bull might just run him through.
“Tell me how you want it, master,” Tadashi lets slip his own desires with his words, and Ainosuke falls further into the haze of his own lust. His Tadashi, so deferential to him, at his command yet feral when allowed to take control. Fuck, Ainosuke wants it so bad!
“You already know how I want it, don’t you, pup?” Ainosuke goes lax against the mattress, submitting to Tadashi’s whims. “I want you to tug against the leash. I want you to bite the hand that feeds you. I want—”
He can’t even finish his sentence, because Tadashi silences him with their first kiss, sweet but insistent with its pressure. He kisses him again, and again, gets messier as he smooches across his face and jaw— hooks a finger into Ainosuke’s mouth to open it so he can get his lips around his fucking tongue, and the way he suckles it deeper into his own mouth, toying with its underside, the pull of Tadashi, has him whimpering at the sensation.
When Tadashi breaks away to breathe, he’s practically slobbering over himself. Ainosuke unbuttons the new shirt to get it off him as quickly as possible before it’s ruined, and Tadashi removes it, wipes the spit from his chin with his wrist, and sheds his pants before removing the rest of their clothing.
Ainosuke pauses, considering for a second whether he should reach for the handle of his bedside drawer. He wants this to continue, but he’s nervous for Tadashi to see what’s inside and judge him. Weighing his pros and cons, he realizes he cannot miss this chance to have Tadashi right here, right now. He pulls it open to get out the lube and hopes he closes it fast enough before anything else can be seen, but one look back at Tadashi and he knows he’s caught.
“I knew it.”
“Grow up, Tadashi,” Ainosuke snaps to hide his embarrassment, making the other man laugh. “You’re telling me you don’t have one?”
Still smiling, Tadashi shakes his head no and takes the lube from Ainosuke, squeezing some out into his right hand to warm between his fingers. He rubs them together, contemplating.
“I think I’m jealous.”
“Of a toy?” A thought seems to strike Tadashi, who bites his cheek.
“I should be your toy,” he says gently, solemnly spreading Ainosuke’s legs so he can be walled in by them and gazing lovingly down at him. He kisses the top of Ainosuke’s knee and rests his cheek on it, not once breaking eye contact with his cock.
“You’re better than a toy.”
Tadashi looks up at him through his lashes. “You don’t want to own me?” Ainosuke’s heart has never felt so full.
“I already do, pet.”
Tadashi brings his fingers forward and teases around the rim. “Can I?” He asks, and pushes his index finger inside when Ainosuke nods. He fucks it in and out of Ainosuke shallowly at first; meticulous like he is with everything, he takes deep care in his preparations to loosen him up over time. While doing so, he kisses down his thigh, cradling it in his left arm. Ainosuke breathes through these moments, willing himself to stay calm but still taut like a bowstring. He startles when Tadashi reaches his cock and takes it inside his mouth. Tadashi growls around him like it’s a warning to stay still.
Sweat is building up on Ainosuke’s forehead as he’s serviced by Tadashi. “God yes,” he praises him for adding another finger. Tadashi pulls his mouth away and replaces it with his left hand, not pumping it but absentmindedly teasing his thumb up and down. Ainosuke finally relaxes into the feeling.
“Have you thought about this before?” Tadashi asks like someone who’s also been dreaming of this moment.
“All the time,” he admits, because there’s no point hiding it. Not when he’s already so vulnerable, and especially not when it inspires Tadashi to get more frenzied in his movements.
“Is this like you dreamed?”
“Not exactly,” Ainosuke answers, and Tadashi stills his hands. “To be honest, puppy, I didn’t know you had this in you.”
“No?” Tadashi starts up again, intrigued.
“I pictured you all serious, like you are at work. Fucking me with a straight face then telling me when my next meeting is.” Tadashi laughs at that, taken aback, and picks up the pace in his amusement.
“And that got you off?”
“Constantly. ”
Tadashi can’t believe his ears. Ainosuke-sama, his oldest friend, his master, his first crush, his everything, the Shindo Ainosuke has been into him this whole time, fantasizing about him even at his most dull. Right now he can’t help but grin and pour his affection into the other man, even if it goes against his normally stoic demeanor. “Next time I’ll do it that way for you.”
Ainosuke can’t think straight enough to respond, and so Tadashi decides he’s ready enough. He spreads more lube on himself and uses Ainosuke’s leg to hold steady as he enters him, massaging his calf to soothe him through the stretch. He does his best to keep a steady rhythm with his hips, but at some point Ainosuke wraps his arms and legs around him and holds him down against his chest so he can’t move, one hand in his hair and the other over his shoulder-blade, desperate to savor the feeling of him inside with no other distractions. Tadashi lets himself be held in the warmth of it, nuzzling closer to the man playing with his hair.
“Maybe you can go around wearing me,” Ainosuke says out of nowhere, and Tadashi once again can’t contain himself. He kisses along his throat between chuckles, enjoying the vibration of Ainosuke’s laughter against his lips.
It’s this that really moves him— there used to be a time when they joked around with each other, before there was bad blood between them. Tadashi is with the love of his life, but now once again with his friend: the Ainosuke who says stupid shit like this and wants him to misbehave.
Nibbling at his earlobe, Tadashi pushes back against Ainosuke’s hold and builds up a steady pace again, rocking into him as he keeps hold of his shoulders.
Ainosuke is delirious, choking out sounds but unable to form words; Tadashi can but just barely.
“Ai, Ai,” he repeats like a mantra, growling it into his ear with each thrust, gasping breaths in between. He grows desperate as they both reach their peak. “Ai, Ai, Ai!” He adores his master’s name for allowing him to call to him and confess his love at the same time, over and over and over again.
Ainosuke giggles as he comes down, not yet ready to separate from Tadashi. He looks at the clothes still on their hangers nearby and wonders if it’s too soon to clear a space in his drawers for some of them.
“Remind me to buy things for you more often,” he teases.
“No need to buy more, Sir. I still have other things to try on.”
Humming and pressing more of his kisses against Tadashi’s jaw, Shindo Ainosuke is extremely satisfied, as seems to be his new state of being. Tadashi is resting against his chest to recover from his exhaustion, hair damp mostly now from the sweat, but still carrying subtle hints of the rose bathwater. His skin is warm, and the mole under his eye stands in even greater contrast against his flushed cheeks. It matches moles Ainosuke didn't even know the other man had, in inconspicuous places along his lower back. Tadashi overflows with beauty beyond compare, somehow overlooked by others, but while Ainosuke doesn't understand how no one else seems to notice, he is grateful that it remains special for him.
“You don’t have to wear anything," he sighs, pulling Tadashi's thigh over him to hold him closer. "This works too.”