Ki @exactlywildterror - Tumblr Blog

— the need for structure, nishimura riki

pairing. nerdy architect! nishimura riki x student! reader

cw. riki is a lil nerdy here, age gap (riki 27, reader 21 HEAR ME OUT YALL—), swearing, strangers to lovers, emotionally complex characters (it's me duh), fluff, kissing, riki is genuinely a good person here (such a sweetie, or at least he tries to be), reader's not exactly nice...but cut her some slack here, sex talk and adult conversations, purity rings, some angst, yearning omg, body image, teen conformity, visual metaphors (pay close attention. or don’t, i’d love if you enjoyed it either way), callbacks, both are pretty...damaged people, oh yeah sugar daddy riki!!, explicit sexual content (cunnilingus, penetration, unprotected sex which is ironic in hindsight but she’s on contraceptives canonically so fuck it), riki has a dig bick, dirty talk, i’d like to believe riki has a lil corruption kink, sucking, scratching (neither are too much), heavy banter and very conversation-based like all of my works. MINORS DNI.

wc. 36.3k (i'm so not sorry)

synopsis: you're a broke, cynical, and pragmatic student just trying to make ends meet. downloading a sugar-dating app was supposed to be a last resort—but instead, you match with Riki, an enigmatic, put-together architect who seems to care more about your honesty than your act. caught in a push and pull of control, generosity, and vulnerability, you’re forced to confront the one thing you’ve always avoided: love. the question is—will your fear win, or will you let yourself fall into the structure he’s building around you?

author's note: hey guys!! i hope you enjoy another one of my works. i started this like mid-august (ish?? idk i don't rly feel like checking) and i literally haven't been able to think about anything else. i know most of you have been asking me for other things but i'm working at my pace. pazienza, per favore <33. but enough of other works, please let me know your thoughts on this one. i love you all to bits <333

“You must be her.”

His voice is low and smooth, carrying a calm undercurrent of confidence that cuts through the chatter in the coffee shop. He stands beside the table, close enough for you to have to crane your neck to get a look at him. Dressed in a dark blue knit sweater, sleeves casually rolled, and silver jewelry. Nothing flashy or abnormal to what men usually wear. A watch on his non-dominant hand—in this case his right wrist. A thin bracelet on the other wrist and maybe two or three rings shared between both hands. “Didn’t actually expect you to show.”

He pulls out the chair across from you and sits without waiting, his gaze drifting down for a moment—catching the faded patch on your denim messenger bag and the way your fingers fiddle with the edge of your sleeve. His smile is small but genuine, not rushed, like he’s already memorizing the moment.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be any more taken by this situation, let alone this guy. Who knew that matching—completely anonymously—on a sugar dating app on a random, lonely weekend would have you here? This guy was sexy as fuck. And while you tried to keep your jaw from touching the floor, you couldn’t help but take him in for the small time you could without him thinking you were crazy. Tall, clean, put together. His silky, shiny black hair was tousled—like he ran his hands through it all the time. But it looked good, it suited him. Silver-rimmed glasses that were perched on the edge of his nose and his moisturized plump lips. For him to be a very seemingly adult man, almost everything about him was very boyish. So charming.

“Hi,” you smiled nervously. “It’s nice to meet you.” Sticking your hand out for him to shake to which he reciprocated. His hands were soft, well-kept. And he smelled of a candle—most likely one he might have been burning in his home, pumpkin spice. But a mixture of musk that he sprayed from his cologne. “Likewise, the app…given that we couldn’t see what the other looked like…needless to say, I’m pleasantly surprised. You’re gorgeous.” He holds onto your hand a fraction longer than necessary before nodding gently—his smile mirroring that.

“Thank you, you’re…you look good too.” Clearing your throat, you let his hand go and scoot forward in your seat.

After you both ordered your beverages and pastries (which he so graciously paid for), you decided to really kick off the conversation. Riki broke off a piece of his lemon cake and asked, “I’m sorry, the app didn’t specify but I know it’s for ages twenty-one and older. But what’s your age?” You hummed as you sipped your iced coffee, contrary to the chilly weather out—you’re just a girl. “I’m twenty-one,” you verify. “You?”

“Twenty-seven,” he put a piece of the fluffy pastry in his mouth. Brows furrowing at the softness and immaculate flour. You, on the other hand, were aghast. “No way,” holding your chest as if letting it go would make your heart stop. “You look so young. What’s your secret?” Riki smiles, actually smiles, showing perfectly straight teeth. “Genetics, and no kids.” He chuckles. “I’d like to think I take good care of myself.” He tapped the table lightly, the metal from his watch clinking a bit. “So what do you do? Out of curiosity. I assume you’re a student.”

“Yessir,” you huff. “I am a student. Biology major, film and television minor.” It wasn’t that you hated college. You enjoyed the freedom and the fun and the partial responsibility you carried on your back. But over the last few months, you had been struggling immensely in the financial department and life was getting more and more difficult by the day.

Family asking what you were even planning to do with a biology and film degree. That your passions were useless. Friends wanting to go out for drinks—even though you don’t drink—and you used that as an excuse to not go. Even though you were really pinching pennies and barely even had two of those to rub together.

So downloading this sugar dating app was your last cry for help after sending emails, crying in offices, and selling half of your closet online just to not even be able to have enough for your bills anyway. Thus, right now the passions didn’t feel useless. But you knew it would take a while to be able to bear the fruits of your labor and you couldn’t wait any longer.

Riki smiled, “that’s amazing. What do you plan to do with them? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You shook your head, “no, no worries. Um…” You sipped your coffee and felt it burn coming down despite it being cold. Riki’s gaze had been doing that to you these last few minutes. “I wanna be a vet.” You nodded. “But I also wanna do screenwriting. They don’t really go together but…I love them both so…” You slowly smiled. “My heart lies with both and I…well I figured while learn something in the midst of the tens of thousands I owe, why not make it worthwhile?”

The older man laughed gently at your spirit. “I agree, doing what you love is always the best thing. That way, it doesn’t feel like work.” His well-manicured finger traced the rim of the white mug that held his hot chocolate. Steam brushing his rings just a bit.

“What about you?” He adjusted his glasses as he leaned further back into his seat, brows quirking. “Guess.” He says, folding his arms across his chest. His biceps bulge slightly against the fitted sweater. “What do you think I do for a living?” He teases, his tone light but challenging.

Something in you deflated, but in a good way. The pressure, the intensity of his gaze didn’t really make you freeze up for the moment and you allowed yourself to indulge in his playfulness. “Would you mind standing up?” He raises a brow but obliges, standing up straight. It’s almost like he got taller since he sat down. He watches you inspect him curiously, wondering what you’re thinking. “Well?” He asks after a moment, running his hand through his hair. Oh so he does do that all the time.

You laugh, “sorry, you can sit.”

He follows your command, his eyes never leaving yours. “So?” He asks, leaning forward slightly. His curiosity is piqued. “Well…” you hummed in thought. “You’re very well put together. Obviously…you have money to give and spend otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”

He nods approvingly at your observation. “That’s true.” He says, his voice low. “But what else?” He asks, eyes glinting in amusement at this little game.

You nod to him, “you’re wearing a knit sweater. Super cute by the way, where’d you get it?” Shrugging cutely as you rest your chin in your hands. Elbows planted on the table.

He laughs at your compliment, his chest shaking with mirth. “I got it at this boutique downtown.” He says, running his hand down the soft fabric. “And?” His smile remains on his face as he waits. Riki’s really enjoying this. “So…downtown is typically where gold collar workers live and/or go to shop. Don’t ask me how I know.” You wave him off with a laugh.

“Gold collar?” He chuckles, amused at your term. “Is that your way of saying I can afford nice things?” You held your hands up in defense. “Hey, all I’m saying is that broke people don’t go down there.”

He shrugs, nodding in agreement. But gestures his hand for you to keep going, his smile still present. You put your hands out, facing upward on the table. “May I see your hands?”

He unballed his fists without question, placing his hands—palms touching yours. His hands are well taken care of, no callouses or rough patches. Nails neat and trimmed. His fingers are long though, slender, sort of like him in that regard. But it was clear that appearance—either—meant everything in this line of work or he was just super into vanity. Which didn’t bug you—there was nothing wrong with a clean man. You’d prefer that. You beamed, “so I was right about gold collar.” You sighed in satisfaction. “I’m literally a genius like this shit is crazy.”

“That I don’t doubt,” He slowly pulls his hands back, briefly removing his frames to blow on them as they had fogged up. As his cheeks reddened against his fair skin. “You want a hint?” “Absolutely not, what do you take me for? I shall figure this out. This is like the Career Ladder but…in a cafe.” You snort as you look at the condensation of your iced coffee form a ring around the plastic cup. Making you put a napkin under it. “Would you consider yourself smart?”

“Without a doubt,” he answers honestly, his confidence shining through. He’s intelligent and he knows that and he’s far from afraid to admit it. But there’s something about the way you’re asking that makes him pause. Like he’s waiting for you to try to catch him in a lie or something.

“How many close friends do you have?”

He thinks about it for a moment before answering. “Not many.” He admits softly. “I have acquaintances and colleagues I trust, but actual close friends?” He shakes his head slightly. “Not many, maybe like two?” “If you don’t mind me asking, you obviously don’t have to but—have you had issues socially? Growing up?”

He hesitates before nodding slowly. “Yeah.” He says softly. “I’ve always been more comfortable with adults rather than kids my age.” He watches your reaction closely—which was an open one, a non-judgmental, safe one. “I was always the weird kid who preferred books and shapes over playground games.” He laughs softly at the memory. “I don’t think my classmates liked me very much.” Smiling knowingly, tilting your head as you look at him endearingly. “Riki, I think you’re an architect.”

Riki leans back, blinking at you like he just saw a ghost—or maybe like you just read his mind. “Wait…what gave it away?” His tone is half amused, half incredulous. You shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, I don’t know…maybe the way you answered my questions.” You tap the table lightly. “The hands—soft, meticulous, trimmed nails. Lets me know that in some way, you clearly value your appearance. But you interact with a lot of people and looks are everything. Presentation is everything. The shapes thing—tells me you love geometry or metrics. That’s like the very basic fundamentals of architecture. Preferring books over playgrounds. Even your glasses, the little way you adjust them when thinking.” You glance upward in thought. “Half of your answers told me who you were, but maybe some parts here and there were just a long shot.” Waving off as you smile.

“You’re very observant,” he sips his hot chocolate that wasn’t hot anymore—just chocolate. “Can I give you more details about what I do?”

“By all means,” smiling and nodding eagerly.

His eyes softened at your attitude—your seemingly blatant interest in him. “I…am a licensed architect. Senior. I specialize in a myriad of styles like residential and urban design.” He tapped his foot as he spoke. “But I also am in the process of starting my own firm. Aside from that, I invest in real estate, stocks, index funds—I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I just like watching money grow…I’m a…” He looks down shyly, the crimson on his cheeks making another appearance as he smiles politely. “A bit of a nerd about this stuff.” “Nerdy, yes. But…” You shrug with a smile, indifferent and in a lot of admiration. “That’s kinda hot, honestly.”

Riki freezes for a fraction of a second before chuckling softly, a low, amused sound. “Hot? I—well…thank you,” he mutters, a little caught off guard, but clearly pleased. He adjusts his glasses, running a hand through his hair again, this time slower, like he’s savoring the moment.

“Mhm,” you say softly, eye contact not breaking now that you were in control of this conversation. It wasn’t until now that you realized that you two weren’t in private anymore. And that more time had elapsed than you thought. The flame of the once bustling cafe is now dying slowly.

Riki checked the time on his watch and understood now that the cafe closes in thirty minutes. “Hey…they close in a bit. Are you done for the night or do you wanna maybe…?”

A smile spreads across your face slowly. “Keep hanging out?”

Riki’s lips curl into that small, knowing smile of his. “I like the sound of that,” he says softly, pulling a fifty dollar bill out of his pocket. “I’m just gonna put this in the tip jar and I’ll be back…” He stands with a bashful expression, turning to go to the counter.

—

You two step outside and you look at him expectantly. “So? What to do next?” Fiddling with the charms of your bag as you strolled down the bustling city square. “I was thinking about going to the park? Or you’d rather be somewhere warm?” Riki scanned you, inspecting your body language for any indication of chill—not seeing any but taking your bag off of your shoulder gently. “I got it…”

“Thank you,” smiling softly as you adjust your sweater. “Yeah, it is a bit cold for the park.” He nodded eagerly, “yeah, yeah. Okay.” Smiling and adjusting his frames as they kept slipping down his nose. “Uh…we could go to my car if you want? Like—just chill and talk there?”

You snort, “wanna get straight to business, huh?” Turning your head to look up at him to find his eyes already glued to you. “Right in the car?” Riki tilted his head, assessing the situation and giving you a nod. “Fair. But I mean…considering our arrangement, I figured we could talk about more than just me? I wanna know you too.” He clears his throat, sniffling a bit as his nose was a bit red from the chill in the air. “Only if you want to. Or if you even wanna contin—”

“I do, Riki…relax.” Placing your hand on his arm—his sculpted, firm arm that you could feel through the plush and expensive threading of his sweater. “I’m cool with it. Could help break the ice, honestly.”

He snorts, “you think there’s ice?”

“A bit,” you pinch your fingers together. Riki huffs a laugh through his nose, shaking his head. “Fair enough. Guess I need to work on my…ice-melting skills.” He blinks, kicking himself at how stupid he thought he sounded.

“Mm, you’ll get there,” you tease, bumping his arm lightly with your shoulder as the two of you weave past the thinning evening crowd. He glances at you again, lingering a moment too long before looking away. “My car’s just around the corner,” he says, tone casual but careful. “It’s warm, I promise. Heated seats and everything. Perks of…well, being me.” His grin is self-deprecating but a little smug too.

You roll your eyes with a small laugh. “So you’re saying you’re trying to flex on me with seat warmers?”

“Hey, don’t knock it 'til you try it.” he chuckles, tugging his keys from his pocket. “C’mon. I’ll even let you pick the heat setting.”

That earns him a raised brow from you. “Oh? Now that’s a dangerous offer.”

“I live dangerously,” he shoots back, deadpan, though the twitch of his lips betrays him. When he finally unlocks the sleek black car waiting at the curb, he moves ahead to open the passenger door for you—subtle, gentlemanly, not pushy. The warmth inside greets you instantly, and you sink into the plush leather seat, adjusting yourself while he slides into the driver’s side. The hum of the engine fills the space as the heater kicks in. You rub your hands together, watching him adjust his glasses again, his profile illuminated by the streetlight pouring through the windshield. He looks back at you after. Holding up your bag. “Do you want it in the back? With you? Want me to hold onto it?” “Well, aren’t you considerate?” You grinned, taking the bag from him, gently removing it from his grasp. Settling it on the floor by your feet. “Thank you.” You sigh, taken by how fast your Friday is moving. When you got up this morning, you were nearly shitting bricks at the fact that you were going to be on this venture with some random rich man that you didn’t know. To make matters all worse, he’s quite literally the hottest man you’ve had the pleasure of looking in the eye.

Nerdy, tall, dark hair…Oh Lord help you. Just your type.

But that didn’t matter, his looks were just a plus. On top of how nice he was being. He’s only ever looked at you with softness in his eyes since he sat down at the cafe and has been nothing but a gentleman. Which gives you some sort of consolation given that you expected a lot worse.

But looks and personality don’t mean shit here, you needed his fucking money.

You surveyed his car, making note of the infotainment system that spanned the entire dashboard. The leather seats still had the new smell. And the interior was such a pretty shade of brown. Very fit for the fall. “You have a nice car.”

He nodded as an acknowledgement of your compliment. “Thank you. But like I said, I wanna get to know you. As a person?” He smiles gently as he turns to face you fully.

You snorted, “as a person?” Narrowing your eyes, you shook your head at his seemingly ridiculous statement. “Wouldn’t that kinda ruin the allure? The…fantasy of this entire thing?”

Riki furrowed his brows, “why would it?”

“Because…” You shrug cavalierly. “If I’m supposed to be your…sugar baby then it’s practically my job to act. To make this a world for you.”

“That’s why I wanted to discuss this because I don’t need you to act.” He paused, gulping before he spoke. “I just want a companion…I’d rather you just be yourself.” Riki pursed his lips in thought, showing off the beauty mark on his chin. “I know that this relationship is essentially transactional but we did meet on a sugar-dating app. And…well…this is a date for me.”

You blink at him, caught off guard. “A date?”

“Yeah,” he says plainly, adjusting his glasses as if that makes the statement less vulnerable. “A date. I don’t…really go on them much. And even if I did, I don’t think I’d be this—” he gestures vaguely between the two of you, his sweater sleeve sliding down his wrist. “—comfortable.”

You swallow, your fingers fiddling with the strap of your bag at your feet. “Comfortable?”

“Mhm.” He leans against the seat, fixing his sleeves to cover his arms. “You’re easy to talk to. You don’t…look at me like I’m a wallet with legs.”

That makes you laugh, though there’s a sharp edge to it. “Well, let’s be honest, Riki. If you didn’t have a wallet, we wouldn’t be here.”

He flinches, just barely, but his smile doesn’t falter. “True. But I don’t think that’s all it is.”

You bite your lip, suddenly hyper-aware of the heater humming, the low glow of the dashboard lights reflecting in his glasses, the way the world outside the car feels so distant compared to the cocoon you’re in now. “So…you want a girlfriend? And you wanna pay me to be your girlfriend?”

Riki exhales a short laugh, running a hand through his hair like he’s trying to buy time. “Not exactly. I don’t want to…buy you.” His voice dips lower, more careful. “I want to support you. And in return, I get someone who’s actually here with me. Not an act. Not…plastic.” His eyes flicker to yours, earnest behind the glasses.

You tilt your head, studying him. “So what—you’re saying you want the illusion stripped away? No roleplay, no sugar-baby persona?”

“I’m saying,” he leans slightly closer, resting an arm casually on the center console, “that I’d rather pay for your tuition and your time—your time—than some empty performance. It matters to me that when you laugh, it’s real. That when you look at me…” His words trail off, but his meaning hangs heavy in the heated air between you.

You swallow again, your throat closing up despite yourself. Fuck, you hated the sincerity behind his eyes and this was starting to make you extremely aware of who you were as a woman. All of the things that you wanted to leave behind and being with him was almost going to force you to confront these things. Because to you, whether he admitted it or not: he wanted a girlfriend. “So…do understand that I also have a life outside of this.”

“As do I,” he nodded, face clear of doubt. “I’m not asking you to give that up. I’d rather you didn’t. I want you to…” He nodded as his eyes flitted to the side in thought. “Live like a normal twenty-one year old should.”

“Okay…” you hummed. “So this means that you’re fine with me…” you shrugged one shoulder, testing him. “Say…dating? Like, seeing other people?”

His jaw slacked just a little as it ticked. “Oh baby no,” he shook his head in finality. “I don’t share.”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth to muffle it as the other held your stomach. “What?”

“I’m a very jealous man, I’m sorry. Plus, I firmly believe that after some time with me, you’re not gonna want anyone else.” He said with full conviction, that this was the first time that he hadn’t been eager to please nor thrown by any sudden compliments that he wasn’t used to hearing.

You sit up, the first time you’d been very drawn to conversation with him the entire night. “Okay, so what exactly am I dealing with here? As far as…terms, you as a person—matter of fact, let me ask so…what type of man are you?” You met his gaze with a curious look.

“That’s a very layered question, I mean…so many different types of men have curated this.” He gestured to himself. “Like…I’ve been fortunate enough to have many men, besides my father, guide me through relationships, careers, life shit…”

“Give me a gist.” You wave off.

He stayed silent for a second, sifting through and racking his brain for things or words or moments that he’d be able to give a full image of himself on a platter for you. “Okay, as far as my character. I’m going to tell you the things that I think I am and what people have told me I am.”

“I’ve been told I’m attentive,” he starts, voice steady but soft, “patient. People say I’m…consistent. Reliable. I don’t flake. I don’t play games.” His eyes meet yours, unwavering, like he wants you to truly understand him. “I care about the people I let in. Very deeply. Sometimes too deeply.”

You nod, letting that sink in, curious now, wanting him to continue.

“I’ve also been called…intense.” He chuckles softly, a low, almost self-deprecating sound. “I can overthink, overanalyze. And I take pride in details. Whether it’s work, or life, or relationships. I…expect honesty. Directness. And I give the same in return.”

“Okay…” you rest your cheek on your fist, giving him your undivided attention.

“But I’d like to think that I’m careful, I can be very stubborn. Like once my mind is set on that then I will not budge because at that point I’ve weighed every possible outcome before making a decision. I’ve trusted my gut everyday up until this point and I’m in an amazing position in my life. And I take that very seriously.” He says firmly. “But I’m working on not being that way…I just trust myself so much that it comes hard to believe other people when they tell me literally anything. Career-wise, usually.”

You blink at him, impressed despite yourself. “Wow…" you murmur, a mix of admiration and wariness in your tone. “Like…that's exhausting just listening to you explain that.”

He laughs softly, a quiet, almost shy sound that doesn’t match his confident demeanor. “It’s…how I operate. I can’t help it. But that doesn’t mean I expect you to be the same way.” His eyes soften, scanning your face. “I just…wanted you to know what you’re dealing with. Not to scare you.”

You tilt your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Not scared…just…aware. That’s a lot to unpack.”

He nods slowly, letting the pause linger. “I know. And I’m not asking for a decision right now. I just want you to know…if you’re in, I’m all in too. I don’t do things halfway. With work, with people, or…with you in this case. I take you seriously as long as you give me that in return.”

Something in your chest tightens at his words. It’s bold, almost reckless, and a little intoxicating. You shift slightly in your seat, the heater hum low and warm, the car a tiny world of its own. “You make it hard not to be intrigued,” you whisper, voice softer than intended.

Riki leans back into the seat, just enough to gauge your reaction. Even more so to make the tension tangible. “What about you?”

“Um…hmm…” You huffed. “Also a lot to say…but I’d say that I’m a little cynical. Bitter. Very pragmatic, especially in this…” You gesture between you two, “Not saying I’m not a believer—”

“It’s just not something that’s normal for this circumstance—I get it.”

“Yeah…but besides that I’d say that I’ve been told I’m loyal. Honest as well—this goes on my end too—I don’t see a reason to lie to anyone unless they’d have some sort of power or prove to be a risk to my life.”

“When I’m comfortable, I can be a very affectionate person. Verbally and physically—but I usually do like…acts of service because that doesn’t always involve either.” You laugh softly toward the end, a tinge of self-deprecation in there somewhere. But Riki doesn’t laugh. He watches. And listens. Attentively.

“But fuck…Riki I can be mean. Very mean and I hate that about me. I don’t like it.

Riki’s gaze softens even further, his jaw loosening as he leans slightly forward. “Mean?” he echoes quietly, curiosity and concern threading his tone. “How…mean are we talking?”

“Since we’re being honest here…I’m a very sensitive person and…this sounds crazy…walk with me…” You hold up your hand before he can say anything or judge you but he dismisses with an encouraging nod. “When I love someone and something they say or do upsets me or even rubs me the wrong way…I just retract. It makes me pull back because in some way…I see that person saying that hurtful thing as rejection. And when I love someone, I see them as perfect. Even through all the flaws—they’re still perfect and can do no wrong in my eyes. So to have a moment of hurt tied to someone I think is just my everything…makes me not even want to be around them.”

Riki stares at you for a long beat, his brows knitting ever so slightly, like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle only you could give him. His voice comes quiet, low, but steady. “That…doesn’t sound crazy to me at all.”

You blink, caught off guard. “It doesn’t?”

He shakes his head, slow and deliberate. “No. It sounds…human. Sensitive, yeah—but also honest. You love hard. And when you do, you hold people so high that the fall from grace feels catastrophic.” He exhales, almost like he’s talking himself through the thought. “That kind of love…it’s rare. It’s scary as hell but it’s rare.”

Your throat tightens at his words, because you weren’t expecting him to get it. Most people just called you dramatic. Too much. Too emotional. You look down at your lap, fiddling again with the strap of your bag, voice softer now. “It doesn’t feel rare when it’s happening. It just feels…like I suffocate people. Or worse, like I set them up to fail.”

Riki’s lips twitch into the smallest smile—not mocking, but almost tender. “Maybe. Or maybe you just haven’t found someone who can stand in that kind of fire without flinching.” His eyes flicker to yours, unwavering. “Don’t mistake intensity for weakness. You’re not broken for feeling that way.”

Something in your chest aches at that—like he’s reaching for a part of you you usually keep padlocked. You let out a weak laugh, but it’s laced with disbelief. “You make it sound like it’s some…gift. Like it’s noble or something.”

“It is,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He leans back slightly, gaze still locked on you. “Take it from me, love is terrifying. Absolutely scary. But the great thing about this…” he gestured around the car. “...Is that we aren’t there yet. Not even a fourth of the way there yet. I can’t promise that I won’t piss you off because we are going to get mad at one another. That will happen. But I can promise now that if you wanna do this, that I got you.” He folded his hands over his stomach—mainly as a way to keep from reaching to touch you.

“You got me?” You ask skeptically.

“Mhm. Financially, you don’t have to worry yourself about whatever it is you worry about. Bills, paid. I’ll be giving you a monthly allowance of…literally anything. Name your price.” He nods to you.

You gulp, this was actually becoming real. And now you were faced with a decision: name your actual price—meaning you factor in the things you truly have been wanting. Or play it safe, be respectful after you two just shared that little heart-to-heart. You did feel like it was fine that you were only here for the money, because you were. But it got hard to take advantage of him when he had just told you how hard he loved and that was going to give you his all. Whether this turned out the way he wanted it to be or not.

So you chose the latter. “I’m good with two-thousand a month.”

He physically drew back, face screwed up almost comically—partially in disgust. “Two—dude that’s someone’s rent money. I’m not giv—are you trying to insult me?”

Your jaw drops. “Insult you?” You lean forward, laughing in disbelief. “Riki, I just asked for what is literally life-changing money for me and you’re acting like I offered you a coupon to Olive Garden.”

He squints at you like you’ve grown three heads. “Two thousand? A month? Babe, that’s…that’s cute. That’s adorable. I said name your price, not…lowball yourself.”

You snort, trying to cover the flush creeping up your neck. “Excuse me for not immediately asking Daddy Warbucks for ten bands just for existing.”

“I’d respect you more if you did,” he shoots back, smirking now. “You don’t even know what ‘reasonable’ is in my world. You saying two grand is like me handing you a Starbucks gift card and calling it a salary.”

Your mouth hangs open, a laugh escaping despite yourself. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re undervaluing yourself,” he says smoothly, no hesitation, like it’s not just about money anymore. His gaze is steady, almost challenging. “So try again.”

The air in the car goes still. You can feel his eyes daring you—pushing you past your own hesitation, the little voice in your head that tells you to play small.

“…Okay,” you say slowly, biting your lip, letting a mischievous smile curl on your face. “What if I said five?”

He tilts his head, lips twitching. “Getting warmer. Still very cold though.”

“Seven?”

His smile widens, like a predator humored. “Closer.”

Your brows fly up. “You’re crazy.”

“No,” he says, leaning forward now, elbows resting on his knees. “I’m serious. You’re worth more than scraps, sweetheart. So stop testing me and tell me what you really want.”

“Fifteen.”

He squinted, nose scrunching. “Still warm.”

“Bro,” you snorted. “Fine, twenty-five.”

“Thirty and we have a deal.”

The air goes quiet again, heavy, but not suffocating. You feel your pulse thrum in your ears as you shift in your seat. There’s something dangerous about the way he says it, not just the money but the conviction behind it. Like he’s not just negotiating an allowance—he’s staking a claim.

“…So that’s it? Thirty or nothing?” you ask, lips quirking, trying to lighten it.

“Thirty or nothing,” he echoes, his grin widening, teeth flashing like he just checkmated you. “So what’s it gonna be?”

“This is my money?”

He nodded obviously, “your money.”

“And I don’t have to use it on anything but what I want to use it on? Not bills, not anything catered toward livelihood and responsibility?”

“Not a dime.” He shook his head. “I have that handled. Any necessities like…bills, nails, hair, clothes I’ll be paying for.”

“Nails and hair? That’s like—”

He shook his head until you shut up. “A lady doesn’t pay for hair or nails, that shouldn’t have to come out of your allowance. That thirty-thousand is for anything you want. You could save it, invest it, spend it on makeup—if you do wear it often then I’ll pay for that too but—anything you see that you want that I’m not around to purchase…you use your allowance.”

You stare at him, part of you waiting for the punchline, but he doesn’t blink. Doesn’t budge. You shift again, suddenly aware of how small the car feels, how close he is. “You’re basically bribing me into liking you.”

“No,” he corrects smoothly, leaning in just a fraction. “I’m making sure you never confuse survival with choice. If you’re here with me, I want it to be because you want to. Not because you’re stuck worrying about bills, or tuition, or groceries. Freedom looks good on people.” His eyes catch yours, holding them steady. “I want it on you.”

The silence that follows is deafening, your chest tight, your mouth dry. For once, you don’t have a quick comeback. Just the dangerous, dizzying realization that maybe—just maybe—he’s dead serious about all of this.

“Deal.”

—

Riki pulls into the parking lot of your apartment building. It wasn’t much. Just a brick building, streetlights, and the occasional raccoon. But it was good for short notice, a ten minute walk from campus, and the rent wasn’t totally crushing.

The wind sang and sent a brisk reminder of the impending weather—the rain that was forecasted. So you turned to the man beside you, who was already looking at you with the kind eyes he always did. “This you?”

“Yessir,” you nodded awkwardly. “I mean I did direct you here didn’t I?” Smiling in humor.

He laughed softly, “you did, in fact.” Adjusting his glasses, he asked, “so…when can I see you again?” Clearing his throat as his Adam’s apple bobbed and he bit his lip to suppress a smile.

You blink at him, caught off guard by how…boyish that question sounds coming from a man who just offered you thirty-grand like it was gas money.

“When can you—” you huff out a little laugh, shaking your head. “Riki, you just negotiated my entire future in your car and now you’re asking me out like a high schooler.”

He grins sheepishly, running a hand over his jaw. “I like a little balance.” His eyes glint under the streetlight, warm and steady. “So…when?”

You look down at your hands in your lap, chewing your lip. The easy answer would be never again—keep the distance, keep the power in your court. But then you remember the way he spoke in the car, all conviction and care, like he wasn’t just talking to you but making vows no one asked for. And a part of you felt like you owed it to him. Even though you really didn’t owe him a damn thing. But he was so kind, so gentle with you that you couldn’t dare to turn him down. Despite the jaded part of you that wanted to eat him for lunch.

“You know what…you can come get me after class on—wait what days are you like, off from work? Or like when do you get off?” You paused, holding both hands and making a seesaw, scale-esque motion—indicating your attempt at fairness.

Riki’s mouth curved at that, not just a smile but the kind that told you he was quietly cataloguing every detail of how you just asked him—your hands miming scales, your voice trying to sound casual but betraying your nerves.

“I’m flexible,” he said smoothly, but then tilted his head like he couldn’t resist teasing you. “But if you’re asking about my ‘office hours’…I’m usually done around five. Fridays are lighter. Weekends…” His brows lifted, gaze steady on you. “…I’ll move things around if it means seeing you.”

You blink at him, caught between flattered and overwhelmed. “You make it sound like scheduling the Pope.”

He chuckled, low and warm, leaning back against the headrest. “Maybe. But unlike the Pope, I’ll actually show up.”

That earned a soft laugh out of you despite yourself. “Okay, Mister Reliable. But I figure that…I want to further break the ice and…cook for you.” You nod, soft smile still there. “I love to cook for people and this is like…a love lan—” You paused. “A way to show I care.”

He notes your slip but doesn’t say anything. Just nodding and running a hand through his hair. “I’ll send extra money for groceries—matter of fact, just tell me what you need to get and—”

You shake your head. “No, it’s a surprise. I’ll get it myself.”

He snorts, feeling his face heat up and grateful for the moonlight that you don’t see it. “Okay, well I’m sure Blue will be happy to meet you.”

You draw back, “I thought you said you had no girlfriends or kids.”

“I never said I didn’t have any fur kids.” He snickers. “I have a best friend, his name is Blue. He is my dog.” Riki says clearly.

Your jaw drops, half-relieved and half-exasperated. “Riki, you cannot just—” you swat his arm with a laugh. “I’m thinking you had a girl or baby or something like…”

“Nah. But I will tell you not to be worried. Blue is very friendly. You’re not afraid of dogs are you?” He frowns. “Because I can put him away before you arrive.”

You shake your head quickly, still laughing. “No, no—I love dogs. I just…you know, wasn’t expecting you to casually introduce me to a fur kid mid-conversation.”

Riki smirks, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Casual is my specialty. But Blue will like you, I promise. He’s a good judge of character.” He glances at you, teasing in his tone. “Plus, I kind of want him to approve before you get too comfortable with me.”

You shake your head with furrowed brows. “I feel that. Dogs are very good judge of character.” You paused again, bouncing your leg now. “So…does Tuesday at six sound good?”

Riki’s smirk slowly turns to a wide smile, pleased with you at the moment. “Mhm, perfect. But do know that this is the last planning you will be doing.”

“Glad to know we’re on the same page, partner.” You grabbed your bag in preparation to leave and before you could even touch the handle—Riki was already out and on your side of the vehicle. Opening the door for you and subsequently helping you out.

You got a whiff of that musk again, the pumpkin spice. But overall, he just smelled clean. Sounds crazy but all rich people sort of have the same smell, maybe smelling like money is a thing.

“It was wonderful meeting you. And I can’t wait to see where this goes.” Riki slowly brings your hand to his lips, kissing the back of your hand without letting go of your gaze.

You catch your breath at the sudden tenderness, your fingers tingling from the warmth of his lips. “Yeah…me too,” you murmur, voice a little softer than you intended.

Riki gives your hand a final squeeze before letting go, letting it drop slowly to your side. “I’ll text you later tonight,” he says, the smile on his face easy, unforced. “We’ll set up that cooking thing. Blue will be ready for his first inspection.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”

“Consider it…training,” he quips, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You pass, you stay. You fail…” He makes the air between you feel electric. “You’re still probably safe, but I'll never let you live it down.”

You grin, stepping back and tucking your bag over your shoulder. “You're already the worst, like seriously.”

He watches you for a beat longer, like memorizing the way you move, before finally nodding and heading back to his car. You can’t help but feel a little flutter—half nerves, half excitement—thinking about the strange, unexpected little world you’ve just stepped into.

—

As soon as you opened your front door, your phone buzzed:

Riki Nishimura transferred $5,500 to your checking account ending in (...XXXX)

Note: Advance + groceries for dinner <3

Since when did you need five-thousand dollars for groceries? Were you tripping? Did you both not agree to your allowance just being thirty-thousand? Plus, you and him didn’t even really get to work things out yet.

You stand in the middle of your apartment, the door still halfway open, staring at your phone like it’s grown horns.

“Five thousand?” you whisper to yourself, blinking hard as if that’ll make the number shrink. Nope. Still there. Your bank app is suddenly glowing like the gates of heaven. This is the most you’ve seen in it since you got it in high school.

Closing the door with your hip, you set your bag down and flop onto the couch, scrolling back up to double-check the transaction. 'Advance + groceries for dinner <3.'

You snort, tossing your phone onto the cushion beside you. “Since when does Whole Foods charge five grand for groceries, Riki?”

The worst part? Your stomach does a nervous flip—not from guilt, but from how easily he just…did that. No hesitation, no warning, like dropping a casual tip. He had called thirty thousand “reasonable,” and now he’s giving you this money like spare change. It seemed surreal even though this was all of what you wanted.

Your phone buzzes again.

Riki: Don’t freak out. Just something to get you started. :)

—

Tuesday came by faster than you knew and by the time Riki had made it to your house for the scheduled time, you were already on your way out the door.

With two grocery bags in hand—reusable plastic bags because we care about the environment—you exited through the front entrance of your redbrick building. Scanned the block for the black vehicle you saw—not being able to find it through the sea of cars that were parked along the street but a beep was enough to draw your attention.

Pulling the car a little further up in front of you, Riki climbed out and hurriedly made his way toward you. “Hi, how are you?” His smile was the same as always: dazzling. But warm, and kind on the soul. “Sorry, I couldn’t remember which building was yours but I got the general area.” He gently removed the bags from your grasp and held his arm for you to grab.

“No, it’s okay.” You linked your arm with his. “The street can be a bit confusing. But I’ve been doing a lot better these last few days.” You looked up at him though he wasn’t facing you and was helping you down the steep sidewalk.

He did perk up at the admission, though. “That’s great, my love. What made them so good?” He opened his backseat after you let him go. Setting the bags on the floor so they can fit snuggly, careful not to tip them over during any turns.

You shrug, “I may have had something to look forward to.” Smiling at your cheesiness as you saw him give you his attention now that the two of you were face-to-face. “Y’know? Seeing you?”

The older man laughed softly. “You like me already?” He edged closer to you as he gently pulled you in for a hug, rubbing your back in a way that wasn’t just friendly. But secure. That in this neighborhood that was so rough around the edges, you were safe and nothing could touch you.

“You’re alright, I guess.” You smirk, jabbing at him a little. “Don’t go getting a big head now.” Pulling back as you took another whiff of the cologne he wore today. Softer, a bit more perfume-esque. Soft linen. He reminded you a lot of you. Signature scents are cool but sometimes you might want to just catch a vibe with a fragrance.

He opens your door, “Call me Megamind then.” He sings-songs as watches you enter, ensuring your seatbelt is on before he makes his way to the driver’s side before pulling off.

You two chit-chat for a few minutes before you inquire. “Wait, I thought you lived downtown?” Brows furrowed, you looked at your surroundings—seeing that he was passing by the city square that was just by the lower area that you spoke of.

“No, you assumed I lived there because that was where I chose to shop for that sweater I wore one time!” He laughed, his hand finding yours while he drove with one hand.

Caught off guard by the gesture but still pleased, you smiled as you reciprocated the affection. Squeezing his hand tightly, “I’m sorry!”

He glances at you briefly, smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t apologize. I like hearing what you assume about me. Helps me see how you…picture me.”

You huff a laugh, shaking your head. “Well, in my head, you live in some glass high-rise with a skyline view, a wine cooler, and like…a bathtub that could fit six people.”

Riki’s laugh bursts out of him, low and surprised. “A wine cooler? That’s the detail you’re sticking with?”

“You just give me that vibe.” you shoot back, grinning as you turn to face him more. “And one of those weird coffee table books that’s just pictures of architecture no one reads but it makes you look cultured.”

His fingers squeeze yours as he shakes his head, chuckling. “Damn, you got me pegged. I do have the cooler, and…” he pauses, glances at you with a mischievous spark in his eyes. “…there is a coffee table book.”

Your mouth drops. “I knew it!” You laugh, smacking the back of his hand playfully before realizing—you’re still holding it. Which makes the whole gesture softer somehow, not just teasing but intimate. “So you’d get pegged?”

Riki’s eyes widened as he turned to glance at you briefly. “Young lady, where did you learn such language?! And it’s a figure of speech!” He snorted, suppressing a laugh as he turned onto the expressway—the air feeling lighter now as he scolded you in jest.

You laughed, genuinely laughed as the sound permeated the vehicle and it took you a minute to gather yourself. Riki reciprocated as he squeezed your hand. What you said wasn’t that funny, not really. But your laugh—as obnoxious and mildly ugly as it was—brought joy to him. For once, he felt warm. Comfortable. That the search for companionship that he’d be seeking for the last few years was paying off well. His smile softened as watched you cool down.

“C’mon, you’re twenty-seven. Six years my senior, it’s not like you haven’t been around the block.”

Riki side-eyed you, lips twitching as he bit back another laugh. “First of all—disrespectful. Second of all, just because I’ve been around the block doesn’t mean I’ve been in every alleyway, genius.”

You smirk, tilting your head at him. “So you’re admitting you’ve at least peeked down a few alleys.”

“See, this is what I get for holding your hand,” he muttered, though his thumb absentmindedly brushed over your knuckles like he had no intention of letting go. “I try to be sweet and you turn it into something completely…perverted.”

You grin, leaning into your seat, smug. “Don't act like you don't like it.”

His laugh was low, the kind that warmed the air in the car. “Maybe I do.” He shrugged one shoulder, letting the silence and white noise of the cars speeding down the road fill the car.

You broke it though because you talk too damn much. “So, where do you live? Where’s Casa di Riki?”

Riki just dignified your silliness with a smile, “From you, I live about twenty minutes out. Just one town over. Very suburban.” He nods slowly as he merges into a new lane.

“The city too much for you?” Leaning back into the leather seats, you crossed your legs as you reapplied your lip gloss. Pulling down the overhead mirror. Oh what would the world be without lip gloss?

He shook his head as if you were minding what he was doing. “Yes and no? I love cities but I just kinda prefer something a little more peaceful. I’m very particular about my quiet and where I live it’s so peaceful. There’s a lake nearby, nice neighbors, nice community.” He hummed, “plus I spent so long with my home and renovations and essentially building it from the ground up that I’d die before I’d give it up.”

“Yes, I forgot you were an architect. You said...residential and urban design?” You said as best you could without getting gloss on your teeth.

Riki’s heart warmed at your attentiveness. “Aww…you remembered.” He brought your joined hands to his lips.

The gesture made you freeze for half a second, the brush of his mouth against your knuckles so casual yet deliberate it sent a little current through your chest. He didn’t make a show of it—just pressed the kiss like it was second nature, eyes still on the road, thumb smoothing over your skin like he’d done it a thousand times before.

“Don’t ‘aww’ me,” you finally managed, snapping the mirror closed and giving him a side-eye to hide the fact your pulse was going nuts. “It’s not like you’re forgettable.”

That earned you one of his sideways grins, slow and sharp like he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you. “Careful. Keep talking like that and I’ll start to think you actually like me.”

You scoffed, tugging your hand but he only tightened his grip. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just remember things. I’m observant. And actually listen when people speak to me.”

He scoffed playfully, “yeah, yeah,” brushing you off with a smile. “Whatever you say,”

You smiled softly, “so…what made you wanna really move to the ‘burbs? Old age? Can’t keep up anymore…”

Riki laughed loudly. “Dude, you have one more time to joke about my age.”

You grinned wide, proud of yourself for getting that rise out of him. “What, I’m just saying…you’re like one more sweater from being a retired PTA dad.”

His laugh was so loud it bounced around the car, head shaking as he looked at you like you were ridiculous—but adorable anyway. “PTA dad? Really?”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” you shot back, eyebrows raised, lips tugging into a smirk. “Suburbs, lake house, dog named Blue… all you’re missing is the khaki shorts and Asics.”

“Oh my God.” He leaned against the headrest, groaning dramatically but smiling so big you caught it in the reflection of the window. “I am not buying dad shoes. Ever.”

You giggled, leaning back smugly. “We’ll see. It starts with the suburbs. Next thing you know you’re grilling in socks and sandals, calling the neighbors ‘buddy.’”

“I already do the buddy thing…” He sighs as he turns to head onto the highway exit.

“See?”

—

Pulling up to Riki’s house was something that put a bigger knot in your stomach than you'd like to admit. Something haunted your every thought before bed as you wondered and fantasized about the glamor and galore of what was to be behind or around his home.

You expected glass, marble, ceramics, maybe even some technology here and there. But at least for the exterior you had some thoughts.

A dramatic sixty-floor high-rise building where he had the penthouse and butlers and again, the glass, the marble. Maybe even the firm couches that just hurt your ass by just looking at them. And even somehow maybe it would be all gray and black. Not sure why you thought that, you just assumed every eligible bachelor would just go that route.

Or if not that, then some humongous mansion with a fountain in the driveway, a gate that needed a code, and enough empty space to echo when you coughed. You imagined chandeliers bigger than your bedroom and rooms so wide they felt like they were built for ghosts.

But pulling up to Riki’s place? It was…none of that.

The car rolled to a slow stop in front of a house that didn’t scream money but whispered it—subtle, tucked behind a row of trees that framed the driveway. It was large, yes, but not ostentatious. Classical stone with warm wood trimming, glass where it counted but not so much it felt like a fishbowl. You spotted planters by the steps—actual thriving greenery that someone clearly tended to, not just thrown there for aesthetic.

The porch light flicked on automatically, casting a glow across the driveway like the house was greeting him. Greeting you. It wasn’t a mansion. It wasn’t a skyscraper. It looked like a home.

Your lips parted before you could catch yourself. “Oh…” you breathed, leaning forward a little in your seat as if that would let you take in more. “This is…not what I pictured.”

Riki smirked as he parked, clearly amused by your awe. “What did you picture?”

You hesitated, embarrassed to admit it, but your face gave you away anyway.

“Penthouse?” he guessed. “Marble floors, glass walls, some ridiculous colorless bachelor pad with a sectional couch and a fridge that only has water bottles?”

You snapped your fingers, laughing. “Exactly that! Wait—do you have the fridge, though?”

He chuckled, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Of course I do. But I actually keep food in mine.”

Even the neighborhood itself was just as he said: peaceful. Nothing about this place exuded poor, that’s for sure. But it was humble, homely, and not kitschy at all. Without even meeting his neighbors you could tell that Riki fit in with them just fine. That they all worked within similar fields of public service. Teachers, doctors, physicians, dentists, surgeons, psychologists, architects, engineers. The people that live here are the people that do good. That matter. That the world can’t spin without and even then, you couldn’t blame Riki. This is the type of place people dream of retiring at. Where they have neighborhood watch groups, community pool hangouts, kids hanging out and playing in the street. Families and people here live in harmony and it only fueled more inside of you that you couldn’t believe you got lucky with Riki by this point.

He had opened your door and helped you out. Then grabbed your groceries as he fumbled his link of keys. He didn’t have many. Just the car key, home, maybe office, what you’d assume to be a key card/ID for his firm, then a cute key chain with a photo in it that you couldn’t see from here and never thought to mind. Most likely him and Blue. “Can’t wait to see what you make.”

You smiled, “I’m actually excited too, can you handle spice? I should’ve asked before. But I won’t make it—” You followed him up the porch as he clicked his car locked and already had his house key ready.

“I’m good with spice, it’s okay.” He pushed the door open with his shoulder and held it for you, letting you step in first. The moment you crossed the threshold, you froze—not because it was over the top, but because it was so…him.

Warm wood floors stretched through the entryway, and the first thing you noticed wasn’t furniture or fancy tech but the way the house smelled. Not sterile, not overly perfumed, but lived-in. A mix of pumpkin spice, laundry fresh, and faint dog. The kind of scent that told you someone cared about their space but didn’t obsess over making it look like a showroom.

To the left, you saw a built-in, recessed bookshelf that went from floor to the high ceiling, stacked not only with architecture journals but—much to your delight—comic books, random novels, and even a few cookbooks. A big potted plant stood proudly next to it, thriving like it was his favorite child.

The space was cozy but expansive, like when crafted this, he wanted space but not so much to where it’d make the home feel empty or like filler. The windows were just like the bookshelf—floor to ceiling and it truly did open home up. He must love natural light, as did you. Throw blankets on the couch, colors that fit the season of autumn: brown, gray, some hints of color but everything about this home was perfect.

You couldn’t stop your mouth from curving into a slow smile as your eyes flicked around, cataloguing every little detail. It wasn’t some cold showroom house—it was layered, personal. It felt like Riki.

“This is…” you started, but words failed you, so you just turned to him with that wide-eyed look that made him chuckle under his breath.

He kicked his shoes off neatly by the door, balancing the grocery bags in one hand like it was second nature. “Not the marble-glass bachelor pad you imagined?”

“Not at all,” you admitted, stepping carefully onto the wood floors like you didn’t want to scuff them even though they were clearly meant to be lived on. “It’s—warm. Homey. Like, I could actually sit here and not feel like I’m messing up the aesthetic.”

“That’s kind of the point,” he said simply, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal that he’d curated a house that felt like…well, him.

You were about to ask him something else when a sharp click-clack of nails on wood echoed down the hallway. Before you could process, a blur of fur bounded toward you, tail wagging like a metronome gone haywire.

“Oh my god—” you gasped, dropping into a half crouch as Blue came skidding to a stop in front of you. A big, elegant dog—golden fur, big brown eyes, and open mouth that indicated what you hoped to be a smile. But you weren’t new to this—you stuck your hand out. Waiting for Blue to accept you before you scared him and reached over his head.

You side-eyed Riki as he looked between you both expectantly. This was the moment of truth.

And before you knew it, you were nearly being taken down by an animal that didn’t know his size. “Oh hi, baby! Hi!” You cooed as you ruffled his fur and removed your shoes. Riki swiftly moved them to the rack as he watched you both.

Blue was in your lap at this point and you had to dodge his licks everywhere you could. But this only meant to him that you wanted to play, so where you stood up and ran further into the house, past the foyer. Which only gave Blue permission to chase after you—claws skidding across the wooden floor as he chased after you.

“Hey, no playing in the house.” Riki groaned as he smothered a smile, bringing the groceries to the kitchen. Placing them on the island.

You darted around the couch, laughing so hard you could barely breathe, Blue hot on your heels like this was the best day of his life. “He started it!” you called back, half-yelp, half-giggle as the dog lunged for your arm with harmless excitement.

Riki leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching the chaos unfold like some sitcom dad resigned to his fate. “Yeah, sure. That’s exactly what it looks like—you terrorizing my poor dog in his own house.”

“He’s fine!” you protested, finally letting Blue catch you. He barreled into your legs and nearly knocked you backward, tail wagging like a metronome on speed. You dropped to your knees, scratching his ears while he tried to crawl fully into your lap again. “See? He loves me.”

Riki shook his head, but there was a grin tugging at his mouth that he couldn’t hide. “Great. Two men in this house officially wrapped around your finger.”

You shot him a look over Blue’s furry shoulder. “Oh? Who’s the other one?”

Riki only raised a brow, not answering as he grabbed a bag of vegetables to start unloading, the picture of innocence.

Blue barked once, like he was in on the joke, and you gasped dramatically. “Blue knows! He totally knows.”

“Blue knows you’re a bad influence,” Riki shot back, but the way his lips curved, it didn’t sound like a complaint.

You kissed the dog’s head. “I didn’t know that golden retrievers were this nice.” Smiling, as Blue finally calmed down and trotted over to his owner. Nuzzling his leg as a greeting and sitting before him politely. Looking expectantly.

Riki’s brows furrowed incredulously. “Really? There’s like a whole archetype of men depicting their behavior.” Crouching to show Blue affection, he gently held his face and grazed his head with his thumbs.

“Yeah but I always thought golden retrievers were racist.”

Riki froze mid-head pat, looking down at Blue with a frown, smooching his puppy’s head. “Fair. But don’t put that on him.”

You stood to your full height, “yeah, but I will say your dog has converted me.” Making your way to the other side of the first floor to where he was, right by the island. The weirdly tall island. “Why is this so high up?” You inquired, running your hand across the smooth marble countertop.

Riki also stood, “I’m six foot one, tall person requires tall surfaces. I wanna minimize my back issues the best I can for now.” He turned on the sink to wash his hands with hand soap, offering some to you as well to which you accepted it.

“I forget you’re pushing thirty.” You nudged him, lathering the soap in your hands as you ensured to clean your wrists and fingernails. Doing stuff like this with him feels entirely too intimate. But in a comforting way, a way that almost feels like if you just tried hard enough that this could be your life. That the congenial lifestyle with the congenial home and the congenial dog and the congenial neighborhood could be something in your crystal ball. That wealth didn’t need diamonds or glitz, but community and comfort within four walls.

As your hands brushed his, it instantly felt like the water was burning. But you couldn’t pull away.

The older man noted your slight daze, eyes looking into the sink aimlessly and just turned off the faucet. Riki grabbed a hand-towel and gently dried your hands first, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Not rushed, not clinical, but careful—pressing the fabric between your fingers, brushing over your palms.

You swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how close he was standing. The smell of his cologne mixed with the soap, the faint scrape of his rings against the towel, the way he didn’t look away from you even as he focused on his task. “I think you’d be happy to live to see my age.”

“My grandpa used to tell my mom that all the time. Now she says that to me whenever I call her old.” You smile softly, letting him toy with your hands as if you were a marionette.

Riki huffed a small laugh, still drying between your fingers like it was some delicate ritual. “Smart man.”

You tilted your head, studying him. The way his lashes dipped as he focused on your hands, how his touch lingered longer than necessary, like he was memorizing the shape of you through skin and soap.

“Do you ever feel old?” you asked, half teasing, half genuine.

That made him pause. His eyes flicked up, catching yours—steady, unflinching. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “But not right now.”

The words hung between you, heavier than you expected. Your chest tightened, but before you could respond, Blue barked from the living room, like he couldn’t stand being left out.

You laughed softly, pulling your hands away before the moment could swallow you whole. “Guess he’s jealous.”

Riki smirked, tossing the towel onto the counter. “Can’t blame him. Want me to give you the tour?”

—

Riki’s home was just like him. Almost to a tee. Exactly like the man that owned it. Everything of his—just like him—had a reason for why it existed, where it was meant to go, its function. Like this home was created by a robot or some sort of genius. Which you’d hate to admit but…he is one.

His home had many rooms but he brought you to his favorite ones, or just the part of the house he favored the most. His huge backyard was mainly just a play area for Blue, but also an entertainment area for guests when he would have them over. Seeing as the weather was cold, he had tucked most of the chairs and tables away in the shed, preserving it for spring and summertime.

Then he had the second floor, with an open pathway to look over the living room to inspect the floor to ceiling windows. He stopped you, holding your shoulders gently. “I think this part is my favorite, during the day you can see the lake from here. It’s about a mile away but…if you squint then…” He shrugged, adjusting his frames and squinting as if the traditional chandelier wasn’t illuminating the glass. Making it hard to see out due to the darkness on the other side.

You leaned over the railing, squinting with him even though there was nothing to see but the reflection of the two of you in the glass. “Wow,” you deadpanned. “What a view. Truly breathtaking.”

Riki chuckled, his hands slipping from your shoulders but hovering like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to pull away completely. “You’re ruining the magic.”

“You’re ruining my eyesight.” You tapped the edge of his glasses with a grin. “You’re telling me you come up here just to squint at your own reflection?”

“Not just mine,” he shot back smoothly, his gaze sliding toward you in the glass.

You caught it, your pulse ticking up despite yourself. The chandelier light caught his profile, sharp and soft all at once, and for a second you hated how easy it was to imagine standing here with him years from now—same house, same view, only more familiar. “Are you flirting with me, Mr. Nishimura?”

He smiled shyly, biting his lip as he ran his free hand through his hair. “Is it working? I’m like…really trying here.”

Your laugh came out softer than you meant, almost betraying the butterflies turning your stomach upside down. “Points for honesty,” you teased, tilting your head so your reflection lined up next to his. “But you don’t really have to try that hard, you know.”

His eyes flicked from the glass to you, something unguarded flashing there before he covered it with a crooked grin. “Careful. Keep saying things like that and I might start thinking you actually like me.”

You let the silence brew between the both of you. Unknowingly looking at him with gentle eyes, you pursed your lips—doing your very best to not let him know that you were cracking. So, you shrugged teasingly. Sending a message of maybe or maybe not.

He’s still in his business-wear. Still wearing his white button-up and black slacks. But a few buttons were undone. His tie was loosened, his frames were still on the edge of his nose, and his pillowy lips were still as shiny and moisturized as ever.

And it almost took everything out of you. It really did, yeah…

Riki’s eyes gleaned, “oh my gosh…are you checking me out?!”

Your mouth dropped open, heat crawling up your neck. “Wha—no! Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh, come on.” He angled his body toward you, smug but still soft around the edges, like he couldn’t quite hide how much he liked the idea. “You just stared at me for a solid thirty seconds. That wasn’t a ‘hmm, nice chandelier’ kind of look.”

You scoffed, refusing to meet his gaze, your eyes darting anywhere else—back to the windows, to the railing, hell, even to the chandelier itself. “Maybe I was just zoning out.”

Riki leaned in closer, voice dropping, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe you were imagining what it’d be like to kiss me.”

The audacity. Your pulse tripped, your tongue stumbled, and all you could manage was, “You wish.”

But the worst part—the absolute worst—was that his grin only widened, like you’d just confirmed it for him. He really did wish. And so did you.

—

You two were in the kitchen again. Now you were making the dinner you promised and as you took the chicken breast out of the fridge that he put away when you arrived—he sat down and asked. “Dude, these counters are like up to my neck, what the fuck.” You laughed softly.

Riki sighed dramatically, “sorry, sorry.” He stood up with a grunt. “My geriatric ass counters…” Smiling as he walked to your side and feeling underneath the counter, ultimately letting the counter release an automatic, whirring noise—resulting in the counters slowly lowering. “Let me know when to stop,”

Your eyes bulge out of the sockets. “No way—that’s good—holy shit, I’ve never seen that before.”

He chuckles, eyes glinting with mischief as the counter descends. “Yeah, welcome to the future, sweetheart. I call it…premium ergonomics.”

You lean closer, pretending to inspect the mechanism. “I just think you’re Tony Stark. Can I be Jarvis?”

“Blue’s Jarvis, sorry.” He feigned a frown as he shrugged. “You can be Pepper, though. We can have cute little Iron babies or something.”

You stifle a laugh, trying laughing so hard you almost drop vegetables that you were handling. “Dude you’re not knocking me up with Iron-anything.”

Riki grins, leaning casually against the newly lowered counter. “No but think about it, they’d have a high likelihood of obtaining the sagacious mind from their father.”

“So what I am, chopped liver? Am I literally just a vessel?”

He shook his head, “they’d have your cute nose. Your eyes…” Riki smiled brightly, “your gorgeous skin. Humor too.”

You blink at him, a little stunned, but the warmth spreading through your chest makes it hard to argue. “Wait—so I get all the charm and looks, and you get the brains?”

He laughs, tilting his head. “Nah, Pepper, we share the load. But your side is pretty indispensable.” He reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “And I’m not just saying that because it’s cute—you really are indispensable.”

“You’re such a skank.” You turn your head, mumbling as you try to talk yourself out of blushing. “All you do is flirt, Riki.”

The older man laughs at the playful insult. “Using ‘skank’ unironically is the only concern I have here.”

—

After some time, Riki and you fell into a calm rhythm. As you let the seasoned chicken cook alongside the peppers—you ensured that the pasta wasn’t overcooking. But you moved about very casually. Like you had done this a million times before.

“Do you have some wine?” You ask absentmindedly as you check the boiling fettuccine.

Riki stood, wanting to be of any service during this process, and opening the wine cooler to sift through red wine. His favorite and presenting it to you. “Here,”

You shook your head, “don’t need it. Have some.” You smiled gently as you looked at him. “Relax, haven’t you been working all day?”

“Yeah but I’m here with you. I think wine is always a fun little post-work endeavor.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, catching his gaze, and teased lightly, “Careful, I might start thinking you actually like me.”

He mimicked you. Staying silent as he shrugged his shoulders teasingly.

You accepted it, nodding slowly. “Nice,” you switched off the stove. Signaling that the food was done. Smiling as you got a whiff of the jerk seasoning. “Mmm, God is good.” Shaking your head with a content sigh as you grabbed two bowls.

Riki carefully put the wine down at the kitchen table alongside some glasses. “So what did you decide to make?” You were surprised he didn’t ask sooner, but maybe he just wanted to keep the element of surprise.

“Rasta pasta.” You hummed as you made his serving. Carefully using the tongs to gather the food to the bowl.

Riki smiled, “smells delectable. Never had it before.” He leaned into you, acting as if he was trying to smell the food but was really trying to smell you. Bringing his face down to the bowl you held up but turning his head to your shoulder.

Your breath hitched the second his cologne mixed with the steam rising off the pasta. His lips brushed dangerously close to your shoulder, and you froze in place, tongs hovering midair.

“Riki,” you warned, trying to keep your voice steady, “are you seriously sniffing me right now?”

He pulled back, standing up straight as he adjusted his glasses with a shy smile. A mix of humor and embarrassment. “Sorry,”

You nudged him with your hip, “take your food.”

Riki chuckled softly, taking the bowl from your hands with a small bow of his head like he was receiving some sacred offering. “Yes, chef,” he teased, but his voice was low, still tinged with that sheepishness he couldn’t quite mask.

—

As the two of you set the table very casually, he grabbed both of your bowls and you a wine glass for him and some apple juice for you—you were finally ready to indulge.

The lovely Blue trotted over to the table, sitting down and staring you right in your face with an open mouth as you placed the glasses down on the table. “Hi, boy. You didn’t think I forgot about you, huh?” You turned to Riki as he was just about to sit. “Do you feed him chicken?”

He nodded, “sometimes, not all the time. My boy’s very…picky.” He purses his lips, closing an eye like it was hard to say.

Your eyes fell back to your now golden shadow. His claws scratched against the wooden floors as he edged closer to you. Like he fully understood you when you said the word ‘chicken.’

“May I give him some? I actually…” You smiled shyly, “I cooked some chicken separate from the one I made for us. So it wouldn’t hurt his tummy.”

Riki froze halfway into his chair, blinking at you in disbelief. “...Wait. You made Blue his own chicken?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool, but your smile betrayed you. “Yeah? I mean—I figured if I was cooking for you, I might as well cook for him too.”

Blue, as if sensing his moment of glory, sat up straighter, tail wagging so hard it thumped against the cabinet. His tongue lolled out, golden eyes wide with worship.

Riki leaned back in his chair, shaking his head with a little laugh. “Wow. You know you’ve officially ruined me for all future guests, right? He’s never gonna let anyone else cook again.”

You grinned, sliding the small plate you’d hidden on the counter toward Blue like it was contraband. “Don’t worry, I think he and I already have an understanding.”

Blue barked once—sharp, excited, and so perfectly timed it made Riki burst into laughter. “Oh my god,” he said, running a hand down his face. “You’ve been here for two hours and he loves you more than me.”

—

As the evening kept on, you and Riki found yourself into easy conversation.

“This was good, sweetheart. I didn’t think you were so good at cooking.”

You leaned back into the seat as you finished the last of your food. “Okay, I’m not Gordon Ramsey or anything—”

He grabbed his wine glass and took a slow sip, eyes never leaving yours. “Give yourself some credit, cooking in general isn’t easy.” He shrugged as he placed his glass down gently. “Like me, I can’t cook. I can bake though.”

Your brows lifted, impressed as you pushed your empty bowl aside. “You bake?” A slow smile creeping onto your face as you leaned down slightly to gently pet the dog that laid at your feet. “Are you fucking with me?”

Riki shook his head with a small laugh. “Swear to God. I make a mean crème brûlée, brownies, blondies, tarts. The works.” He mirrored your actions and pushed his empty bowl away from him. But he didn’t get up to clean yet, simply not wanting to break the intimacy of the conversation.

“What made you get into that?” You lifted your legs to hug them to your chest, toying with a loose thread on your jeans.

He tilted his head in thought, “not sure, really. But I’ve always been very good at math. Which…you know—obviously. Given my career and all but—” Laughing awkwardly as he rambled. “I don’t know…it sounds silly saying it aloud but with cooking it’s always a thing that’s up to taste and preference? Like some people find things too spicy, too salty, not enough of this or that. Juxtaposed to something akin to baking that leans to a more…exact process.” He spoke with his hands in reason. “Two eggs, one cup of flour, three tablespoons—you get me?”

Your lips curved, a little in awe, a little endeared. “That…actually makes so much sense. Like, of course you’d be into baking. Precision, structure, formulas—you get to control the outcome.”

He chuckled under his breath, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Yeah, it’s very simple. Really if you just follow the instructions there’s no way to fuck it up.”

“I hope you know that you now owe me some sort of dessert.” You nod firmly.

He stood with a slight groan, his butt aching from sitting for so long. “I was expecting that.”

—

An hour passed.

—

You and Riki had migrated to the couch, him now taking reprieve from the businesswear that he had on before. Now in his loungewear, a very casual pair of sweats and long sleeve shirt to adhere to the cold weather. Though it was pretty warm inside, you didn’t want to judge him.

He was still nursing the same glass of wine from an hour ago. Being mindful as he was the one that would be driving you back home. But you two had fallen into benign conversation as you sat parallel to the other. Keeping an appropriate distance as Blue had rested on the floor by Riki’s feet.

But something about this man felt so earnest. That despite the outwardly sharp and attractive appearance, he was not to be judged by just one thing. As if you just lusting over him would make you feel bad because he never led with sex or promiscuity throughout all of your interactions thus far. But sex always mattered to men. And you’d be stupid to think not.

“How many women have you slept with?” You asked suddenly amidst him talking about something pertaining to Blue’s pedigree—not that you were listening fully.

Riki froze mid-sip, wine glass hovering a fraction from his lips. His brows furrowed, just the tiniest crease forming between them. “Woah…where is this coming from?”

You rest your head on the plush couch, eyes lidded slightly from the comfort. “Curiosity.”

He takes a beat before answering. “I’ve had my fun.” He nodded, suppressing a smile as he pursed his lips. “I mean…I’m twenty-seven. Not saying virginity is lame but…” He finally smiled. “Let’s just say I had my fun when I was twenty-one, just like you when I was your age. But I’ve since…” His tongue pushed his cheek in thought. “Matured. The things that mattered to me then, just don’t anymore.”

You chuckled, “nice save.” You pushed his shoulder gently as you both shared a laugh.

“Did you want a number?”

“You told me without telling me. Basically saying that when you were in your prime, you used to—”

He waved his hands, “woah, woah, woah. I’d like to think I’m still in my prime.” Laughing as he scooted closer to you. “You make me seem like I’m decrepit. It kinda hurts my feelings a bit, you know?”

Your laughter died down, settling into a small smile. “I’m sorry, Riki. I don’t mean anything by it. Just pulling your leg.”

He sighed dramatically, looking at the ceiling. “Old man is very hurt.”

“Young woman is very sorry,” You frown slightly, reaching out to hold his hand. You didn’t exactly know how to handle other people’s emotions. Especially his—or anyone else’s for that matter. “Are you actually upset?” You panic slightly.

Riki’s eyes widened when he realized you didn’t take his joke well. “Oh no no, baby, you’re good. I’m not mad at you.” He said gently as a small laugh followed it. Reaching to hold your hands. “I was just…pulling your leg this time.”

Your lips parted, relief flooding out in a breathy laugh as you smacked his arm lightly. “Riki! Don’t do that to me, I actually thought I hurt your feelings.”

He grinned sheepishly, squeezing your hand instead of letting go. “Even Steven.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, pursing your lips to—again—keep yourself from giving him the satisfaction of seeing you smile.

He enjoyed the silence. It just gave him permission to stare at you without inhibitions. Which he hadn’t gotten much time or opportunity to do.

Everything about you seemed so jovial. His interactions with you were always pleasant and he enjoyed bantering with you. In some weird way, quality time and bantering were some forms of a love language of his and one thing he loved to do is just talk. Talking about everything. Talking about nothing. And the fun part about this is that he just met you and there was so much for him to get to know. He was already so into what he knew. So imagine all of the things he could know. Riki nods his head to the glass in his hand, “want some?”

Shaking your head, you glanced at the bit of red wine. “Nah, I’m good. I don’t drink.”

He smiled, “that’s fascinating. All I did at your age was drink.”

You tilted your head, smirking as you tucked your knees closer to your chest. “How were your college years? Sounds like you were a dick.”

Riki’s eyes were a bit puffy, a bit sleepy. Hair messy, like usual. Lips slightly more plump from sipping from the glass and licking the remnants off of them. His glasses were a little crooked too. He always seemed to be so effortlessly handsome and it was really starting to fuck with you. But he laughed as a result of your insult. “I was…” He hummed in thought.

“And be real with me. I don’t want any half answers.” You said firmly. “I let you slide the last time but you said you wanted to take me seriously. I expect the same from you, Riki.”

His laughter trailed off as he nodded, straightening up subconsciously. Placing his glass on the coffee table carefully, not wanting to let his droopy state impede him. “Okay…” His voice dropped, softer now. “Yeah, I was kind of a dick. Not in the…malicious way. I wasn’t out here trying to ruin lives or anything. But I was selfish. College me wanted instant gratification. Parties, girls, validation.” He scratched his jaw, gaze flicking away as if he didn’t really want to look at you while admitting it.

You stayed quiet, giving him the space to continue.

“I thought being wanted equaled being…worthy, I guess. It was easy to hide behind that. Easier than admitting I didn’t really know who I was or what I wanted yet.” His lips quirked into something like a self-deprecating smile. “So yeah, I hurt people. Probably left a trail of girls who think I’m exactly what you just called me.”

You nodded, brows pinched together—not in judgment. In thought, rather. “Do you think you’ve grown from that? Like…those insecurities and habits?” You leaned back against the couch, relief spread throughout your lower back as you crossed your arms over your chest. Your legs were just resting over the edge of the couch awkwardly. At a funny tilt. Which couldn’t have been comfortable.

Riki hesitated, mildly fearful of touching you but he figured why not? He reached over to gently pull your legs to rest over his lap. Hands ghosting over your calves as he ensured the blood rushed through them so they wouldn’t fall asleep. “Good?”

The gesture caught you off guard, but in a way that softened something in your chest. You blinked at him, then down at where his hands lingered warm and feather-light against your calves.

“…Yeah. Good.” Your voice came out lower than you intended, almost hushed, like if you were too loud you’d break whatever strange spell had settled over the two of you.

Riki leaned back into the couch, finally relaxing as if the permission had been granted, his thumbs brushing absent circles against your jeans. His tone, though, stayed serious. “To answer your question…I think—despite how much I trust my own judgment—which is better than how it was before. I still struggle with the…validation aspect.” He tilted his body toward you as he nearly hugged your legs to him. You allowed it.

“Is that anything you wanna talk about?” You ask gently, giving him the stage. Ample space and time to say what he felt he needed to.

His eyes left yours, looking down and away. The silence simmered between the two of you as he tongued the inside of his cheek. And with a sigh, he looked at you finally. And shook his head without another word—eyes looking like you asking him for all of this alone was bringing every last thing back to him. As if his last twenty-seven years of life were like a highlight reel behind his eyes.

The last thing you wanted was to push him. Nodding, you said. “Okay, that’s fine.”

“How about we talk about you?” He smiled as he rested his cheek on your knee. Absentmindedly running his hand down the side of your thigh. Sending his body heat plus extra warmth through to your stomach. And other places. “Why don’t you drink?”

Damn, you almost didn’t want to speak of this either. But somehow you just felt you wanted to. With him, he just seemed to have a knack for making you feel safe. Secure. “Well…my…alcoholism is sort of something that my family struggles with. Not all of them, and not so much to where it was an impudence on my parents or anything. But enough to where I’d absolutely hate it when my own sister drinks.” You sigh as you roll your eyes. “My grandfather was an alcoholic and my mom and uncle sort of had their issues with him. He sobered up eventually, he didn’t like the life he was living and became the man he needed to for our family. God rest his soul.”

Riki listened in complete stillness, like every word you spoke was meant to be caught and held onto. His cheek stayed pressed to your knee, grounding you while his hand traced slow, careful paths along your thigh—steady, not invasive.

“I don’t smoke either. Literally everyone in my family does—either cigarettes or weed. Or both.” You stifled a painful laugh. “I hate the way it smells and for some reason it just repulses me. This isn’t judgment to anyone that does these things. It’s just…not for me. A lot of baggage.”

“That’s why I…wear this.” You nodded to your left hand—showing a promise ring. A gold, shiny band. “Just a reminder of my commitment.”

Riki’s eyes followed the way you lifted your hand, the gold band catching the dim light of the living room. His gaze softened instantly, something reverent slipping into his expression. He straightened a little, no longer resting against your knee, but he didn’t remove his hand from your thigh—it only stilled there, warm and steady.

“That’s…beautiful,” he said quietly, almost like he didn’t want to disturb the weight of the moment. “Not just the ring itself. The why behind it.” His thumb brushed against the denim of your jeans, thoughtful, gentle. “You made a promise to yourself, and you’ve honored it. Most people can’t even keep the promises they make to others.”

You smiled faintly, caught off guard by how earnestly he spoke. “It’s not always easy.”

“Nothing worth keeping ever is.” He tilted his head, eyes still fixed on the band. “I think that’s one of the most attractive things I’ve ever seen someone wear. Not because it’s gold, but because it’s conviction.”

There was a beat of silence, warm and thick. He finally looked up from your hand, meeting your eyes with a mix of admiration and—something else. Something heavier, almost unspoken.

“Can I ask…” he hesitated, careful not to press too hard, “…what made you decide to start? Like, was there a moment that pushed you into making that promise?”

You laughed, “honestly? I started wearing these when I was a kid. So around…ten? Eleven? My mom and eldest sister made me promise not to drink, smoke, or have premarital sex.”

He giggled—humming out the laugh. “So I assume the latter was hard to keep?”

“Yeah, I got my first boyfriend, turned eighteen and it was over.” You snorted, covering your hand with your mouth.

Riki chuckled, shaking his head as if amused by the audacity of youth. “No judgment here. I lost mine when I was like…” He looks up as if sifting through his memory. “Seventeen?”

Your brows lifted in curiosity. “How was it? I feel like it’s always different for guys than girls.”

He smiled softly at your question, blinking slowly as he hugged your legs closer—like a content cat. “It was good. Quick. But good. The girl I was with…she was my age but she had a little more experience than I did.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Showed me a few things. Other stuff I sort of picked up along the way.”

You smiled, anticipating where this conversation was going.

“You?” He licked his lips, eyes still puffy as he turned his head. Pressing a gentle kiss to your knee.

“I’ve never had good sex. Like…in my life.” You laugh painfully. “My first time was so painful. And so was almost every other time after that. My then boyfriend—the one I lost it to…bro was not good. Which I wasn’t expecting like—Johnny Sins level fucking but at least—”

Riki laughed, turning slightly red as the vibrato spread through your legs.

You kept your laughter in as you continued. “No seriously, like I—needless to say, I’m a very quick learner and I feel like he was just not good. Like at all. Dude did not know what he was doing.” Your voice quivered as you laughed through your rant.

Riki nodded slowly in understanding. “What made him so terrible?”

You threw your hand up in relent. “He just…Oh my gosh…” You covered your mouth, stifling a laugh. “I can’t believe we’re having the sex talk. This feels like talking to—”

“If you say brother or dad, I swear to God—”

“No! No, no, no. Ew, that’s weird.” You chuckle, waving your hand. “I mean like I feel like I’m talking to a friend. Like this feels weirdly natural.” Gesturing between you two, you took into account his calm non-response.

He just looked at you, grinning with his cheek mushed against your knee. Listening, taking in what you said. But somehow to the naked eye, it didn’t seem that way. He looked like every other person does when they’re in thought. Or maybe just when his mind is simply elsewhere. “I told you that you wouldn’t want anybody else.”

Your face heated up, stomach twisting a bit as you looked away from him. Smiling despite yourself. “Anyway…” Your smile remained as you pinched his cheek. “He was just very lackluster. There was passion, chemistry, it’s just that his technique was off. I genuinely think that my body was rejecting him in some ways. Like no matter what he did, it was almost like I felt…nothing.” Your smile faltered as you reminisced on the bizarre situation.

“Did he enjoy it? The sex, I mean?” He cleared his throat as he adjusted himself. Lifting off of your knee—you frowned a bit at the loss of contact. Not noticeably though, but his hands slid over your legs though. Keeping them warm despite the denim that covered them.

“Yeah but that’s because guys are easy. Like learning how to give head was a breeze.” You waved your head. “Guys fuck anything I feel like.”

Riki laughed, shaking his head. “That’s true…but also rude. I have standards, thank you very much.” His hands flexed slightly against your legs. “Besides, if guys are so easy, maybe you just had the wrong one.”

“I think so too. Everyday if I’m being honest. Makes me wonder if doing that with him was a mistake, you know?” The humor ebbed a little, your tone softening as you sat with it. “Not because I didn’t care about him—at the time, in my heart, I felt I was in love. I really did. And I think that was what mattered then.” You shrugged lightly, smiling despite the ache in your chest. “But the way it ended? I regret every last bit of it. Just giving that part of myself to someone that couldn’t take care of my body and…didn’t even value his own was just…” You huff, “so…belittling? Demoralizing?”

Riki’s heart sank at your words. Seeing you go back to that part of you that you didn’t want to relive either. It was like looking into a prettier, younger, female mirror. The same highlight reel behind your eyes. “What happened?” He gulped. “What do you mean by that?”

On your end, like most people when they’re reliving some type of traumatic event—you laugh through the pain. “Okay so…” you cover your mouth as you try to stifle your laughter. “Don’t laugh.”

He shook his head. “I can almost bet money that this won’t be funny.”

“Will I get an advance on that too?”

He smiled despite himself, squeezing your sock clad foot as a warning. “Just tell me.”

“Ah!” You yelled dramatically, nudging his solid chest with your thigh. “Jerk.” You adjusted yourself too. “Fine, I’ll tell you. So…long story short, I went through his DM’s and saw that he was sending nudes to other girls. Unsolicited…”

Riki’s eyes widened, not dramatically so, but his head tilted and lips parted. He was shocked. Aghast to say the least. And slightly horrified. “How is this funny, sweetheart?”

“It’s not, I’m just traumatized and this is how I cope.” You pursed your lips to conceal a pained smile.

“So…he sent them—like just sent them to other girls? Did you know any of them like, were they classmates or something?” He leaned back against the back of the couch further, manspreading.

You shook your head. “Dozens of girls, none of which he or I knew. Just strangers online. I’m talking about photos, videos of himself like…it was bad.” You cringed a bit as you twisted your bracelets.

“I…I’m so sorry…” Riki frowned, looking at you with no humor. None. Just hurt. Not even your own mom was this pained when you told her this happened to you. “That’s so shitty. No one deserves that.”

And you almost couldn’t believe it. How he looked at you. With such expression, like if he could, he would take every last ounce of pain, confusion, betrayal, anger from your spirit. The same emotions that you’d been carrying for the last two years of your life. The same emotions you let yourself heal from. The ones that swore off men and told you that they’re capable of anything.

They’re women’s apex predators. The very reason for the existence of war, epidemics, and every ‘phobia’ and ‘ism’ that has plagued the world and crippled it. The very reason that you can’t walk outside with your hair done a certain way. Why you watched hours of videos on self defense and what to do in situations where you would be considered a target.

Men have done no good. Ever. They’re only good for bringing children into the world. But even then, you could go to a sperm bank and get that.

And it wasn’t even this fucked up ex situation that made you come to this realization. It’s simply most, if not all, of yours and other women’s problems have been at the hands of some man. They ruin lives. They poison. They lie, cheat, steal, prey, and abandon. They take advantage until you serve no use to them anymore and this was the very reason why you were on Riki’s couch.

You knew just like he did that you wanted his money. You just thought it would be fine. Show up, talk softly, sell him a dream the way he would do you. Because this was just that, a fucking game to the both of you. He gives you the means, you curate a world just for him.

But no, you’re laid back on his couch. Disarmed, vulnerable, shoes by the door and dog right below you. Giving him access to a part of you that did you no favors. He was just going to use it against you when he saw fit.

Fuck, when you asked him if he wanted to talk to you about something—he denied you. In this moment, he knew more about you than you did him.

He almost got you. And you almost slipped. But you couldn’t act out—because in reality, you didn’t know him. But he seemed to know you.

“History.” You waved him off. “Hey, what time is it? It feels late.” Sitting up, you remove your legs from his lap and stand. Stretching as you scanned the room for your phone. Feeling the cushions with shaky breath. “I have class tomorrow, you know…?”

Riki sits up straight, eyes narrowing behind his frames like he just missed a step in this conversation. “Wait—what just happened?” His voice wasn’t slick, it wasn’t smooth. Just perplexed. Almost rattled.

You didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. “Nothing. I just remembered I have class tomorrow.” Your phone buzzed by the grace of the universe, snug between the cushions.

Riki turned his head to his left as he could literally feel the device’s vibration. He felt for it too, reaching it before you did.

You gulped, feeling your pulse quicken. Stepping back like just being this close to him was going to burn you, realizing what you did and the position you put yourself in. You decided somehow that in a desperate search for money, you matched with a stranger on some sugar dating app. And you’ve been essentially playing like you’re in some relationship with this man for the last few hours and…you can’t believe you let yourself fall this deep for a man you met a week ago.

Riki handed you your phone like it could come alive. Slowly, measured. “Okay. Um…I can give you a ride home. If you’re comfortable with that. If not, I can always call an Uber for you.”

“No.” You shook your head with fervor. “I’m good. I’m just gonna…” You glance at the door.

Riki stood to his height with panic, even sorrow behind his eyes. Worry. “Did I say something? Do something? I mean I…I thought things were going good. We had dinner and talked…” He stepped closer to you, Blue moving out of the way. Watching the scene with typical dog curiosity. “I was having fun. Please, if I freaked you out—”

“No. You…you were perfect.” Nodding assuredly, “nothing you said…or did was wrong. I just remembered I have an eight AM class and…” Breath shaking against your will—but you gathered it inconspicuously. “Forgot that I had some assignment due tonight that I only did half of.”

Riki tilted his head, ready to say something else but he pursed his lips. “Okay…” He nodded in acceptance. “Right. Um…” He wiped his eyes, taking his frames off as you slipped past him to the door. Slipping on your shoes easier than you any other time you put them on. He stood by the couch still. “We’ll text…or something?”

Your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Totally.”

He waved with a soft smile, already knowing where this was going. Riki wasn’t stupid. He saw the way you looked at him. Like he was something to fear, like he was the one that took your virginity and mistreated you. But while he was ready to blame him and any other man for leading this version of you to him. He couldn’t. “It was great to meet you.”

You froze at his words, the soft acknowledgement hanging in the air. But his gaze was the same, only warm-seeming. Calm-seeming. You didn’t know anymore, judgment impaired. “I…” You swallowed hard, searching for words that wouldn’t betray the swirl of panic in your stomach. “…I should go.”

He blinked, a flicker of confusion crossing his features before it smoothed back into that unreadable calm. “Right. Okay.” His voice was gentle, careful, but it carried the weight of…something unspoken.

The moment the door clicked shut behind you, Riki let out a slow, defeated breath. He sank back into the couch, the weight of the evening finally settling on him. Blue jumped lightly onto his lap, nudging Riki’s hand until he stroked his fur. He sensed it—Riki’s tension, his quiet heartbreak—and pressed against him like he could absorb it.

Riki rested his head back against the cushions, eyes tracing the dim lines of the room. What did I do wrong? he thought. Why is this always like this? Every time he thought something was going well, something slipped through his fingers. A laugh, a smile, a small moment of connection…gone before he could even hold it.

His hands flexed unconsciously in his lap, then fell still, resting atop Blue as if his warmth could fill the emptiness his owner carried. Loneliness was no stranger to him—it had been the constant undertone of his life—but tonight it hit sharper than ever. Seeing you leave, seeing the hesitation in your eyes, the subtle fear, it left a hollow ache in his chest he didn’t know how to fix.

He whispered to no one, voice barely audible over the soft rustle of Blue settling in. “Why does it always slip away? Why can’t I get it right?”

Blue let out a small, comforting whine and pressed his head against his chest. Riki closed his eyes, letting the dog’s simple, unjudging presence anchor him. Nothing felt worse than failing someone he genuinely cared for, failing a connection before it even had a chance.

The room was quiet, save for Blue’s gentle breathing and the faint hum of the heater. And there he sat, still, small bursts of sorrow coiling in his chest. He had wanted it to go differently. He had wanted her to feel safe, to stay, to trust him without hesitation. And now, he was left with just Blue and the echo of what almost was.

—

One week later

—

Riki deleted all of the apps he downloaded. But he couldn’t delete your number. For some reason, out of all of the failed endeavors he’s had over the last few…however long, this one hit him the hardest.

He’s been rejected all of his life. He’s faced the word ‘no’ more than he’d heard his own name. Which may be a bit of an exaggeration but still. Nothing that he had told you was a lie. He hardly had friends his own age. Always getting along better with adults.

Being a kid and wanting to be friends with your peers and hearing ‘no’ made him want to be undeniable.

The same way that hearing ‘no’ from girls he liked made him want to be undeniable.

Being seen as the weird kid that never hung out or wore cool clothes made him get a job to save for the clothes that all of the guys his age wanted.

Seeing his high school crush go for the buff athlete made him start caring about his own body a lot more. Riki had always been slim, very skinny. That was just who he was and how his metabolism was built. He ate as much as any other growing boy but the food just never stuck. So all he could do was build muscle to supplement how thin he was.

Made him have the figure he did now. He was always tall—at least he had that. But being tall and fit was a cheat code. All he had to do was let his hair grow and he was golden.

By his senior year of high school, Riki was a magnet. All because he had spent the entire summer working on himself. Molding himself into the various personalities that he strived to be.

He was partying, drinking, skipping class, smoking weed, having sex. And it’s not like he wanted to do it, he just wanted so desperately to be seen and acknowledged by the people on his level. But after a while…it kind of got to be fun for him. His loving parents looked at him like he was a shell of who their once lovable, ingenious, respectful, and respectable son was. And they were right. Reminding him that high school was a four-year chapter in a hopefully long, exciting life. Not to place your bets on people that see you who you’re pretending to be. But rather who saw you when you weren’t. To not forget who Riki Nishimura was before he lost himself.

But it was “mom, before this I was nobody so…there’s really no risk in losing anything.”

Post graduation, he spent the entire summer before college alone.

So living it up in college the same way he did in high school didn’t seem horrible, right? Really, it was what made him the friends. The popularity. The ‘respect.’ But there, he was a dick. Childish. Stuck in high school.

So he grew up, locked in and minded his future. The man he knew he could be. He stopped trying to fit in, stopped everything. Once he turned twenty-two, the things that used to matter to him just didn’t anymore.

He got the career, worked his way up—but made great headway in such a short time due to his strengths and talent. Got his dream home, the cute little puppy. Now, all he felt he was missing was a partner. Someone to finally make him feel something other than the negative things. But he was at the point where he just wanted everything. Riki desired passion. Mainly someone passionate about him. Someone that looked at him and wanted him in totality. Not just halfway or what he could give them. Looking back, it was lost on him why he even signed up for that godforsaken sugar dating app.

He couldn’t put his finger on it. Desperation? Most likely. Overcompensation? For sure. But why even do that knowing that the entire point was to give and receive?

The two times you guys hung out felt like absolute magic for him. And it fucked with him when you left that night. It was the first time that he felt a genuine connection, even had explicit conversations about sex and not felt the need to escalate it. Because he likes you that much.

He never put sex on the table because you didn’t. He was a gentleman. Polite. Even wondered if he totally misread the signs but you for sure seemed to like him back. Or was that paid for too?

But there was just something about how you didn’t take him seriously nor yourself. You laughed at everything, joked at nothing, and were just the right amount of mean. Which he needed.

You had done nothing but be honest with him. Only time you might’ve fibbed being right when you had to leave but he just chalked that up to nerves? You might have just been…

“Oh fuck.” Riki slumped forward, hitting his head on the steering wheel. Eliciting a beep from the horn right in the middle of midday traffic. “I scared her…I…Something I did…” He whispered to himself beneath whatever trendy pop song played on the radio. One he barely even knew because he’s a grown man with a career and hardly spends time on his phone. Wait, was this Britney Spears?

He checked the time on his dashboard and it read six-fourty-seven PM. You’d surely be out of class by now right? You hadn’t talked since that night, not even texting him that you made it home in one piece. He just hoped. And as morbid as it sounded, no one knocked on his door to ask him any questions. Which gave him some consolation.

It wasn’t like traffic was moving anytime soon. With the way this was, it looked to be some sort of construction. At this point, he could just get off the highway exit if he needed to. But that wasn’t for another mile.

So here he was, just one car in the sea of thousands on this fuckass highway with nothing but time. With that, Riki figured why not make a fool of himself possibly? At least he could marinate in it for some time as a punishment. He was a masochist if anything.

With shaky hands, he reached on his infotainment screen and scrolled until he found your name. Closing one eye wearily before just ripping the bandaid off and calling you. Fuck, his stomach was in his ass. But after four rings, your voice filled his vehicle.

“Hello?”

He cleared his throat before opening his mouth. “Hi, um…I’m so sorry. I know you’re probably busy with…I don’t know—things you have to get done but I just wanted to check on you. See if you’re okay?” He pursed his lips. “It’s been a minute since we last spoke and I just wanted to give you some space.”

The other end was silent for a moment. “I’m good, Riki. Just doing me, school’s been getting busier. Midterms are coming up soon.”

He nodded, “that’s good—well not…good because exams suck but…I’m just happy you’re doing well.” He frowned slightly, hearing how distant your voice sounded. “Listen…I really wanna talk about last week.” He sighed. “I’m sorry if something I said or did might’ve scared you off but…I just want you to know that I care and I meant it when I said that I take you seriously. I just want you to be okay.”

The line was silent for a beat.

“Hello?”

“Hi, sorry. Just…I don’t know what you want me to say to that, Riki.”

He rested his elbow on the window frame. “I don’t—you don’t need to say anything you don’t want to. I just want you to know that whatever I did…or said…” His frown remained. “Sweetheart, I didn’t mean for any of it to put you off. I was just being myself and so were you.” He smiled softly, that you were letting him talk. Hearing him out. “I loved every minute that we’ve hung out and it’s only been like six hours combined. Which is insane to say but…” He cleared his throat. “I really wanna see this through. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to because I’m just calling you and whatnot.”

“...So what do you want from me?”

“I want…another date.” He nodded slowly, in thought. “I would like to take you out. Nothing as intimate as my house. But something fun…and public. Very public.”

“Public?”

“Why not?” He edged the car forward, the congestion loosening up. “I’ll plan it. Everything. We can be around a whole bunch of people. Or we can have fun some other way. Look…” He shrugged, “with the way you had me feeling, I don’t even care what we’re doing. I just want your time, my love. Let me do the rest.”

Silence.

The cars were starting to spread and scatter across the lanes. Riki quickly went into the lane that he needed to.

“Okay. But I’d prefer something public. Like you said.”

“You’ll get that.” He taps the steering wheel. “I just want you to know me. I don’t wanna put fear in your heart. For any reason. I care about you too much.”

The other line was silent before you blurted out: “Actually…I can’t go. Midterms are soon and I need every ounce of time to prepare for them.”

The car jerked forward somewhat as he hit the brake. “Oh…that’s fine too. I have work to get done as well. Maybe we can go to a cafe and—”

“No, no Riki. I’m sorry. I just…I don’t think us talking or doing this is a good idea anymore.” You sighed shakily.

“I…” Riki tongued his cheek, doing his best to hold back tears of frustration. He was stuck in a horrific traffic jam. Hungry, he hasn’t eaten since twelve this afternoon. Tired as he’s been getting less and less sleep these last few months. And he has to hear another ‘no.’ He cleared his throat again as he felt a ball of fire in the pit of it. “I...I respect your decision but…I really think this could work I mean…Is there anything I can do to make you change your mind? Anything you need me to be?”

Silence again.

Riki huffs, leaning his head back on the headrest. Eyes closing as if keeping them open would burn them out of commission. He didn’t know what to do. Again, stuck in the confines of a sedan in a myriad of cars that differed from his shiny, jet black Audi. “Hel—”

The call ended suddenly and it took his heart right with it.

Opening his eyes just for tears to fall on his lap and skip past his face, he looked at the car right beside him to see an old couple. The man driving—skin wrinkled, weathered but light. Like he had seen better days but lived for the great ones. His deep brown skin and silver fro stood out in the very average car he sat in. And the woman he sat beside was even more radiant than he was. Her long, coily hair that flowed down her back had some streaks of silver. A glittering salt and pepper. But in the car, the both of them were singing obnoxiously to some song on the radio. Riki couldn’t make it out but he felt the vibrations of the vehicle in his.

Nevermind that they were driving a common car. Nevermind that they were wearing simple clothing and way past their primes. They were happy, smiling—content and no matter how old they were—their youth supersedes all of it.

And here Riki was, young, rich, handsome but as lonely as the day he was born.

There was another road block.

—

In all honesty, you really did want to go out with him. However, your pride outweighed your fear in this case. The revelation that you had on his couch last week was solely out of fear. Nothing more, nothing less.

But it was just the very compromised position that you were in. Late at night, in his beautiful home that felt like it was made just for the fall weather you were having. Both worn down from the hearty meal you shared, him—slightly buzzed from the wine he was drinking. You, lying down—laying yourself metaphorically bare about how odd your life was up until this point. Just really gauge the optics here, you’re talking to your sugar daddy—who really seems to want a girlfriend out of you and is six years your senior—about how your first and only boyfriend ever shit on you.

Like weirdo after weirdo and you didn’t understand what it was about you that just attracted such men. The first was a happenstance, but the red flags were there, sure. But they were here too. The only thing that stood in the way was that Riki was a man. A grown ass man and he could give you more than your ex from way back then ever could. Which makes sense, it’d be silly to expect any sort of stability from a teenager. You were both kids.

However, Riki really didn’t do anything out of line. He was a gentleman, patient, kind, and a joy to talk to. Something about him made you feel so calm. And you loved that feeling.

The passionate, epic love was just so far beyond you at this juncture. You just wanted someone you could always feel sleepy around. Someone to sit with by the fire and talk about your days. Someone mature. Honest. Grown. Especially when you’d been expected to be such an adult from such a young age.

Bizarre things like promising chastity prepubescently, then when you finally decided to do something that meant a lot to you, gave someone something you deemed as precious, just for them to take it, and throw it in the dirt.

As much as you wanted to be a maneater, to ruin Riki’s life and run his pockets into nothing—you couldn’t. You would take any dollar he gave you, yes. But hurting his feelings? Letting him actually like you or show any sort of affection toward you, no. Absolutely not. You couldn’t stomach it.

And now, you’d rather let him do what some men denounce and others pride themselves.

Chase. But you already shut him down.

So you figured you’d meet him halfway.

—

The following morning, Riki gazed out onto the skyline from his office. Empty cups of coffee scattered around his desk as he sketched one of the blueprints needed for a local urban development. He could use CAD or BIM, as that’s most common but he was taught to draw by hand. That’s what he knew. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it.

He was taking a break at this moment, his ass hurting at this moment as he’s been glued to his chair for the last hour since he got here. Huffing and puffing as he grabbed the small trash can to gather the mess on his desk. Tossing scrapped sketches, the cups, the container that packed his breakfast to go in. By the time he was done, the phone on his desk rang. A loud, nearly ear splitting ring that didn’t necessarily help his migraine. The sharp ring rattled through his skull. He groaned, grabbing the receiver with one hand while pinching the bridge of his nose with the other. “Yeah, it’s Riki.”

His oh-so-lovely assistant, Sunoo, was on the other end. “Whatcha doin…?”

Sunoo was one of the very few close friends that he had told you he had. And one of the even fewer friends that he had in college that stuck around. “Nothing man, just cleaning up. My desk is a fucking mess right now.” He yawned, eyes watering as he sniffled. Wiping his eyes as he ran his hand through his hair.

“Yeah…I don’t think it’s just the desk that’s all over the place right now.” Sunoo remarked, sighing as he leaned into his own chair. Though Riki couldn’t see what was happening on the other line.

To put it plainly, Sunoo wouldn’t have this job if it weren’t for Riki. By the time Riki had graduated, he was put right to work in the firm. Sunoo was in between jobs as he had already graduated the year before. Him and Riki were close. So, why not help out a friend when he felt he could? Thus, Riki was allowed to include up to three people on his employee contract upon hiring, so Sunoo was his immediate pick—his executive assistant. That way, he was paid through the company and Riki’s own pockets wouldn’t be lined. Not that it bothered him anyway.

Riki leaned back in his chair, squinting at the ceiling like maybe the plaster would give him clarity. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means,” Sunoo shot back without missing a beat. “You’ve been walking around here like someone stole your puppy. Which is ironic, considering Blue is still alive and thriving.”

Riki let out a humorless laugh. “Cute.”

“What’s going on with you? The last week or so you’ve just been…blah.”

“Nothing—”

“Don’t say ‘nothing.’ Riks, you can be real with me. I’m your friend. The friend that literally wouldn’t be here without you and is forever indebted to you so…If I have to play in-house therapist then why would I ever turn you away?” Sunoo spoke patiently, softly but with spunk—like always. That was just him.

Riki frowned as he listened to his friend try to reach out to him. The prideful, dickhead part of him was ready to just deal with it on his own—but he had no pride in this moment. All of that went out the window years ago. “Okay…so—don’t judge me—but I met this girl on this dating app.”

Sunoo paused for a beat. “Okay…where’s the punchline? People meet on dating apps all the time. Now if it was on Grindr or something then I guess that would be a shock because you’re not—wait would it? I mean it’s not limited to—”

“No, fucknut—” Riki caught himself. “No, my beloved best friend ever and ever…I went on this sugar dating app—anonymously. That’s like the conditions of the app, everyone’s anonymous.”

“...A sugar dating app?” Sunoo repeated slowly, as if he needed to confirm he heard correctly.

Riki rubbed the back of his neck, heat crawling up despite his deadpan tone. “Yeah. Don’t make it weird.”

Sunoo burst out laughing. “Okay. And…?”

“Um…wow I didn’t realize how weird this sounds when I say it aloud but…” Riki scrunched his nose as he cringed slightly. “So I met this girl on the app and we linked up. Things were going good, she’s so…I don’t even know how to describe her because she’s so many things at once.”

Sunoo nodded despite Riki not being able to see him. “Okay…do your best then.”

Riki’s eyes narrowed in thought as he adjusted his glasses. “I…she’s funny, but so dry. Pragmatic but a bit…idealistic and I don’t think she realizes it. Beautiful, physically but…there’s just something so ugly inside of her that I can’t put my finger on.” His brows creased as he explained. “And we hung out, things went well. Then we linked up again a few days after. She came to the house—”

“She met Blue? Did he like her?”

“Loved her. He loved her.”

Sunoo whistled low. “Well damn. If Blue stamped her, that’s basically marriage approval. You know he growls at literally everyone else.”

“Just you,” Riki muttered, almost to himself. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the faint skyline through his office window. “That’s what made it worse. Because it wasn’t just me seeing something in her—he did too. And then…” His throat tightened. “And then she just—pulled away.”

Sunoo’s brows knit as he leaned forward in his own chair. “Pulled away how? Like ghosted you? Or like…stood up mid-hang-out and peaced out?”

Riki let out a humorless laugh. “Somewhere in between. One second we’re laughing, talking like we’ve known each other longer than a week, and then she just…shut down. Said she had class, an assignment due—something. I don’t know.” His voice cracked at the edge despite him trying to keep steady. “It was like I reminded her of someone she didn’t want to remember.” Which might be partially true. But Riki wasn’t going to divulge your personal details.

Sunoo stayed quiet for a beat before answering softly, “And you think it’s about you.”

Riki pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling harshly. “Doesn’t it always come back to me? Every time I think something’s going right—something good, finally—it slips.”

“How old is this girl you speak of?”

“She’s twenty-one.”

“Twe—Riki you’re twenty-seven.” Sunoo deadpanned, sitting up straighter in his chair. “You’re out here stressing yourself bald over someone who still gets student discounts at the movies?”

Riki rolled his eyes, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he wanted to laugh. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s exactly like that.” Sunoo leaned back again, clicking his tongue. “Look, I’m not saying age gaps are evil or whatever, but bro—you built a whole career, bought a house, adopted a dog that hates everybody.” False. Blue just hates Sunoo. “She’s…probably still living on ramen and iced coffee.”

“I know that,” Riki muttered, frustrated. “I know all of that. But when I’m with her, it doesn’t feel like she’s twenty-one and I’m twenty-seven. It just feels…” He trailed off, searching for the word.

“Like you finally don’t feel lonely?” Sunoo supplied softly.

Riki froze, lips parting but no words coming out.

“Yeah,” Sunoo nodded knowingly, his voice calm but laced with concern. “Okay…well what else happened during that hangout?”

“She…” Riki rested the receiver on his shoulder, close enough where he could speak and hear. Then grabbed one of his million mechanical pencils to twirl in his finger. “So we were talking on the couch. I won’t lie, it was intimate. Light cuddling…I was drinking a bit of wine—”

“She wasn’t?”

“She said she doesn’t drink.”

Sunoo hummed. “So you’re tipsy, she’s sober. Already uneven footing.”

Riki’s jaw flexed. “I wasn’t wasted, just…relaxed. And she wasn’t uncomfortable. If she was, I would’ve noticed.”

“Would you though?” Sunoo asked, not unkind but sharp enough to make Riki pause mid-spin of his pencil. “You’re in your house, your space, your glass of wine in hand. She’s twenty-one, in her first sugar situation ever—”

“She never said that,” Riki cut in quickly.

“Did she have to?” Sunoo countered. “C’mon, Riki. I’m not saying you’re some creep. I know you. But can you really blame her for hitting eject when it started feeling real?”

Riki let out a long exhale, his pencil clattering to the desk. “No. But let me finish and you tell me if I was buggin’ out.”

“Mhm…”

“So…she starts sharing stuff about her past and whatnot. Then she asked me about things that I’ve gone through and I mentioned to her—vaguely—about my…issues with validation and people pleasing and whatnot.” He cleared his throat. “Then when I told her that I wasn’t comfortable with sharing the rest, she just let me slide. But then she started sharing more stuff about herself and I just let her talk—because I was genuinely interested. So as she told me something—like…mid-convo something just clicked for her. Next thing I knew she looked like she saw a ghost and was out my door.”

Sunoo paused for a moment. “Okay so…maybe that might’ve been it? She entrusted you with a lot of personal information and stuff. Then when it was your turn to divulge, you stayed silent? Granted you don’t have to say anything you don’t want to but maybe that might’ve been it.”

Riki’s brows furrowed still, “what do you mean?”

“I mean that…if you’re both making an effort to get to know each other and she’s saying everything she’s comfortable enough to say. And you’re withholding and giving vague answers, maybe mid-conversation, that dawned on her. That you were trying to play her.”

“I’m…still not following. I don’t have to say anything I don’t wanna say, Sunoo.”

Sunoo’s voice softened, but there was a sharp edge of honesty to it. “Yeah, you don’t. But think about it—she’s opening up. And when someone’s letting themselves be vulnerable, even a little, they’re trusting you. And when you hold back…even if it’s not a lie…she might read it wrong. She might think you’re hiding something. Or worse…that maybe one of these days, you’d use it against her. People do that, you know?”

Riki ran a hand through his hair, jaw tightening. “So…because I didn’t spill my entire life story in the first ten minutes…she bailed?”

“Not just that,” Sunoo said patiently. “She probably got overwhelmed. She thought you were different, real, someone she could…lean into. And then, bam—she senses walls. You can’t blame her for stepping back. But at the same time…don’t think it’s over. It doesn’t have to be.”

Riki stared at the ceiling, exhaling slowly. “I just…wish I could fix it. Make her see I’m not…like the others. That I actually care.”

Sunoo’s eyes bulged out of his skull. “There’s others?! Oh yeah, you should’ve led with that. She’s young, brokenhearted, and most likely has little to no emotional regulation and was with a man she hardly knew? You were better off—dude, even the bear looks good.”

“But—” He cut himself as he heard voices on the other end—in the background. And a little clatter, signalling that Sunoo probably put the phone down but didn’t hang up.

“Is he in? I’m sorry I can just—”

“No, no, no, he’s not busy. He’s right down the hall. Just through those double doors at the end of the hall, sweetie.”

Riki froze mid-exhale, the pencil still twirling between his fingers. The voice was unmistakable—soft, clipped, familiar, and somehow making his chest tighten in a way that hadn’t happened in years.

“Wait…” he whispered under his breath, eyes narrowing. His pulse kicked up a notch, a familiar mix of anticipation and dread flooding him. The world outside his office—the skyline, the traffic, the sketches—blurred into background noise.

Sunoo, still on the line, cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh…Riki? Yeah so, there’s this girl that looks very twenty-one and will be at your door in t-minus thirty seconds. Gorgeous girl, you weren’t lying.”

“No way—she came—”

Knock, knock, knock.

“Bye.” Sunoo instantly cut the call and slammed the receiver down right where it was meant to be.

Riki froze, the sound of the knock echoing in his ears like a drumbeat in an empty hall. His heart slammed against his ribs, every muscle tensing like he’d just been caught mid-dream.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. He swallowed hard, trying to calm the sudden tightness in his chest. The logical part of him told him to act normal, to not let a week of silence, of overthinking, of longing, show.

But the rest—the part that had spent days imagining this exact moment—had other plans.

He squared his shoulders, adjusted his glasses, and walked toward the door, each step echoing in the quiet hallway. His hand hovered over the knob, a brief pause to steady his racing thoughts.

Then, with a deep breath, he twisted the handle and opened it.

There you were. Eyes just as reluctant as his. But goodness were you beautiful.

Funnily enough, you took a page out of his book and wore a knitted sweater. Though it wasn’t blue, yours was a dark green. One that complimented your brown complexion just right. Then your bootcut jeans and Doctor Martin’s brought everything together.

So simple. So you. So kind. But he wouldn’t be surprised if his heart would be beneath the soles of those boots by the end of this conversation.

“Hi.”

The man was still stuck right where he was at—eyes still not believing what they were seeing. Lips parted slightly as he gulped, as if he could swallow the disbelief. But he couldn’t find the words.

“Earth to Mr. Nishimura?” You wave your hand in front of his face.

Riki blinked, snapping out of his stupor. “Uh—yeah. Hi.” His voice came out rougher than intended, low and a little ragged, like he’d been holding it in for a week.

You raised an eyebrow, amused but careful, like you were testing how much of him was still there. “You okay? You look…flustered.”

He ran a hand through his hair, awkwardly chuckling. “Flustered? Me?...Yeah, I am.” Stepping aside to let you in, closing the door behind you. “How did you know where I worked?”

You turned your gaze to the skyline, then looked down to your boots. “Found it online…your LinkedIn profile was pretty honest.” Biting back a smile as you shifted your weight from foot to foot.

Riki’s head tilted as he laughed softly, “glad you enjoyed it.”

“I didn’t,” you shook your head with a small smile. “It felt like reading a manual on how to be successful and ignore feelings.” You paused, glancing at him cautiously. “Pretty impressive, though…not that I was paying too much attention.”

Riki leaned against his desk, exhaling slowly. “Yeah, that’s the plan—look competent, stay distant. Totally works…except apparently for some young lady who just showed up at my door.” He smirked, trying to mask the nervous tension creeping up his chest.

You crossed your arms, tilting your head. “And now what? You want me to see the office, critique your workspace, or are we just here to talk?”

He shrugged, sighing with a frown. “I don’t know. You came to me, baby.” He looked down at the desk for the bowl of the wrapped mints. Grabbing two—offering you one and taking one for himself. “I’m here for whatever you need me for. That was our deal. At least on my end.”

You took the mint and unwrapped it, letting the flavors hit your tongue. “I know…I just…wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“What’s been going on with you?” he asked carefully, trying to balance curiosity and caution. “Since…last week. You leaving suddenly, then the phone call…you said you didn’t wanna see me anymore.”

You hesitated, then looked him squarely in the eyes. “Honestly? I wanted to come see you. But I’m also…not great at admitting that.”

His eyes softened, glasses slipping down his nose. “Why?” He said gently, so quiet that you just barely missed it. “And I know—I realize that it’s been a lot of you answering and me asking and probing but…I’ve told you this already. I…I care.” Riki nodded. “And clearly you’re here, which means that some part of you is still interested.”

You bit your lip, looking down at your hands for a moment before meeting his gaze again. “I am…interested. I just—I don’t know how to do this without feeling like I’m giving too much…or getting hurt.”

Riki’s expression softened further, shoulders relaxing slightly. He leaned back against the surface, studying you like he wanted to memorize this exact moment. “Hey…that’s fair. I get it. And I don’t want you to feel rushed or cornered. We…we take this at your pace. Always your pace.” He leaned up off the desk to gesture to his chair for you to sit at. Which you did. “But, I really need to know what happened…? Like…I’d love to know what it was that I might’ve done to—because the way you looked at me was like I was an axe murderer and it just…it scared me to see you look so frightened.”

Okay, here goes nothing. You’ve been practicing your responses, coaching and guiding yourself for the inevitable and just like you meant to, you just had to be honest.

“I just felt very compromised at that moment. It was nothing you said. Or…well maybe it was something you did…” You sidetracked, mumbling to yourself.

He straightened up, “tell me. Please.” He nodded encouragingly.

“You were just not answering anything I asked. I didn’t demand you to but…you’re just so easy to talk to that I found myself getting lost in it. Then it hit me that…I’m telling this guy lore as far back as ten years ago and I’m getting half-answers when I ask you about things. Then it was just that I was on the couch, you were drinking, I hardly know you like—”

Riki gives you his full attention. “Hey…hey, slow down. I get it. You’re saying it felt…uneven? Like you were opening up and I wasn’t meeting you halfway?”

You nodded, words catching in your throat. “And it felt like you were going back on your word. You basically said that you’re a very…reciprocating type of person. That you take me seriously and would as long as I did. So…I’m kinda putting myself out there as I was just starting to like you and…you shut me down.”

Oh my god…

You shut—

Riki’s eyes softened, a flicker of understanding passing over his face. He leaned back slightly, letting the memory sink in. “Oh…shit,” he whispered, almost to himself. “I didn’t even think…that’s exactly what happened—what the fuck.”

“But it wasn’t just that. When I was talking to you? About my ex, and I guess…it just stirred up old feelings of like I was going to be done wrong again.”

He shook his head slowly, “I wouldn’t do that to you—”

You laugh bitterly. “That’s what every guy says—”

“But I’m not every guy.” Riki kneeled in front of you to meet you at eye level. “Look, you don’t owe me anything. And technically all of this is my fault because I made it this way. I led with romance when it really didn’t have to be like this. So, I’m responsible for whatever it is that I make you feel—positive or negative. But please listen when I say that I can’t be punished for whoever did you wrong before. It’s unfair.”

He made sense, a lot of it. But you just weren’t trying to hear it. You didn’t want to hear any of it. At all. Not a piece or fraction or an entire pie of it. “Don’t think you’re so innocent, either.”

He leaned back, frowning as he gave you a onceover. “What?”

“Every single other girl that you shit on in the past, the ones that you half-told me about. Don’t you think they might be doing exactly what I’m doing? Punishing?”

Riki blinked, taken aback for a moment. Then he shook his head slowly, a rueful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Maybe…maybe some did. But you don’t know what you’re saying. You only know a part of it. Please don’t put words in my mouth.”

You narrowed your eyes, a little defensive now. “And that’s the exact issue. You know all of my past. I know bits and pieces of yours. So how do you expect me to know you or even trust any of the shit you say? You don’t leave me with anything, I have to fill in the blanks myself.”

“And I’m sorry.” He held your shoulders, “but I’m just not there yet and you need to respect that—”

“I do. I let you rock every time and didn’t say anything but I need to know who I’m dealing with. Because you preached that I wouldn’t want another man and that you basically wanted a girlfriend, but you’re not being transparent.”

“I’ll be transparent, that’s not the issue. I’m just saying that I’m a grown man. I don’t need to be punished by your shitty high school ex.”

“Age has nothing to do with it! Because you’re just as much of a creepy weirdo as him.”

Riki blinked, stunned by the accusation, his jaw tightening. “Creepy…weirdo? Really?” His voice was low, tense, but he wasn’t yelling. More like he was trying to process the sting. He stood to his full height. “Me not telling you something makes me a creep? Are you serious?”

“Riki, think. I’d expect for you to be at this age because most men that are financially stable are older and because of our…arrangement it makes sense. But if you had come up to me at a bar or somewhere other than where we met, I’d think you’d be a creep.”

Riki’s eyes widened slightly at your explanation. He hadn’t considered that the age difference might actually be a bigger deal to you than he thought. He nods slowly. “So you’re saying if I wasn’t paying you...you might have thought I was trying something weird or creepy because of our age gap?”

You just shrugged one shoulder, a slight smirk on your face. “All of you men are predators. And you’re sick. And will take anything where you can get it. Y’all are always calling girls easy but I’ve never met a man that says ‘no.’”

There it goes. That word again.

“So it’s up to me to take advantage of where I can get it. I wanted your money, Riki. You knew that. Yet you’re still trying to get me to fall for you. Why?”

Riki swallowed hard, his chest tightening, and he ran a hand down his face like he was trying to steady himself. But he shook his head. Hard. Like he could shake your words out of his head.

“Why?” You probed. “Or are you gonna leave me to fill in the blanks again?”

“Stop it. You’re just upset, you’re only saying this because I—” His voice cracked, eyes misting and glasses fogging up.

“Because you called me out. Yeah. But aren’t I allowed to do the same thing?” You also stood, only about a foot away from him now. “You wanted to make me fall for you because I’m just a game. Just like every other girl.”

“You hardly had friends your age growing up, you said. You don’t have many friends now, you just want a connection wherever you can find it. So you find me, figure out my age and try to exert some sick knight in shining armor power play over me like it was gonna work.”

“That’s not true.”

“So what is?”

“I just wanted to prove that I could have something real.” His voice cracked. “Something organic, that even if I dangle money over someone’s head that…they’d still see me for me.”

You blinked, the words hitting harder than you expected. “Something real?” you echoed, your voice quieter now, almost incredulous. “And you think…throwing money into the mix makes it real?”

Riki ran a hand through his hair, shoulders sagging as if the weight of the conversation was physically pressing him down. “No…no, that’s not it. That was never it. I—I didn’t want this to be about money. I wanted to see you. Not a version of you that anyone could buy. I wanted…” He trailed off, swallowing, gaze dropping to the floor. “…I wanted something that mattered.”

“Well, I don’t want any of it. Not your money anymore and not you.”

“You’re lying,” he shook his head. “If you didn’t want either then you wouldn’t have come all this way just—you told me you wanted to see me. So which is it? And now you’re deflecting and insulting me because I just asked you to stop comparing me to someone that left your life what…two years ago?” He sniffled, wiping his eyes slightly. “Your words aren’t even the meanest thing about you.”

Your expression faltered, heat rising to your cheeks as your chest tightened. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words tangled up in your throat. For a moment, you just stood there, caught between the truth you wanted to hide and the truth you had already revealed by showing up.

“And the craziest, most toxic part of this all is that I know you don’t mean it. You want me. I know you want me. You just need to be clear with me so I can show up for you the way you need me to. Because I’m willing, I’m for it.”

“I…don’t know what I want,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “All I know is that I don’t want to feel like I’m being played…like I’ll get hurt again. And right now…I don’t know if I can trust that won’t happen with you.” Crossing your arms, shrugging as you hugged yourself. As if to keep your heart from coming out of your chest.

Riki’s shoulders fell further, a deep exhale leaving him as he took a tentative step closer, keeping his gaze on you. “Tell me. Be honest with me. What did you feel when we met, when we hung out the second time, then now. What do you feel now?”

Your stomach twisted, almost feeling bile come up but you caught yourself. “When we met I felt…incredibly nervous. For obvious reasons but seeing you…I obviously thought you were attractive. Kind…sweet—a little dorky but I liked–like it.”

The taller man smiled sweetly, nodding for you to continue.

“Then when we hung out it sort of…it was the most intimate I’ve been with someone in life. And it sounds a little bizarre seeing as we’ve had weirdly extensive conversations about sex but…” You bit your lip to suppress a laugh, one that he returned. But his smile just softened a bit as did his eyes. “Cooking with you, seeing the innermost parts of you in your own home, meeting and playing with Blue. Then we just…relaxed on the couch and it was so…natural. So…natural and I hated that it was easy for me to fall into that with you. So quickly at that. It just scared me because I felt like you were like all the others. Love bombing and what not.”

“And now?” He nearly whispers. Looking at you hopefully.

“Now…I’m sorry. Very sorry for speaking to you that way. And deflecting, when literally everything that you said was one thousand percent true. When you’ve done nothing but be so patient with me because you see some type of potential in this—and I just…pushed you away.”

He nodded, “but for good reason. You were scared. While that isn’t an excuse and you were being mean…I can take it.” Riki laughs gently. “And…” His laugh simmers into the quiet of the office. “This is just about you and what you want. Who else will I give all of my money to?”

“Literally shut up, Riki.” You groan into your hands as you cover your face with them, laughing behind them.

“No, don’t hide.” He laughs again, this time a little more emboldened—he reached out to gently move your hands from your face as he held them close to his heart. “Who else will I take verbal beatings from? I’d rather you than Sunoo.”

“Who?”

“The guy you spoke to, to get in here? He doubles as my assistant and closest friend.” His smile hasn’t wavered.

“Oh he’s cute…” You turn your head back to the door to which Riki immediately turns your face back to his. Placing two fingers on your jaw as he steps closer to you—narrowing the gap between yourselves. “Aht-aht, I told you I don’t share.” He tuts, shaking his head slowly.

Your breath hitched, eyes flicking down to where his fingers rested against your jaw, then back up to meet his. His tone was playful, teasing even, but his gaze burned with something deeper—something you felt all the way in your chest.

“You don’t share, huh?” you murmured, lips curving into a half-smile despite your pulse racing.

“Not even a little.” His voice was lower now, deliberate, like each word was meant to sink in. “Now, if you don’t mind…I’d like it if you took the time to consider giving me another chance. I know what you want. And hopefully you’ve gained a little more clarity.” He stepped back, releasing you completely.

You frowned, “why’d you let go?”

He furrowed his brows. “I don’t know…” His face scrunched a bit—there was a beat of silence. “I just figured touching someone in this way whilst they’re trying to make an important decision—especially as it pertains to me—might be a little…manipulative?” His voice veered off at the end. Like he was saying the sky was blue and grass was green—obviously. “I don’t…” He shook his head lightly, very perplexed. You crouched and groaned dramatically, head buried in your lap. Riki blinked at you, baffled. “What are you doing?”

“You’re so…ugh.” Your voice was muffled against your knees. “Why do you have to go and be…respectful at the exact moment I don’t want you to be?”

His lips twitched, fighting a smile. “You’re mad at me for…not being manipulative?”

You whipped your head up, glaring half-heartedly. “Yes! No—ugh, I don’t know. You’re confusing.”

He chuckled softly, leaning against the desk as he crossed his arms. “Welcome to my life. Try being in my head for a day.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I think I already am.”

“Then you know it’s a mess up there,” he teased, though the warmth in his gaze lingered. “But seriously. Take your time. You don’t owe me anything.”

The groan that ripped out of you was almost primal. “Stop being…perfectly imperfect in the exact way that makes it impossible to hate you!”

Riki grinned, tilting his head. “So, you admit it.”

Your jaw dropped. “Admit what?”

“That you don’t hate me.”

“…I despise you,” you muttered, looking away—though the heat creeping up your neck betrayed you.

He laughed, a quiet, disbelieving sound, before shaking his head. “Sure…and I designed the Empire State Building.”

You frowned in confusion, “you did?”

Riki’s eyes widened in disbelief. Like he had seen Casper himself. “Oh you’re…” He scanned your face for any sign of jest—and none. Not a lick. “No–no baby, no…I was j—that was built, like, a century ago.”

“…Oh…I’m losing my mind.” You bury your head again and pull at your hair. Not enough to hurt, but maybe even enough to knock some sense back into yourself. Riki frowned and immediately crouched to guide you up. “Oh, my love, I know you are. You would’ve made some joke about how I would’ve still been born to see it built anyway.” He hugged you to his chest, resting his chin atop your head. Rubbing your back to soothe you.

“I’m slipping, Riki, and I blame you.”

“Fun fact,” he murmured, rocking you gently. “I had a hyperfixation with religious buildings as a kid. Specifically mosques. Like The Blue…Nasir al-Mulk. So much so that I used my Mom’s parchment paper—because I couldn’t get sketchbooks at the time—and drew them all by hand. Down to the most minute detail.” He pressed a kiss to your head. “Guess I’ve always been obsessed with impossible things.”

You blinked against his button-up, suddenly too aware of how steady his heartbeat felt beneath your ear. Of all the things you expected him to say, this—this quiet piece of his childhood—wasn’t it. No one else got this version of him, and somehow you knew it. The thought lodged in your chest, equal parts dangerous and grounding. “That’s so cute. Do you still have them?” You hugged him close, arms around his slim waist.

“Mhm,” he looked down at you. “But they’re framed at home. In my study.” Rubbing your arms to signal you to meet his gaze. “Seriously, though. It’s all up to you.”

“I’m sorry for being such an asshole…pushing you away and stuff. I’ve just never had a guy be nice to me.” You rested your chin on your chest. “And genuinely nice to the point where you’re willing to put your pride aside so soon.”

Riki rested his hand on your cheek, letting you nuzzle into his large hand. “It’s a sin anyway.” He shrugged, smiling gently. “That’s literally the entire point of any relationship. I’ve learned that relinquishing pride is necessary for any bond to flourish. Especially if it’s romantic.” His thumb stroked your cheek—just barely did you feel it. “And while I understand you, I won’t and can’t enable you.”

“My pride did get in the way a bit but…me coming here was me putting it aside. You reached out to me and I needed to do the same for you. Reciprocation, remember? Like you said?” You found yourself sort of…submitting to Riki. Which is something that was far too foreign for you. With men, you always found yourself having to be the one to placate them. Which is vastly different from that of submission. But in this case, Riki could tell you what to do if he could tell you what to do. And he really could because that was just the type of man he was.

His forehead dipped toward yours, breath brushing your lips. “Mhm, I remember.” He pulled you closer, chest to chest. “Whatever you want to know about me—the boring stuff, the invasive stuff—I’ll tell you. No secrets. No half-assing.”

Your lips curved into a smile. “Then I won’t enable you either.” Slowly, you slid his glasses from his nose, slipping them onto your own. You squinted through the blur, then snorted. “God, you’re blind as a bat.”

Riki’s laugh cracked the air, low and warm. He leaned closer, brushing the edge of his thumb over your cheekbone. “Guess that makes two of us,” he murmured.

The joke should’ve passed like any of the others. But it didn’t. It lingered, heavy in the space between you, his eyes locked on yours with a softness that made your pulse stutter. Before you could second-guess it, his hand tilted your chin up. And you let him.

His mouth met yours—slow, unhurried, the kind of kiss that asked instead of took. The kind that felt like he’d been waiting, and waiting, and waiting…and now he finally had permission.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, steady and grounding, like he was reminding you without words: I’m not going anywhere.

His lips were soft, buttery. That every time that you saw them, plump and shiny wasn’t for show. And the way they moved against yours, slick and careful—applying just the right amount of pressure—made your knees buckle slightly. You’ve never been kissed with such confidence before. It had been over three years since you kissed somebody, and as much as you’d like to say it was like riding a bike—you almost felt your body lock up.

Riki noticed instantly. He eased back a fraction, just enough so you could breathe, so you didn’t feel cornered. His thumb brushed along your jaw, grounding you, coaxing instead of demanding. “Hey,” he whispered against your lips, his breath warm. “Don’t overthink it. Just…kiss me baby. It’s okay.”

Something about the way he said it, low and steady, made your chest unclench. You exhaled, shaky, and pressed back into him—this time with intention. That was all he needed. His lips curved into a smile against yours before he deepened the kiss, slow and certain, like he was teaching you a language only the two of you would ever speak.

You leaned back, parting again as he mindlessly chased your lips. But you quickly removed his frames from your face. “Giving me a fucking headache.” Smiling as you tossed them onto the desk behind him.

“You’re lucky I’m farsighted.” He picked you up by your thighs, much to your surprise as he spun you around and sat you on the edge of the desk, your back brushing against scattered papers and cool wood. The motion knocked the air out of you in a startled laugh, but before you could protest, his mouth was on yours again—kissing you with more fervor—but nothing too intense.

Your smile remained in the exchange as you wrapped your arms around his neck and legs around his hips. Finally letting go, just the way you could only do around him. The way that he let you fall into him so easily.

And you let him.

—

Six months later

—

These last four months, you’ve been at Riki’s house way more than your own apartment. Which, I mean…anyone would be too! His home always felt more inviting than your own. With yours, it felt like you were just occupying the space. He begged to differ, he thought your struggle apartment was endearing. Which counted for something, sort of.

But seriously, if you weren’t hanging out with friends—you were with him. If you didn’t have any plans after class, you didn’t even miss a second. You were enroute to your man’s house. And given his work schedule, you found yourself alone only forty percent of the time which was perfect for you. You got the comfort of your new best friend and adopted son. You were able to focus on your assignments and enjoy the peace and quiet that came with the suburban life that Riki had so carefully picked for himself.

Got to eat as you wanted, literally his house was your oyster.

But the last few days, Riki was out on a business trip—so the house was all yours for the time being. All he asked was you watch Blue and not die. You did your civil duty. And did it well.

So here you were, sat at the famous kitchen table with your laptop—chipping away at some lab work that needed to be done by the end of tomorrow night. Music playing at decent volume from the device as you alternated between typing and jotting things down. Type, scribble, type, scribble.

Lo and behold, the little scratching and padding across the wooden floors was Blue. Tongue out and tail wagging as he trotted over to you. Looking down, you smiled and lightly scratched behind his ear. “Hi, Baby Blue.”

The retriever whined, but did that little dog smile that you swore wasn’t a thing until you met him. But before you could speak further, he hopped up on your lap—because of course, he never knows his own size. “Oh!” You grunted out, “dude, you’re way too big to be doing all that.”

This dog did not care however and just sat down. Back facing you as he looked ahead, tongue still out. Seemingly indifferent and blocking your vision from your computer. “You’re such a brat,” you pouted as you hugged him, rubbing his back. “Wanna go outside?!” You perked up, smiling.

Blue perked his ears at your tone, whipping his head back to look at you with pure golden-retriever excitement. At the magic word, he immediately hopped off your lap, nails clicking against the hardwood as he dashed toward the back door.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you laughed, dragging yourself up from the chair and stretching. Your stomach growled, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten since lunch—but Blue’s puppy-dog eyes at the door were basically holding you hostage.

Grabbing his toys from the basket by the door, you muttered, “You’re lucky your dad’s not here to see how whipped I am for you.”

That thought pulled you up short, though. “Dad.” You snorted at yourself. The fact that Riki had weaseled his way so deep into your life that you casually referred to him as Blue’s dad was…well, embarrassing. Comforting, too. You slipped on your sneakers, shaking your head at the realization as you followed Blue out into the backyard.

After a few minutes of playing and fetching, your phone buzzed and buzzed. Never rang, you hated the sound of a ringtone. Your phone’s been on vibrate for the last ten years of your life.

Incoming call from Big Rik <33

You froze, ball still in hand as Blue trotted back expectantly. Your heart did a weird little skip—stupid, considering you’d been practically living at his house for months now. Still, his name lights up your screen like that…it makes your stomach do a flip every damn time.

“Hold on, scoundrel,” you muttered to Blue, tossing the frisbee half-heartedly before swiping to answer. You pressed the phone to your ear, trying not to sound too eager. “Hello?”

“Miss me yet?” His voice came through low and smug, but with that warm edge that made your knees feel like jelly.

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see. “No. Blue’s keeping me plenty occupied. You’re kind of replaceable, actually.”

There was a beat of silence, then his soft laugh—rich, lazy, and the exact sound you didn’t know you’d been missing until now. “Shut up,” You shared a laugh before he asked, “what are you guys up to?”

Your smile remained as your laughter mellowed out. “Not much, I was doing some stuff for lab and Blue wanted to come outside so I couldn’t deny him. Figured he needed some exercise for the day.” Throwing his frisbee across the yard to catch.

Riki hummed on the other end, the sound deep and approving. “Good. Don’t let him get lazy while I’m gone. He starts acting like he runs the house if I’m not around to keep him in check.”

You snorted, watching Blue prance back with the frisbee, chest puffed out like he just won an Olympic medal. “Hate to break it to you, but he already runs the house. I swear he’s done some sort of spell—like I’m just compelled to do whatever he says. This is why I hate animals.”

That earned you another laugh, this one quieter, almost fond. “You sound happy,” he said suddenly, slipping the words in before you could fire back. Not teasing—just noticing.

The comment caught you off guard, hand faltering as you reached for the slobbery frisbee Blue shoved at your legs. “Do I?”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “It’s nice. I like hearing you like that.”

“Well I am…thanks to you.” You smiled gently, pausing for a beat. Letting the sound of the spring breeze fill your ears. “I miss you, Riki. I feel I hardly get to see you.”

There was a stretch of silence on his end, the kind that made your chest ache because you knew he was smiling but holding it back. “Yeah?” he said finally, voice lower now. “You know I’d be there every second if I could.”

You frowned, throwing the frisbee again. “I know you would, but we’ve both been kinda busy, you know? Like…we’re both either at school or work. Then when you get off, you’re exhausted—I don’t know, it’s just…” You sighed. “While I like my freetime, I don’t like being away from you, you know?”

You and Riki have grown very close over the last few months. Confiding in one another is something that grew to be a means of keeping you two close. Aside from the times you two are apart, you spend as much time as you can together and not a minute is wasted. You shop—and he doesn’t complain. Go on walks—you would drive when it was cold out. Literally just sit and talk about your wildest dreams and the most random things. Laughing, crying, everything.

It felt like he was your lover, friend, confidant, cheerleader, and personal bank all in one.

Riki hummed softly, the line crackling with his quiet. “You don’t think I feel that too? Half the time I’m at work I’m staring at the clock, wishing I was with you. Even when I’m home, I catch myself reaching for my phone just to hear your voice.”

Your throat tightened, the frisbee slipping from your hand as Blue bounded past you. “Don’t say stuff like that unless you mean it.”

“I do mean it,” he said, no hesitation. “I miss you like crazy. It’s annoying, actually.”

You laughed, that knot in your chest easing. “Annoying, huh?”

“Yeah. Like—I’ll be doing nothing and suddenly I’m smiling like an idiot ‘cause you said something hours ago. Do you know how hard it is to keep my cool around my colleagues when I’m like that?”

Your heart was hammering now, and you were glad he couldn’t see the way your cheeks were burning.

Riki went quiet for a second, then softer: “You feel like home, you know that?”

The air rushed out of you, your lips parting. “…Riki.”

“I’m serious.” His voice had dropped, steady and warm. “Every time I leave, I just—can’t wait to come back.”

He said all of this, did all of these things, yet there was no label. No solid stamp on the envelope of your relationship. And Riki was the full package. Physically, he was tall, handsome—delectable even. Well-dressed, always smelled good, extremely clean. Cleaner than you at times, it sort of freaked you out. Personally, Riki was smart, the smartest person you knew—point blank. Just so wise, matter-of-fact, and intelligent in so many ways and it seemed like every time you were with him, you learned something new. He taught you so much but never in a way that made you feel stupid or less than. Riki was so gracious. The days you came to him with an attitude or some sort of edge in your tone, he never matched you. Just leveled you out. Kissed you when you wanted to be kissed, hugged when you wanted to be hugged; and never once did he make you feel bad for not wanting either.

It made you want to ask, what are we doing? What am I to you? But your throat tightened around the words. Because what if he didn’t have an answer? What if asking was the very thing that ruined the ease you’d built together?

You called him your man. He called you his woman. But there was never an actual discussion of any sort of title. It weighed on you more than you’d like to admit.

You flung Blue’s frisbee across the yard, letting it fly over the fence and into the neighbor’s property. “Oh shit…” Cursing to yourself as you looked at Blue, who sat by the fence—head tilted in confusion.

“What happened, baby? Is everything okay?” Riki’s voice came through, laced with concern.

You huffed a laugh, dragging a hand down your face. “Your son is about to riot ‘cause I just sent his favorite toy over the fence.”

He chuckled softly. “Damn. That’s okay, I’ll just get a new one for him when I get back.”

You scoffed, “that’s stupid as fuck. I’ll just go ask for it back.”

“You’re really about to knock on somebody’s door over a slobbery frisbee?” he teased.

“Yes, because unlike you, I don’t have rich-man logic. Things cost money, Riki.”

His laugh rumbled through the line, warm and lazy. “Like three dollars,”

“I’m gonna clean his paws, then I’m going to get it.” You walked to the backdoor, opening it for the big golden retriever.

“Do you need me on the phone?”

You grabbed Blue’s wipes and crouched to clean him. “For what?” You asked, scrubbing Blue’s paws as he squirmed like you were torturing him.

“So you don’t get kidnapped over a frisbee,” Riki deadpanned, though you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You rolled your eyes, grinning despite yourself. “Yeah, because suburban kidnappers are just lurking, waiting for me to ask politely for dog toys back.”

“Baby, you’d be surprised,” he said, snickering now. “I’d rather hear you annoyed on the phone than not hear from you at all.” The earnestness in his tone made your hand still on Blue’s paw. You shook it off with a laugh. “You’re so dramatic, Riki. You moved here.”

“Yeah, to keep you safe from all the suburban kidnappers,” he teased, but his voice had that undertone again—the one that he put on when it was Halloween and he spent nearly the entire day trying to spook you. “Where they snatch you up, then put you in a box and ship you right into my loving, caring arms.”

You grunted as you stood up, “you’re a loser.” Going back through the back door so as not to track dirt in the house. “I’m gonna go grab it now, okay? I’ll call you later.”

“Mhm,” he said calmly. “Call me before bed, my love. Make sure you get your schoolwork done on time.” As doting as Riki was, he did a great job of keeping you in line. Ensuring that you did everything you needed to—and vice versa. But Riki was so disciplined that you never actually needed to remind him to do anything. He just always did.

“Of course. See you,”

“Later,”

You hung up.

You walked onto the porch of the neighbor. While you had seen some of the neighbors in the morning—which made sense. You’d be off to your morning classes as the kids would be off to school, parents and adults heading to their respective workplaces. Yet somehow, you never met this neighbor.

The lawn was manicured perfectly as a result of the teen boys around the block that they’d paid to do it for them.

Riki did his himself, which was always a fun little sight.

However, the house looked like all the others so…nothing sketchy or weird. Thus, you rang the doorbell and waited patiently for someone to answer it. When they did, your eyes fell upon an older woman—could be in her seventies or so—which would make sense why you hardly saw her. She’s retired—must be. Her eyes were like chocolate—homely. Her skin was a gorgeous color of bronze as her curly, silver hair was brushed up into a ponytail. Then when she saw you, her eyes got brighter. “Hi, how are you?”

You could only smile back, face warm at how adorable she was. “Good evening, miss. I’m so sorry to bother you but my dog’s frisbee flew into your yard. I was hoping to get it back?”

The old lady pouted, brows furrowing a bit. “Your dog? I’ve never seen you around here before.”

“Oh, sorry,” you bowed your head with a small laugh. “I’m Riki’s—”

Her eyes brightened even more if it was possible. “Oh yes! Riki, the young man next door, right there?” She pointed to her left, where the house was.

You nodded, “yes ma’am, there.”

“Oh I didn’t know he had a dog sitter. He should’ve told me so that I could’ve prepared something. I love to make sure he’s okay—him and his puppy. They’re both such sweethearts.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that exactly. Dog sitter.

Her bright smile settled into something gentler, thoughtful. “They really are, those two. I see him out there every morning, rain or shine, walking that dog. He’s a good one, that boy.”

You blinked, caught off guard by how warmly she spoke about him, like that was her own grandson. Which anyone could take to Riki—because she was right. He was a sweetheart. But it wasn’t that he was so beloved that threw you off.

“Anyway,” she clapped her hands once, pushing herself straighter. “Why don’t you wait here? I’ll go grab that frisbee for you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

But she was already shuffling off, humming to herself, leaving you standing there with your heart knocking harder than it should’ve.

—

The day Riki got back was a fun one. You and Blue were laid on the couch, cuddling as you were enthralled in some old episode of Teen Wolf. The house was spotless as you ran out of things to do, so you just cleaned. So while Pine-Sol filled your nose and the spring breeze circulated throughout the house, you saw Blue’s head perk up.

Turning to him, you rubbed his head. “What’s wrong, boy?” Blue ran off the couch and toward the front door—sitting patiently as he stared at it. Growls rumbling through his chest.

You heard steps up the porch, maybe it was the mailman or something. But until you heard fiddling with keys at the door. Okay so no one besides you and Riki had a key to his house at the moment—but you heard whoever it was on the other side of the door struggling to open it.

Grunting in exasperation, you got up and jogged to the door—opening it without checking through the peephole. Lo and behold there was your best friend—bags in his hand and hair ruffled, slight eyes bags from a very long day. Looking at you with a self-deprecating smile. “Sorry, I almost forgot how to work my door. It’s—”

You cut him off with a hug, jumping into his arms. His bags thudded to the floor as he stumbled back a step but caught you easily, arms circling your waist like they’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“You’re home early,” you breathed into his shoulder, the words muffled but so full of relief you almost startled yourself.

His laugh rumbled low against your chest, warm and tired. “Miss me that bad, huh?”

You nuzzled your face in his shoulder, eyes closed as you never thought a week without him would be as hard as it was. The phrase ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ couldn’t be more true; fully resonating with you in a way that felt deeper than just you both being busy and having different schedules.

Every moment that you two spent was much more precious.

—

He was up late, working on one of the sketches and blueprints—the same one he’d be doing for weeks that he just couldn’t get through. He knew it was another urban development, but he couldn’t help but feel like there was no differentiation from the ones he’s done before. That when he’d present them to the higher-ups they’d like it. But he wasn’t satisfied—never. Or even when he’d try something new, they’d reject him. Saying it was too ambitious, too kitschy or impractical. Riki felt he had no freedom, which ultimately led him to his decision of starting his own firm—LLC pending. But today, the fire, the passion he’d otherwise be feeling for his career and lifelong dream just wasn’t there.

You couldn’t sleep either, typical thoughts of a partial life crisis. Who were you? What were you here for? All of those silly little things. Looking to your right, closest to the door—Riki wasn’t next to you and you figured he was beating himself up trying to do literally anything behind that desk. So you got up, bonnet, bralette and pajama pants in tow—and padded over to his office down the hall. Last door on the left. You didn’t bother knocking.

He didn’t even look up. “Why aren’t you asleep, beautiful?” Eyes bugged, pencil in hand, his head held up by his free hand while it clutched his silky dark hair in it.

“Because you aren’t,” you whispered, you smiled softly as you tiptoed over to him. But he leaned up and looked at you—eyes instantly softening at the sight of your cute attire. His arm comes out, inviting you to sit in his lap. An opportunity you seized. Sliding right into his lap and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Working?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He leaned in, kissing your shoulder gently. “Some stuff for this new development. Few cities away.” Rubbing your thigh comfortably, he points to the sketches and scrap paper cluttering his desk. “I’m just stumped though. Drained. Tired. Not really feeling any of it.”

“Oh…poor baby.” You pout as you turn your attention back to him. Eyes meeting his as the moonlight casts a smidgen of light across his glasses. Holding his cheek, tilting his head back as you kissed his lips gently, lingering just long enough to make him sigh into it.

“You know,” you murmured, pulling back just enough to search his face, “even if you never drew another line, you’d still be the smartest, most brilliant man I’ve ever known.”

His eyes seemed to sparkle beneath his frames. “You think so?” Smiling softly as his hand stroked your collarbone—sending ripples of goosebumps through you.

You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Shut up, I know so. Anyone can say what they want, but in that boardroom, at this desk, with this pencil, and even without it—you’re a visionary.”

He giggled, burying his face into your shoulder. “You’re so cheesy, my love.”

“I love cheese. Parmesan, cheddar—”

Riki squeezed you to his chest, blowing raspberries to your neck. “Shut up,”

“Gruyère…” You massage his scalp, letting your acrylic nails give him comfort. “As a matter of fact, show me something.”

He teased, kissing your neck softly. His hand running down your back. “About cheese?”

“No, dingus.” You tilted your head down to kiss his forehead. “Take a break from this, and show me something about your job. Remind me of your passion because I really don’t know what the fuck you do.”

He drew back, face plagued with confusion. “What? My job funds your life and day-to-day and you don’t know—”

You wave your hand, “no, no—” your own laugh cuts you off. “I know what you do, I just…I was around to see it passively. Not to know what you really do.”

“Okay, baby, let me show you what Papa Bear really does.” He spins you both around in the chair as he scoots forward to bring you two closer to the desk.

“I’m so down, but don’t call yourself Papa Bear ever again.”

—

Every moment you two spent was precious now—and as you clung to him, you remembered the last night you realized just how much you needed him. And loved having him around. “Mhm…I’ve missed you so much…Papa Bear.”

Riki squeezed you tighter as you wrapped your legs around him, leaning down—mildly squatting—to grab his bags and walk in the house with you on him like a koala. But he didn’t mind. He was beaming. “I knew you’d take up the name eventually.” Then, he crossed the threshold briskly, like you weighed nothing. “Hi, Baby Blue.”

Blue whined a little, tongue out in excitement as he jumped up on his hind legs to greet his owner. Nails scratching against the floor like usual but of course, dogs have no concept of time. They just know that their person was gone—every moment without them felt the same. Whether it was a day, a week, a month—it all blurred and felt like forever. You never thought you’d ever relate to a golden retriever until now. “Don’t steal my name for him.”

Riki placed you down gently, ensuring you landed on both feet. “Yeah, yeah.” Then, and only then was he able to really look at you. His smile softened a bit as he held your face in his hands. stroking your cheeks with his thumbs as he inspected you kindly. His eyes glazed over your features. Your skin, your eyes, how everytime you looked at him it was like the first day. “I missed you too, baby.” He says, voice rumbling lowly in the foyer. Pressing his lips onto yours before you can respond. Carefully cradling your face as both of your lips danced across the others. Riki ran his hands down your arms, rubbing them up and down when he reached your elbow. You traced his jaw into the kiss as he quietly moaned into the exchange before pulling back. “Before I eat you alive,” he smiled and yanked you to him playfully—eliciting a laugh from you. “I’m gonna shower first, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded. “I made some spaghetti today. Want me to heat some up for you?” Peppering kisses on his jaw as you embraced him again, you sighed as you reveled in his warmth. Like the sun, he gave you that, plus energy.

The only thing about the sun was that it was so perfectly placed. Everything about its positioning was beneficial for all life. All species. But its purpose was to warm, to light, to provide for everyone it touched. But really think of its wonders, if the sun is too far back, we die. If it’s too close, we die. To you, Riki was like the sun. Not in the regard of needing him to live—though he made that easy. But he was calm in his orbit. He gave and gave and gave, yet never expected anything in return aside from being his moon. That was the only condition. And when he smiled at you, your whole world tilted just to catch a glimpse.

“Spaghetti sounds perfect,” he murmured against your temple, pulling away just enough to kiss you one last time before stepping back. “But I’m serious, baby. I need that shower before I do something reckless.”

You watched him pad toward the stairs, tugging at his shirt as if he couldn’t get it off fast enough. Your chest ached at the sight—at the thought of the space he was about to put between you, even just for twenty minutes.

“Don’t be long,” you called, your voice softer than you meant it to be.

He glanced over his shoulder with that boyish grin, the one that made your knees weak. “Not a chance.”

—

After the buzz died down, you got to thinking. Which has either been the contributor to your biggest feat or the cause for literally every last problem you have.

The other day bugged you. While you got to understand the older woman—you were young. You certainly look your age, though you’ve gotten younger from some people. But was it so unbelievable that you and Riki could be more? The ‘my dog’ thing was enough for her to maybe connect the dots, right? You remember exactly what you said. You said, ‘...my dog’s frisbee flew into your yard.’ Not saying that you were Blue’s real owner, but at this point, Riki did bestow the dog mom title unto you.

Were you delusional? Were you thinking entirely too deeply into this that you were psyching yourself out? Fuck other people and what they thought, they didn’t matter. But you could read between the lines.

“What’s wrong?” Riki’s calm voice broke you out of your introspection as you both lied in his king-sized bed. “You’ve been quiet entirely too long and it’s worrying me…” He singsonged the last half of the sentence, tangling his legs with yours as he squeezed your waist.

You exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling. “Do people…not take us seriously?”

His brows furrowed, lips parting like he wasn’t sure he heard you right. “What do you mean?”

“The neighbor lady, the one next door with the blue house.” You admitted, finally turning to face him. “She thought I was just your dog sitter. And I guess I just—I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like to everyone else, I’m just…temporary. Like I’m here but not really yours.”

Riki smiled, letting out a small laugh. “Oh, Mrs. Bennett? Don’t mind her, she’s just an older lady, babe.” He shrugged, brushing it off—hoping to make you feel better.

“But…don’t you think there might be some sort of wisdom? Like what she’s saying might have some truth to it…” You fiddled with your tennis bracelets, circling the link with your fingerpads.

The older man’s smile faltered as he felt his stomach drop. Not again. That doubt—your doubt. The one that was somehow always an overarching issue in your relationship. Earlier on, it sucked. But he got it. He understood. After thoroughly speaking about it in your pastimes, it was intense and the immediate attraction was scary—but he was better at looking at it head on. For what it was. He liked you but he felt he was pressuring you and laying too much on the table so soon. Which is exactly why you guys are moving at the pace you’ve been for the last six months. Which is why he says: “Truth…? Like…that you’re just some short-term thing?” He shakes his head in disbelief, bile nearly coming up in his throat. “Do I make you feel that way?”

You frowned, sitting up in the bed as you hugged your knees to your chest. “No…yes? N—ye—I don’t know, I…” Sighing, you buried your head in your lap.

Riki leans up too, mirroring your distressed expression. Reaching to turn on the bedside lamp and feel for his glasses. Sliding them on and adjusting his vision to the light. Pupils focusing now as he looked at you. “What is it?” He said quietly as he switched off the TV. “You can talk to me…you know that.”

“It’s just…” you sighed as you lifted your head, eyes averting his—and he let you have it. In your mind, it was your shield. Not looking at him protected you in some way. “I wonder…about so many things and it’s not just what Mrs. Bennett said.” You took a minute to find your words—pausing for a beat. “I worry about me, you, our ages, our…relationship. And I try not to let it get to me and just enjoy the moment…enjoy you and the time we spend with each other.” You gesture between the both of you. “And it fucks me up because I feel like it’s always me having issues and stirring the pot, you know?”

He shrugs one shoulder, “I’ll spend as long as I have to reassure you then. You’re not asking for the world—and if you were I’d still find a way to give you that—but…you just want clarity. If I can shush those little nuisances in your head then I will. That’s no issue for me.”

“I just don’t want you wasting time on something that might not even go anywhere.” You shrug, shaking your head as tears form despite your effort to not cry.

Riki’s eyes widened, his lips parted just enough to really gauge the shock on his face. But he let you speak.

“You’re this…big wig architect-investor person. You’re intelli—you’re a fucking genius. Good looking, a good person. You’ve accomplished so much and you’re only twenty-seven. I’m a…regular college student…and twenty-one. My biggest accomplishment is just making the Dean’s List and having good grades.”

He looks at you intently, his expression serious. “And you think all that makes me out of your league or something? That I’m too good for you?” His voice catches slightly at the end, again—showing how much this affects him.

You leaned your back against the massive headboard. “You should want someone your age. On your level. A woman that can challenge you and give you the things I can’t.” As you look back down, the tears finally make their way as well. “This…connection isn’t sustainable.”

Riki’s face falls, and for the first time, he looks genuinely hurt. The vulnerability in his eyes is stark from the mask he usually puts on. “So what are you saying? That this…has an expiration date because you think I’m too old for you?”

“You’re twenty-seven,” you sigh, lip quivering as you still teeter with your bracelet. “You’re gonna want kids soon and I’ll still be in my early twenties.”

He stares at you, aghast and puts his hands up as to say flag on the play. “Woah. Woah woah woah. My love, who said anything about kids?”

You sniff, wiping at your face. “It’s math, Riki. You’re closer to thirty than I am to twenty-five. People think in timelines. I’m saying the obvious because you’re gonna want these things sooner. Whether you say it aloud or not, it’s subconscious.”

He laughed, not loudly, but in disbelief. “So you’re a mind reader now?” Throwing his hands up in confusion.

“The big ass house with multiple rooms, huge yard space…the golden retriever—that’s literally a fucking family dog. Living in a neighborhood with a bunch of other families. Riki…all you’re waiting for is the perfect woman.”

Again, he combats you. “And what if I feel that’s you?”

You get out of the bed, heading to the door as you make the left down the hallway—to the stairs. “It’s not…I’m not. And I won’t be.”

His expression turns serious, firm but not menacing as he follows behind you. “So…let me get this straight…you’re breaking up with me because you think our relationship has no future? Because you’re scared I’ll outgrow you or want more than you can give?” You don’t give him an answer but keep walking forward. Somehow this hallway seems way longer than normal. “C’mere.”

You shake your head. “No, Riki.” And just as you reach the top of the banister he gently grabs your hand, effectively stopping you. His expression was fearful but…worked up. This is the first time you’ve seen this man be upset in a way that falls on the spectrum of anger. He swallows hard, his voice lower and slower. “You know what your problem is?”

You brace yourself for his words—hoping they’re not harsh. They never are but you’re afraid of being reminded that Riki is just another man—for real this time. “Tell me.”

“You’re so fucking scared of the future that you’re pushing away the best thing that could ever happen to you.” His voice cracks slightly. “You’re leaving me before you think I could leave you because you’re terrified to believe it might last.” He steps closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“When I look at you…I see a…radiant, intelligent, charming, amazing woman who’s too fucking scared to let someone love her.” His jaw clenches. “I see a woman who’s so fucked up and damaged that she can’t believe someone actually wants her.” His eyes mist as he steps back, letting your hand go. You hadn’t realized he was still holding it. “So go ahead, push me away. Tell me I’m too old, too much for you. But know this…” He tilts his head and looks up at the ceiling to control his tears. “I loved every single second with you. Every last one. And even before all of this—the moment I saw you—I knew in my heart that you were it for me. We had those issues the first two weeks but…” His chest convulses a bit, sobs emitting as you stare at him in shock. Silently crying yourself.

“I was patient. I waited. And I fought. I fought for you because I knew—you think I’m lying? I told you in my car on our first date that I. Trust. My. Instincts.” He said firmly as he poked his own chest. “I knew. And I trusted that eventually you’d know too and I’m sorry for putting so much on you so soon. I’m so sorry for that—you didn’t need that and I’m trying to fix it. But…” he sniffled as he wiped his eyes again. “Please…my heart can’t take any more. It’s…it hurts.” His voice gives. “But at this point…I’d rather have my heart ripped out of my chest by you than never have had you at all.” Riki chokes out, voice breaking so loud it sounds like it might crack the wood banister. He swallows, cheeks wet, and for a second he looks like the kid who learned to build forts out of shoeboxes and then watched them get knocked down—except now the fort is his whole heart and you’re standing at the top of the stairs—holding one of the boxes he used to build it.

The world tilts. You weren’t expecting this—the raw thing, the shame-free sobbing, the man who usually keeps everything measured becoming unmade in front of you. Guilt and something softer and prickle-y squeeze through your chest.

“Riki, I’m sorry. I don’t wanna be like this. You think that I dream about making your days difficult when all I’ve ever wanted was to have good ones with you?! But I’m stuck in this limbo of—” You sob out, holding yourself and rubbing your arms to self soothe.

“What? Limbo of what?! I’ve been nothing but straight with you, baby.”

“That I don’t know what we are!”

Riki’s puffy eyes narrowed, leaning forward like he was wondering if you shapeshifted into someone else. Like he didn’t know who he was speaking to. “You have a key to my home, you—you spent days here. I can’t even remember the last time you were at your own apartment. I call you Blue’s Mom. My love, what type of lim—”

You sniffled, just letting the tears fall at this juncture, not even caring to wipe them if they were just going to keep coming out. “All it’s ever been was ‘relationship’ or ‘connection,’ you know? You treat me like a fucking wife without having ever claimed me, Riki!”

“Because I thought you knew! I thought—I call you my woman. You call me your man. I thought that was—” Riki scrambles for words, throat tight. “—what mattered. I didn’t realize that words weren’t enough for you. I thought showing up was the language.”

You hiccup, angry at the hurt and embarrassed you caused, and softer because Jesus, he’s actually hurting. “Showing up is great, Riki. It’s everything. But I need the part where people outside of this room know too.”

“I don’t even know a lot of people,” he laughed incredulously through his tears. “Baby you’re my woman. My girlfriend. We’re together and still, even when you’re pissing me off—I just want you to be happy. Our future…is something we can plan for now but you’re just assuming things—saying things that you think I want without ever running them by me! Plus, it’s only been six months. I have plans for my future, yes because I’m me, but you’d be silly to think that I haven’t pictured you in them.” Riki’s tears dried, sticking to his face as the moonlight from the floor to ceiling windows illuminated his features. He raised his hands, framing your face. “I think we’re a lot more aligned than you think. We just haven’t spoken about it yet because we haven’t gone there yet.”

Your breathing mellows out as the hot, salty liquid still comes down in buckets. “Do you want kids?”

He shrugs as he drops his hands back to his side, “I wish children well.” You let out a wet laugh at his flippant response, holding your head despite yourself.

“Seriously…I’m in no rush for them. And say you want kids by thirty, I’ll be thirty-seven and that also doesn’t bother me.” He looks around, shaking his head slightly before looking back at you. “If you love someone, you’re willing to wait. I don’t care as long as I’m with you.”

For a beat the world narrows to the two of you—the banister, the moonlight, the wet stripe down his cheek. You can hear your heart like a dumb cartoon drumline and for once the thing in your chest that always talks you out of everything is nothing but static.

You want to make some clever joke, deflect with sarcasm, call him a liar, make him prove it. Instead, your mouth opens and the first thing that comes out is small and ridiculous and absolutely, completely true.

“You—what did you just say?” you whisper, because the enormity of it has to be tasted twice.

“I said I love you, baby,” he repeats, voice raw and steady on the second pass. “Fuck. I’m in love with you.”

You feel like someone just handed you a match in the dark and you’re not sure whether to burn the map or build a fire. Fear flickers—he’s said big things before and people mean different things by them—but the way he looks at you now, all cracked vulnerability and earnestness, pushes something in you to the surface.

“And you were right with the house thing, that I got this just so the perfect woman would come along but…she did.” He whispered, holding his heart as he looked at you—moonlight glistening in his eyes. “You might not think I do but I listen. You’ve wanted stability that guys your age can’t give you. A mature, grown, adult love. I can give you that. I’ve always wanted someone to choose me. And I hate to admit it because it sounds pathetic as fuck and I hate to have you hear this because I don’t want to guilt trip you but I need you to know.” His breath is labored again. “I’ve never been anyone’s first choice. I’ve longed for connection and for someone to love me the way I could love them back. And you did…” He blubbered, “you did, baby, you did. And I’ve done everything in my power to control everything in my life because it’s easier than admitting that I just wanna be chosen. Earnestly.”

You slow, because his words are big and soft and stupid and perfect all at once. Your chest tightens like an overstretched spring—the part of you that has been braced for disappointment all your life wants to curl up and hide, but another part—a small, reckless part you don’t get to indulge often—wants to throw itself at him and stop thinking. “I do. I choose you. But I—” He opened his mouth to say something but you shook your head. “I wanna be with you and I’m sorry because I feel like I don’t tell you that but…” You lick your lips of the salty tears. “Riki, I really fucking love you. Like...adore you.” You roll your eyes.

“Gosh, I adore you.” You sniffle. “And you’re so kind and honest and sweet and gentle and warm that being with you feels like home. You’re such a fucking loser and a nerd when you yap about your job and the geek comes out. It’s so fucking cute and I hate it. I love how you’re such a role model for me. I love that you push me to explore other avenues and lanes and support me. I love who I am with you. and I...love you. So much, you don’t understand. and I hate that I'm crying and making this fuss because I’m so attached to you and you make me feel so many things that I can’t handle.”

“I can’t handle it and it scares the shit out of me. How I love your dog. I love your house. I love how you make my life easier. I just love you. And I hate when I don’t treat you accordingly. You do everything to make sure I’m okay even at your own expense. You’re…so selfless and…” Tears fall over your eyes. “You’re just...the kindest, most beautiful and genuine person I’ve known in my life. I don’t ever want you to not know how utterly crazy I am about you.” You rest your hands on his biceps. “And I know when I’m done with this, you’re just gonna find a way to make me feel better still because that’s just you.” You shrug a shoulder. “So I choose you. I love you. I’m tired of running, baby. You got me. You won.”

The words hang between you, bright and vulnerable, and for a second the world is nothing but the two of you and the thin sliver of moonlight on the banister. Riki lets out a sound that’s part laugh, part sob, and it breaks something open in him. He reaches for you like he’s been given permission to breathe again.

He sweeps you up—no hesitation, like an instinct—and holds you to his chest so tight you can feel the steady thud of his heartbeat against your face. “You have no idea what that does to me,” he murmurs into your hair, voice raw and small. “You have no idea.” His thumb strokes the back of your head in a slow, steady circle. “God, I love you.”

You hiccup a laugh between tears, arms locked around his waist. “I love you too, Papa Bear.”

For a moment, neither of you move. His chest rises and falls against yours like he’s afraid the air might shatter what just happened. Then his hands—still trembling—come up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing away the tears he’s caused and healed in the same night.

When he kisses you, it isn’t hungry. It’s steady. Patient. Like he’s been waiting for permission and finally got it. You melt because there’s no question left in it, no limbo—just Riki.

—

You forget how much Riki actually knew about you. How much he listened and minded everything you said. And it wasn’t until now, that you were in his bed that you were reminded of it. As well as how much of a grown man he was.

The two of you kissed ferociously beneath the covers of his bed. The warmth from both of your bodies and the bed only igniting other parts of you. Or in you, rather.

As your tongues danced with each other, you grabbed his hair, sliding your hands between his shiny, strong locks. Tugging them slightly, eliciting a whimper from him. “Fuck…”

Sex was never…not on the table between you. Something you both thought about but never brought up. Simply fearing that there just might’ve not been a right time. But there never was. Riki broke the kiss, panting as he smiled—biting his lip as he stared down at you. He settled between your legs and moved his hands up and down your stomach and chest. “You’re so pretty…” His hands hadn’t let up off your skin. They moved down to your thighs instead. “Do you just…” He shrugs with a joking, yet self-deprecating smile, throwing a hand up in curiosity. “Wanna have sex or something?” Waving his hand like it wasn’t a big deal. Like he didn’t propose a monumental step in your relationship.

“Bro…” you cover your face to smother your laughter. Wheezing slightly at how awkward of an ask that was. But somehow, his straightforwardness and faux facetious manner turned you on more than you’d like to admit. “You know what? Hell yeah.” You tried to pull him back down gently but he resisted.

“Okay, sounds great.” He snorted, his smile widening as he moved your hands to his lips. Peppering kisses along your fingers and palms, you giggled yourself—enjoying how playful he was being. Though this was short-lived.

Eye contact still as steady as ever, he wrapped his warm, wet tongue around your right middle and ring fingers. Your laughter died in your throat the second his tongue dragged over your fingers, slow and deliberate. He kept eye contact like he was daring you to say something, to break first. “Still funny?” he mumbled around your fingers, voice dropping. You swallowed hard, the warmth between your legs answering before you could. He moved your other hand to your core—guiding you to palm yourself through your shorts. You gasped, feeling your body give to him—fully; in totality, not just halfway or with fear behind it. But you couldn’t speak, you physically couldn’t the harder he sucked. So you shook your head. That was all you could give him right now.

He let your fingers go with a wet pop, “gonna show you how a real man fucks—a grown one.” He leans down to remove your shirt and shorts, so quickly that you blinked and they were nowhere to be seen. “I can’t wait to make you cum on my dick, mama,” He whimpers desperately as he grinds his clothed cock against the thin fabric of your cotton underwear. Holding himself up on one hand that was rested by your head. Sending chills through your body, you both shudder at the friction. Neither of you have felt any sort of touch for entirely too long. Your hands reach down to pull his tank top over his head. He followed through and even slid his sweatpants off.

As soon as you looked down, your eyes bulged out of their sockets. “What the fuck…”

Riki feigned innocence, mocking you. “What happened?”

His cock was engorged, which you expected and…hoped but…Riki was, like, comically large. And despite his black briefs, his print was extremely visible in this dark room. Though the cherry on top was his tip sticking out of the top of his waistband.

Your eyes shot back up to his face, and he was smirking—of course he was—but there was a flicker underneath it, something softer, nervous even. His thumb dragged slowly over the swollen head where it peeked out, like he was showing you proof. “Why you look so scared, mama?” he taunted, voice low and husky, “thought you wanted a grown man.”

You swallowed, heat rushing down your spine. “That’s not a man, that’s a…a flight risk.” He laughed, but it was shaky, and when he leaned closer, his lips brushed your ear like a confession. “Just…don’t freak out on me, yeah? I’ve only ever wanted this with you.” He kissed down your chest, flicking his tongue over your bare nipple. “Plus…I have a few more rounds to make.” Taking it into his mouth as he swirled his tongue around your peaks. Making your hips jut up into his chiseled stomach. You wanted friction anywhere you could get it.

“Riki…” you sucked in a sharp breath, running your hands down his broad shoulders and digging your fingers into his flesh.

His free hand moved down to your hips to cease your movements. “Okay, okay…” You had never seen this side of Riki before—so sexy, confident, playful. Sex can either bring out the best or worst in someone. And he seemed to be at his best. Without another word, he slid your panties down and lifted your legs up as he spread them apart. “Your pussy so fucking beautiful, oh my god. I haven’t eaten pussy in years.” Pushing your legs up to your chest, he didn’t waste another second before bringing his face down to your folds. Flicking his tongue around your clit in an attempt to make you beg for more.

Parting your lips, it hurt Riki to tease you even for a second. He didn’t even want to make you beg, he just wanted to taste you.

Riki groaned against your folds, the sound vibrating straight into your core. His hands gripped the backs of your thighs like he was anchoring himself, like if he let go you’d float away. He pulled back just far enough to look up at you, lips already glistening.

“Fuck, mama—taste better than I dreamed.” His words were muffled by the curve of your thigh, but his eyes were clear, locked on yours like he needed you to know he meant every word.

You whimpered, heat coiling in your belly. “You…you dreamed about this?”

He smirked, but the way his voice cracked on the next words betrayed him. “Every night. And I’m not stopping until you’re shaking on my tongue.”

And then he buried his face in you again, hungrier this time—no more hesitation, no more teasing. Like he’d been starving and finally, finally got a taste.

His tongue flattened against your clit, dragging in long, deliberate strokes that made your spine arch off the mattress. He groaned like he couldn’t help himself, like the taste of you was everything he’d been missing, and the sound vibrated through you until you were gasping. “Riki—oh my god—” you whined, hands flying to his hair, tugging at the strands like you didn’t know whether to pull him closer or push him away.

He didn’t care either way—his grip on your thighs was iron, keeping you spread wide while he buried his face deeper, licking and sucking like a man who hadn’t eaten in years. “Fuck, baby, you’re dripping for me,” he moaned against your cunt, every word sticky and muffled, “can’t—can’t stop.”

Your hips jerked, desperate for more friction, but he already had you pinned, devouring you like it was the last meal he’d ever get. His tongue flicked circles around your clit before dipping low, pushing into you with wet, greedy strokes. You cried out, thighs trembling, but he just hummed like your squirming only made him hungrier.

“Riki, I—ah, fuck, I can’t—” He pulled back just enough to breathe, lips shiny, chest heaving. “Yes, you can. You’re gonna cum for me. Right on my tongue.” And before you could even protest, he latched back onto your clit, sucking hard, tongue pressing quick and rough until stars burst behind your eyes.

Your body jolted—hips bucking despite his hands holding you down—and the wave hit so sudden it ripped a scream out of you. You came hard, thighs shaking uncontrollably around his head, but Riki didn’t stop, didn’t even think to. He groaned low and needy, drinking you down, tongue still lapping like he couldn’t stand to waste a drop. You shoved at his shoulders weakly, whining his name, but he only chuckled darkly against your oversensitive skin. “Nah, baby. Don’t run from it. Been waiting too damn long for this.”

Your breath was still stuttering from the high when Riki finally pulled back, lips slick, jaw shiny in the moonlight. He kissed up your thigh, your stomach, your chest, slow now—like he knew he’d just wrung you out and needed to coax you back to earth before taking you higher.

“You good?” he whispered against your collarbone, voice thick and reverent. He looked almost shy for a second, which would’ve been funny if you weren’t still trembling.

“Y-yeah,” you panted, threading shaky fingers through his hair. “Too good.”

He smirked, but there was something tender behind it. His hand slid down, wrapping around himself as he lined up. You glanced down, throat drying all over again—he was huge, the kind of huge that made you nervous even though you wanted him so bad it hurt.

“Hey,” he murmured, kissing your forehead. “We’ll go slow. I’ll let you get used to me. You just tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

You nodded, nails biting into his shoulders. He pressed in, slow and steady, stretching you inch by inch until your mouth dropped open on a silent moan. He groaned, burying his face in your neck like it was taking everything in him not to move faster.

“Fuck, baby…so tight. So perfect.” His voice was strangled, desperate, but he held still, giving you time. His hand stroked down your side, grounding you. “Breathe for me. You got it.”

And once your body finally relaxed around him, once the sting melted into a deep, dizzy fullness—you whispered, “Okay. Move.”

That’s when he lost it.

The careful control snapped, and his hips surged forward, grinding you into the mattress with a force that made your back arch off the sheets. Every thrust knocked the air from your lungs, the headboard creaking, his name tumbling out of your mouth between cries.

“God, mama,” he groaned, gripping your thighs, folding you deeper into the bed. “You feel too good—I can’t stop. Gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t think straight.”

The air was already thick with your moans when he shifted his grip, dragging your thighs higher up his waist. The new angle made you gasp, your nails raking red lines into his back.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he gritted, watching your face twist with every slow grind. “That’s the spot he couldn’t find, huh? That fucker didn’t even know how to touch you.”

You whimpered, trying to hide your face, but Riki caught your chin and made you look at him. His eyes were burning, raw, all man.

“Look at me,” he growled softly. “I’m not some little boy fumbling in the dark. I know this body—I’ve been memorizing it since the first time you let me kiss you. I know how to make you fall apart. And I’ll prove it every time.”

He pulled almost all the way out, then slammed back in, dragging a ragged cry out of you. The sound made his smirk go feral. “See? That’s what happens when a grown man fucks you right. I’ll give you a reason to take that fucking ring off. I’ll make it worth it, baby—I know what to do.”

Your legs shook, your body caught between too much and not enough. He was relentless now, driving you into the mattress with deep, punishing strokes, but still angled perfectly—making your toes curl, making your chest ache with the sheer force of it.

“Tell me,” he demanded between thrusts, sweat dripping onto your skin. “Tell me I feel better than he ever could.”

“R-Riki—”

“No,” he snapped, kissing you hard, swallowing your moan. When he pulled back, his voice was low, husky, almost pleading. “Say it. I need to hear you say it.”

Your voice broke into sobs of pleasure as you clawed at his shoulders. “Better! You’re—you’re better than anyone. No one’s ever—fuck—no one’s ever made me feel like this.”

That lit him up like gasoline to flame. His pace turned savage, the headboard rattling, his mouth at your ear, whispering filth and devotion in the same breath. “That’s right. Only me. Only your man. Gonna make sure you never even think about anyone else when you’re in this bed.” Biting your earlobe, he whispers, "should've found me first, I would've gave you a reason to really take that fucking ring off."

His thrusts grew harder, deeper, his breath ragged against your skin as if he couldn’t get close enough. Every snap of his hips left you gasping, your body arching up to meet him, desperate for more.

“Fuck—look at you,” he groaned, forehead pressed to yours. “You’re losing your mind for me. Just like you should’ve all along.”

You could barely form words, clutching at his back like you were trying to anchor yourself. “Riki, I—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he whispered fiercely, kissing your wet cheeks. “I’ve got you. I know exactly what you need.”

Your walls fluttered around him, and he felt it—the way your body was begging for release. He slowed down just enough to make you scream in frustration, circling his hips, grinding into your spot until you were trembling. “See?” he smirked breathlessly. “That’s control, mama. A grown man takes his time. Makes sure you get yours before he even thinks about his own.”

The tears came harder, not from sadness but from sheer overwhelming need. You grabbed his face, nails digging into his jaw. “Don’t—don’t let me go alone. I wanna—fuck—I wanna cum with you.”

His expression shattered, pure heat and love mingling in his eyes. “With me?” he rasped. “God, baby…say it again.”

“With you,” you begged, voice breaking. “Please, with you.”

That was all it took. He pulled you tight against him, his thrusts wild now, desperate, like he was chasing down the very core of your soul. The room filled with the sound of skin, gasps, moans, the headboard hitting the wall. “Then hold onto me,” he growled, every muscle straining. “We’ll go together.” He smiled breathlessly as he slowly removed his frames, sliding them over your eyes. “I wanna see you cum just…like…this.”

Your cries mingled, rising higher and higher until you broke first, convulsing around him, dragging him straight over the edge with you. He shouted your name, hips stuttering as he spilled deep, clinging to you like if he let go, the world would end. And when it was over, when the tremors finally stilled, he kissed you like a man undone—slow, reverent, as if every part of him belonged to you now.

The world slowed. Your heart still pounded, your skin slick and buzzing, but Riki didn’t let you move. He kept you pressed to his chest, one big hand smoothing down your spine like he was grounding you both.

“You okay, mama?” he murmured, voice hoarse but soft. He kissed the top of your damp scalp, his lips lingering there. “Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shook your head against him, still trying to catch your breath. “No…you ruined me. But in the best way.”

He chuckled low, but it broke into a sigh, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone to wipe the tears that never fully dried. “Good.” He pulled out gently, immediately wincing at the way you flinched from sensitivity, whispering apologies into your temple as he grabbed a towel from the nightstand. He cleaned you with careful, unhurried hands, like you were fragile, precious. Like this mattered more than anything else. Then he slid back under the covers, wrapping himself around you so your head rested on his bare chest. His heartbeat thumped hard, steady, anchoring you. He tucked the blanket around your shoulders and kissed your forehead.

“Baby?” you whispered after a while, when the silence felt too full.

“Yeah? Oh my gosh I’ll never get over you calling me that.” His voice was already fading with exhaustion, but he was still rubbing circles into your back.

You smiled, in a daze. “I meant it,” you whispered. “I love you.”

His chest expanded under your cheek, like the words physically filled him up. He kissed your crown again and whispered back, almost in disbelief, “Say it one more time.”

“I love you, Riki.”

This time he laughed quietly, holding you tighter. “God, I’m never letting you go. You’re so fucked. Literally and figuratively.”

You shut your eyes, the words sinking into your chest like they’d been waiting there all along. With the faintest smile, you pressed your lips to his collarbone, answering back just as quiet, just as certain—

“I’ll take it.”

He laughed at your little double entendre. And that was the last thing either of you said before sleep claimed you both.

fin.

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