Archive of Our Own

Jo was a cat person through and through. 

It was one of those silly questions that dating apps always asked him when setting up a profile for the first time. Among zodiac signs and if he wanted kids and his thoughts on the political and economic state of the world at the moment. 

Jo always answered cats, cancer, no, and slightly and disproportionately concerned. He hardly matched with anyone who was too superstitious about zodiac signs anyway, but never matched with anyone who didn’t prefer cats. 

Over the countless apps and delirious amounts of profiles Jo had constructed, he never found dates that went past the first one. Maybe it was because of his busy schedule as a master’s student. Maybe it was his need for control and otherwise introverted personality. Or maybe it was because most of the pictures on Jo’s profile were from his high school graduation five years ago. 

All of the above was a contending option too, but Jo didn’t like to dwell on things when they didn’t work out. 

So his most recent account started to collect dust; the stream of matches and messages started to become stagnant as Jo grew increasingly reminded of why he hated these apps in the first place. He wasn’t a hookup type of guy. He wanted something that lasted; a companion, someone to lean on and hold him when he needed it. 

Okay, maybe he was just describing a cat. 

Nonetheless, after his most recent first-date-gone-bad, Jo decided that he wouldn’t settle for someone who didn’t match him in his entirety. He needed to be with someone who saw things the same way as him, filled in the pieces that he couldn’t reach.

Yes, Jo knew that was just the part of his brain that relished control talking, but order was what he was good at. He knew his role in a relationship, what he could offer, what he needed from someone else; all that was left was to find someone who hit every criteria.

Jo’s main priority at the moment was his master’s thesis on a particularly interesting philosophical matter. Philosophy was a difficult subject. Jo would argue that not having clear and concise answers for everything being up to interpretation were the best and worst parts. It drained him, took all the energy he had for his personal life and any interest in trying to foster romantic relationships and just flushed them down the philosophical toilet.

It was late afternoon one Thursday and Jo was tidying up his apartment. Between all of his time working on his masters program, he could hardly afford to clean or dust or quite frankly put any of his things back where they belonged. 

It bothered him, not having enough time or energy to divulge in the parts of his life he had full control over like his apartment and its complexities. In time it would sort itself out again. Jo was a planner, he was thorough. He was resilient and strategic and independent in his problem solving.

While folding some laundry— just the whites, he couldn’t stand the color dulling while being mixed in with the rest of the load— Jo’s phone buzzed on his coffee table. He finished folding a t-shirt before setting it in the laundry basket and lifting up his phone to check the notification. 

Check who’s liked your profile! You might have a new match!

It wasn’t a surprising message. If he were being honest, Jo kind of dreaded seeing it on his screen. It meant he had to open someone’s profile, skim it for anything mildly concerning, look for red flags and alarms, deem them even worthy of being attractive, and maybe—if he was desperate— take a screenshot to send to his neighbor and best friend for advice. 

But something in Jo blossomed like a new hope. It made his fingertips tingle as he opened the otherwise unused dating app to see who it could be.

Laundry could wait.

Jo had to admit, the guy who most recently liked his profile was cute, short platinum blonde hair spiked up to showcase his sharp brows and downturned eyes. He had a dimple in his first picture, a toothy but aloof grin evident on his face as he posed for the camera. He was wearing a black tank top in some sort of mirror selfie. Jo kept swiping to see more. 

The next picture was silly, the guy was leaning against the back of a couch, the camera positioned high above his head, the same downturned eyes peering over thick black glasses. His hair was messily splayed across the couch cushion as he pursed his thick lips with some comedic form of sass. His hair was slightly pink, some toner that was glossy in the lighting like the glistening on his lips.

Okay, so far so good. He was handsome, face angular in a way that Jo was used to being attracted to, but there was still so much softness in his gaze and how his cheeks dimpled. It was…endearing to say the least. 

Jo thumbed down to read his profile. 

Hirota Maki, 19

Full time barista, at home baker, I like shopping and going for long walks…not even joking or trying to be cliché.

Jo stifled a laugh. He had wit and some humor which was refreshing to see for someone of his age. Slightly younger than Jo, not a huge deal, but a lot of maturity happened during college years. It raised some faint red flags for Jo, decorating the corners of his vision with little warnings as he kept reading. 

The rest of this guy’s— Maki’s, profile checked out pretty well. At least by Jo’s standards. He was a homebody, enjoyed going out only with one other person, and had an affinity for baking. He kept a small social circle despite his seemingly huge personality captured within his photos, and he took pride in giving back to the community at soup kitchens. 

He was the kind of guy that Jo’s mother had always told him he’d meet.

Again, so far so good. Jo pressed a few buttons on his phone, capturing the entirety of Maki’s profile in a picture to send to his last line of defense; his best friend. 

Harua was Jo’s neighbor. He was shorter, slightly provocative with his speech, and brash when he cared about the right cause. Like a ticking time bomb in a compressed, vertically challenged body. He was cheery and bright as his usual manner, but incredibly protective and extroverted. 

Harua liked to meddle in business he wasn’t particularly involved with and enjoyed instigating drama whenever they went out just “for the plot”, as he always said. When it came down to the wire however, he was trustworthy and Jo valued his advice much like the philosopher’s he studied, if not more. 

He was the polar opposite of Jo in all the best ways. 

The best part? He lived next door, was elbow-deep in his own research project for his senior year of university in order to graduate himself, so he and Jo commiserated a lot on the struggles of being adult students. 

The text went through instantly, just the image of Maki’s profile and a question mark from Jo to accompany it. Reply bubbles appeared instantaneously, rolling with rhythmic flow as Harua typed his answer on the other side of the line— and the apartment wall.

After a few moments of nothing, Jo resumed folding laundry, one sock after another, into a neat pile in his laundry basket. Sometimes the chores were tedious, but they were also cathartic. They soothed something in his soul that otherwise itched for order. He was getting into the rhythm, one pleat of his dress shirt over the other when-

There was a seismic pounding at Jo’s front door, the wood nearly bursting off of its hinges in time with the rapid sputter of Jo’s heartbeat. He stood in an instant, groveling towards the door to check the peephole. 

On the other side was Harua, foot tapping the tiled floor with impatience. Jo unlatched the deadbolt and pulled his apartment door open, making way for his auburn haired neighbor to practically bound inside. 

“Jo-kun,” he announced, already bee-lining to the kitchen where he opened a cabinet door. The younger man was most definitely looking for snacks, as he usually did when he came over, but his face soured when all he was met with was empty shelving and instant rice packages. The cabinets had been barren for some time, Jo couldn’t cook and barely had time between his classes and assignments to go shopping for food that would just go bad.

“Decided to just show up instead of replying? I was in the middle of folding laundry,” Jo mused, the corner of his lip slightly turning up at Harua’s antics. 

The younger man shut the cabinet with feigned annoyance, moving to instead grab a wrapped candy from the dish on the kitchen island. He unwrapped the cellophane and popped the brown candy into his mouth, humming in confusion when it didn’t taste how he thought it would. 

“You can do laundry but can’t go to the convenience store and buy snacks?” Harua thrummed his nails against the island counter, well manicured and thick by the sounds of the melodic tapping. 

Jo sighed. “Can you just give me advice about what I messaged you about? I don't have a lot of time before I need to work on my master’s thesis.”

Harua rolled his eyes, letting out a huff powerful enough to ruffle his bangs. 

“I guess so.”

Jo moved to sit at the kitchen island with him, watching Haura kick his feet on the barstool while his own rested on the tiled floor. “So?”

Harua rolled the hard candy around his mouth some more, soft suckling sounds filling the small apartment. “Guy seems like a total catch, didn’t peg you to consider someone younger than me.”

Jo merely hummed, the sudden approval washing over his own judgement. 

“I’m willing to look past it because of his interests and hobbies,” he replied, eyes searching the ceiling suddenly.

“What should I do?”

Harua pondered for a moment, index finger tapping his pursed lips in time with the swinging of his legs on the barstool. “I say you match him and see where things go! Can’t lose anything this early on!”

Oh but he could. Jo would find something to lose. Whether it was a fragment of dignity, or pride, or hope for a future relationship, Jo could lose it just by matching with this kid.

He couldn’t control that. Couldn’t control the loss. It could be devastating. But maybe Harua was right. It could also be invigorating. 

“Here I’ll even do it for you before you can psych yourself out of it.” Harua surged forward and grabbed the phone out of Jo’s grasp, bypassing his passcode and tapping around the screen a bit more before returning it. Jo sat, stunned, mouth slightly agape as he accepted the phone back with pinched fingers.

“What did you—“

“Thank me later!” Harua chided, face lit up with excitement, probably vicariously through Jo as he started to head back to the front door of his apartment. 

Jo still sat at the kitchen island, eyes searching his phone screen where the words “New Match: Hirota Maki” filled the screen in red, pulsating letters.

A sort of peculiar warmth crept in his cheeks then, something he wasn’t quite expecting to embrace given the absurdity of his best friend’s actions, but Jo wasn’t complaining. He felt that same tingly sensation in his fingertips, nerve endings alive for the prospects of a new dating app match after being frozen for so long. He was giddy; plain and simple.

Harua stilled for a moment, loitering in the doorway, one foot past the threshold and into the hallway of the apartment complex. He turned to shoot Jo a cheeky smile. 

“By the way, I find it funny you were even considering him, not because of his age, but the fact that he’s a dog person.”

Then the door latched harshly, creaking the hinges just like he had done before, and Harua was gone. 

Jo blinked. Once. Twice. 

Dog person? 

His eyes scanned the screenshot he sent Harua over text message, combing through every single word like it was a treasure hunting codex. 

Hirota Maki, 19

Aquarius, 183 centimeters, prefers dogs over cats

What?

Jo blinked once more, the language suddenly seeming foreign. Low and behold it was the same as his vision refocused, the words “dogs over cats” radiating back at him like a giant slap to the face. 

Fuck, no, that was non-negotiable. Being a dog person was not in the list of things that were passable for qualities when it came to Jo’s ideal type. When he said he wanted someone that completed him, this wasn’t what he meant! He wanted someone agreeable, complimenting his already existing interests, not filling him whole with complete opposites!

Besides, dog people were…strange. They prioritized their pets in a way that made them seem human, worshiping them and bringing them anywhere in public where they damn pleased. That behavior translated into their personas, inconsiderate and inconveniencing everyone with boisterous ideologies. They were usually the type of person that Jo despised most. 

Jo was scrambling, fingers pressing wildly on every option in the dating app’s settings, looking somewhere, anywhere for a place he could unmatch this kid. It was crucial for preventing disaster. Jo could rationalize it as a way of preventing them from wasting each other's time. Clearly Maki had missed the pictures of Jo’s childhood cat in his profile and where he had written “cats over dogs”. Not being thorough and comprehensive was also a red flag! Another reason for Jo to unmatch him as quickly as possible. 

Except…he couldn’t. That was why this app had such high ratings, users couldn’t unmatch another profile unless they needed to report or ban the account. Jo wasn’t that desperate— or an asshole enough to do such a thing. He sat back into the barstool with a heavy sigh, shoulders deflating in on themselves in defeat. 

Then, like clockwork, his phone hissed back to life. A direct message from the dating profile. It was Maki, illuminating Jo’s screen like he didn’t just try to unmatch him mere seconds before. 

“Want to grab something to eat tomorrow night? I’d love to get to know you and learn more about your thesis topic.” 

Then there was an intricate winking emoticon that Jo wasn’t sure how he managed to even get some of those characters on his phone keyboard. 

Well, he could cross thoroughness and comprehension skills off of his cons list. Maki had apparently taken enough care to dig through Jo’s lengthy profile enough to pick out his small segment on his master’s thesis about the philosophical ‘loving struggle’ complex by Karl Jaspers. That in itself should have scored some brownie points if not held back by the fact that Maki was still not a cat person. 

Jo was being stubborn. He knew that. He knew that placing all this weight on a silly difference between the two to the point where it could ruin their relationship before it even started was crass and immature. 

Yet it was something he could control, something he had power over that made him feel like he wasn’t being picky after all. 

After all the time that Jo had been on dating apps already, he wasn’t in the mood to cut corners on a boundary for one person. He respected himself and his needs that much. 

But…Maki’s smile was soft and plush and his eyes were droopy and dazed with the aloofness of a puppy. He was tall, helped out the less fortunate and seemed to be really mindful about things he didn’t understand.

It wasn’t that Jo didn’t like dogs, or puppies, or anything in between. He truthfully didn’t mind them most of the time. Sometimes the barking and the occasional slobber of someone else’s dog was intolerable, but most of the time they were endearing. He just always felt more drawn to cats and their dynamic, their attitudes and personalities.

Jo could give Maki a chance, right?

That was how he ended up here, leaning against the outside of a local tavern, the collar of his pea coat popped to ward off the chill of the evening air on his cheeks. He had hooked his chin into the neckline of his gray wool turtleneck, the fabric scratching at his top lip every time he moved his head to scan his surroundings for his date. 

He took a chance on this guy, surely Maki wouldn't stand him up? 

Jo exhaled, watching over the rectangular frames perched on the tip of his nose as the gust of his breath condensed into a warm fog against the mid autumnal air. His black dress shoe tapped into the concrete beneath him, just waiting for the other party to show up. 

He wasn’t exceptionally early, just got ready in his apartment so fast out of apprehension that he had no choice but to arrive in a ceremonious fashion. Jo had been waiting for a while though, well past the scheduled meeting time, and his hands grew clammy in the pockets of his pea coat as he braced himself for the worst. 

Another tick on the cons list; tardiness was immature and not something Jo could allow on his strict list of qualities for a perfect match. 

Just when he was about to call it quits, throw in the towel and retreat back to his apartment to eat ice cream in silent solidarity with Harua while he kept the taller company; a figure showed up in front of Jo. 

Panning his vision upward, Jo’s eyes focused on the newcomer. He was about a centimeter shorter than Jo, made up by the thick rubber sole of his black combat boots, long and baggy jeans pooling around his ankles in a way that was too fashionable to not be purposeful. He had a long trench coat on, hands stuffed haphazardly into the pockets with his thumbs sticking out to open up each side of his coat as if to say “I’m here!” The man had a burgundy cable knit sweater beneath the black jacket, a long silver chain decorating his neck and twinkling in the dim light outside the tavern. 

“I know I’m late, and your profile says you hate tardiness, but hopefully you can make an exception for me.”

It was Maki. His voice was deep, full and rooted in his chest enough to fill a space without any effort. The voice of a speaker or a performer, hearty but still gentle with a bite of humor. 

Jo did a once over of Maki again, pushing off of the wall he was leaning against to finally meet the man’s gaze with irreverent stoicism. 

“You should also know from my profile that I don’t like to make exceptions, so why should I for you?” Jo muttered back. He was still mentally trying to convince himself of any reason to stay given how embarrassing it felt watching other patrons pass by him while he waited for Maki alone for so long. 

Maki chuckled, air puffing out into a warm cloud against the coldness in front of him. His nose was turning red and so were the tips of his ears. He had been out in the cold for a while, maybe even longer than Jo had. 

“I was busy making you something, I wanted to woo you, but I ended up just being late because of it.” 

He held out a plastic baggie then, something pulled from the depths of his trench coat pocket. Though fashionable and roomy for carrying his belongings, the coat was doing nothing to keep the younger man warm, and his hands started to tremble from the cold. 

Jo took the baggie in his hands, eyeing the cereal-like snack mixture inside. It looked like a bunch of rice cereal covered in chocolate and rolled around in powdered sugar of some sort. Jo frowned. What even was this?

“What is—“

“It’s called puppy chow, my mom’s recipe that she used to make for me when I was a kid,” Maki interjected with a bright smile. His eyes were downturned but still shaped little crescents as he spoke giddily with a childlike wonder. 

“This is simple, but I like to bake and make things and it was important to me to share that with you. I hope you can try it at some point and let me know what you think.”

Jo hesitated, the bag crinkling in his hands as he prodded the cereal mixture around inside of it once more. It was just that, just cereal, yet Maki handed it to him like it was a prized possession. It was something he made, so maybe it was. But it was sweet, and suddenly Jo was grateful for the freezing temperatures so the blush on his features was hidden from Maki’s watchful gaze. 

“I guess I can let the lateness slide just this once, thank you, Maki,” Jo commented, putting the plastic baggie into his own pocket and turning his back to walk inside. 

Maki stilled, waiting for something else before he followed Jo inside. The elder man checked over his shoulder, “Need a command to come when called?“

When Maki sheepishly smiled, hands burrowing deeper into his pockets once more, Jo bit back a chuckle of his own. He gestured with a nod of his head to the door of the tavern. “Come on, it’s cold out here, let’s go inside.”

Once inside, the two settled into a booth in the far corner of the tavern. It was secluded from the rest of the bar, sparsely populated and free from the chatter and cheers of other patrons who were watching some sports game on one of the many televisions mounted on the walls.

The waitress who seated them must have known it was a first date from the way she glanced at them when they settled in. Jo figured she probably saw a lot of first dates throughout her career, and the tiredness in her eyes proved it as she set down coasters and silverware and promised to check back in a few minutes to collect their orders. 

“Here,” Maki said abruptly, setting the menu with the on-tap specials down in front of him and addressing Jo. “To really make it up to you, I’ll let you pick what I drink tonight, and I’ll pay.”

Jo raised his eyebrows with feigned surprise, although endeared by the heartwarming display of Maki’s snack gift—which he figured if the date went sideways at least he and Harua could enjoy—he still wasn’t impressed with the younger man yet. Intuition was telling him that it was because he was younger, but faith was telling Jo it was because Maki was a dog person. 

“Chivalry,” he posed, eyes skimming the menu without really reading it. Jo folded the menu shut and set it down on the table with a challenging smirk. “How refreshing.”

Maki didn’t seem to falter. He still had that happy-go-lucky smile on his face that was seemingly cemented on his features from the looks of it. It was cute, the same aloofness that initially drew Jo into liking his dating profile, but would it be enough to save him?

“Come on! Anything, even a gross IPA or some super sugary cocktail, you name it!”

Jo grinned internally, wanting to see how much he could really mess with this kid. If he could stand the test, maybe Jo would give him another chance, but if not, it would still be entertaining enough that Jo wouldn’t feel like he wasted a Friday night afterwards. He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose with a slight breath. 

The waitress returned then, a small notepad and pen fixated in her hands preemptively to take the drink orders. Jo rattled off two of something complex to her and one of Maki’s thick eyebrows raised with a questioning demeanor. The waitress left and quickly returned after a few moments with two large pints of a swirling amber liquid. 

Jo thanked her and she left again to serve other patrons in her section as he pushed one of the tall pints towards Maki. The younger man stayed silent, confusion setting in deep within his brow. 

“Just beer?” he said after a moment, fingertips swiping the condensation on the surface of the glass. 

Jo shook his head. “It’s a stout, barrel aged to increase the alcohol content.”

Maki swallowed, throat visibly bobbing. “Would now be a good time to mention I’m super novice to drinking? Like haven’t had a beer enough times to know any of what you said?” His eyes were wide and his pupils were already blown into black holes by the dim lighting of the tavern. It was kind of cute seeing Maki already flustered and Jo made a mental note of it. 

“Just try it,” he eased, “It goes down like water.” 

Like water it did. After a few tentative sips and mindless small talk, Maki had downed nearly two thirds of his pint. Jo was more deliberate with his sips, making another mental note at the carelessness in which Maki drank, more so for something to do with his hands to distract from how nervous he seemed underneath all the joking and apparent confidence. 

After being inquired about his job, Maki was going on complaining about his dead-end barista gig where he loved making coffee but hated his coworkers when he lifted the pint to his lips again. Jo leaned forward, gentle fingers lowering the glass back to its coaster as he whispered out a tiny, “Easy there tiger,” to Maki as the younger man jutted his lip out with an equally tiny pout. 

“Slow down,” Jo mused, using the same hand to hold his chin as he propped himself up on his elbow. He was amused just watching Maki half-drunkenly drabble about his life, enjoying the almost one sided conversation more than he probably should have. 

“…’m not a tiger,” Maki slurred slightly, body language still that of someone who was sober. It was just the slightly dazed look in his eye and the warble of his words that tipped him off for being a lightweight, but Jo wouldn’t be surprised if that was just part of his personality anyway. 

“Oh yeah? Then what are you?” Jo responded.

Maki straightened in the booth seat, swallowing a breath thickly before regaining his semblance of self. “My friends always told me I was more of a puppy than anything.”

“Your profile did say you were a dog person,” Jo answered, taking a sip of his own ale. He knew the topic would come up eventually, slightly relieved it came up more naturally than he had anticipated. 

Maki laughed then, a palm coming down to jostle the surface of the table with the brunt of it. “Does that bother you?” he asked, though it came out more like he was delivering a joke, “Yours said you were a cat person, aren’t we supposed to be mortal enemies?”

Jo shook his head with a chuckle of disbelief himself before looking back up. “I can’t say I wasn’t confused when you matched me, because I don’t usually make exceptions for something that important to me.”

Maki’s face softened, the laughter morphing into something strangely akin to sentimentality. It sank like a stepping stone in Jo’s heart. “If it’s important to you, then you should upkeep that,” he said simply, offering a minuscule nod. 

Jo sighed, leaning back in the booth seat and tracing circles on the rim of his pint glass. His glasses slid to the tip of his nose but he didn’t make a move to fix them, just watched Maki over the top of the frames with interest. 

“I guess I was convinced to try and take a chance, and I’m honestly not that mad that I did, though you’re still on thin ice for being late.”

Maki studied Jo then, sobriety starting to come back with the more time he spent away from nursing his beer. He seemed to read every line and every freckle of Jo’s face, flitting from the way his ears slightly stuck out, to the angularity of his nose, and finally settling on the roundness of his cheeks. 

“I think I’m glad you took a chance on me too. Must be hard when you’re practically wired to overthink, right? Being a philosophy graduate and all,” Maki acquiesced, wrist tapping limply on the edge of the table. He had sunken a little bit further into the cushion of the booth and Jo didn’t know if it was because he was still a little drunk, or maybe he was growing comfortable with his companionship. 

“I’m surprised you read that far into my profile, it kind of made me laugh when that’s what you led with when you messaged me,” Jo said enthused. That warmth started to rush into his chest again, the feeling of being recognized and seen laid bare next to his lungs with each breath he took. 

“Mm yeah. It’s not anything I’m familiar with, but I’d love to hear about it, that part is still true.” Maki leaned forward after taking a baby sip of his beer for the first time in a while, clasping his hands together and intertwining his fingers to show the utmost attentiveness and listening skills he could offer. Jo nearly cooed at the adorable display. 

“I have a bachelor’s degree in philosophy which is practically useless without a masters, so I’m currently writing my thesis about Karl Jaspers and his form of existentialism,” Jo started, waiting to see what Maki’s thoughts were before he continued. 

Given his age, Jo assumed he would slink further into his seat and groan about how boring it was or why Jo had to use such big words for something so meaningless. Instead, Maki nodded, the dopey expression on his face impossibly bright as he parted his lips in anticipation for what Jo said next.

It was…cute. He kind of reminded Jo of a curious puppy while it was being trained, and if Maki had a dog ears, they’d be pert and upright, pricked to attention at any sound Jo could make. 

“So? What did this guy think? What are you writing about?” he asked matter-of-factly, like all of the philosophical teachings could be condensed to a two word answer. It was the type of ignorance that Jo was expecting from the younger man, yet it didn’t annoy him, just lit that ridiculous flame of fondness in his chest again. 

Jo cleared his throat, playing with the length of his fingernails before realizing that he too was suddenly nervous. 

“Well, Jaspers thought that if two people in a relationship wanted things to work out, then there had to be a lot of existential communication and agreeability that took place. The relationship wouldn’t work if there wasn’t mutual support, but also both parties would have to maintain some semblance of personal identity. They would have to be okay with learning about each other and making sacrifices.”

There was a pause then, a beat of silence as Maki shifted in his seat. He took another swig from his beer before setting down on the coaster and meeting Jo’s eye with a new yet familiar unwavering confidence. 

“So in order for…I don't know, us to work, let’s say,” Maki blurted out, hand lamely gesturing between the two beer glasses. “You and I have to acknowledge our differences in preference for pets while still having unique opinions to ensure we can have a deeper bond?”

Jo let out a relaxed chuckle, index finger rimming the top of his glass. “I guess so, to put things really simply. It’s much more complicated than just pets.”

Maki leaned forward then, studying Jo’s face with a glint of something mischievous in his brown eyes.  He was close, really close. Close in a way that Jo could smell the musk of his cologne wafting towards him in the small booth. 

It was such a drastic sudden shift in demeanor, but Jo didn’t find himself leaning away. Whatever had come over Maki in the previous few minutes was warranted, and it was proving to be something that might have checked a few boxes on Jo’s mental list. 

“Is it actually more complicated or are you just saying that to play hard to get?”

Jo paused, mouth agape. The younger man just cocked his head slightly to the side as if to ask if he was wrong. Jo just fumbled for words, appropriately shocked at the newfound sense of directness from this guy. 

Maki scrunched his nose with a teasing chuckle as he leaned backward and just as soon as it came, the warm scent of his cologne had gone. Jo was starting to get used to having the musky scent linger in his nostrils and he wouldn’t lie to himself to recognize that it would be welcomed if he had the chance again. 

The elder man suddenly felt the need to defend himself. “I’m not playing hard to get—“

“Then let me get you,” Maki interrupted, his index finger poking the fabric of Jo’s sleeve as their forearms rested on the table. 

“This shouldn’t be complicated, it might take some getting used to and some reconditioning, but I think we should try to make this work,” Maki explained. Jo bit the insides of both cheeks, chewing away the doubt that started to settle in behind his ribs. 

“I think it’s worth a shot,” the younger man continued, trying to rationalize the situation, “Besides, you can teach an old dog new tricks.”

Jo groaned out a tight laugh at the pun, wondering how many times someone can make dog jokes in one date night. But again, it didn’t annoy him, just sparked that thoughtful nature that Jo knew Maki had all over again. 

Jo leaned in closer this time, partly a little drunk from his now empty beer, but also slightly desperate to get a whiff of Maki’s addicting cologne again. The shockingly familiar yet new scent set into his lungs right next to the fond warmth with each inhale. 

“Take me home then,” he whispered, the ghost of his breath meeting Maki’s lips with the close proximity. The newfound boldness from the younger man must have infected him too, because he surprised himself with the statement. But in front of him, Maki started to beam, and if he had a tail like a dog, Jo was sure at that moment it would be wagging. 

Maki’s apartment was small but homely, a one bedroom apartment tucked right around the corner from the cluster of colleges in the city downtown but still far enough to be out of the way of any student foot traffic. 

When the two men walked inside, Maki took his key out of the doorknob and softly tossed it into a dish on his kitchen counter where a few coins and knickknacks had accumulated. 

The kitchen had a few sporadic dishes, a half empty box of cereal that had definitely gone stale from sitting out, a few bowls and measuring cups and suspicious white powder dusting the surface of the countertops. The microwave door was open, only being shut by Maki’s passing hand as he moved briskly. 

“Sorry I didn’t really think you were actually going to want to come over,” he apologized bashfully, trying to last minute clean up the clutter which Jo affectionately realized as he still loitered in the doorway entrance as the remnant dishes to Maki’s “puppy chow” gift. Jo ran his thumb over the plastic baggie still in the pocket of his pea coat, a smile absentmindedly rising to his lips. 

“No, this is better, I get to see the chaos that you live in,” Jo mused, running a fingertip through what he could only suspect was powdered sugar from the snack mix on the countertops as he met Maki in the kitchen. 

Maki turned around from the microwave, having kicked his shoes off by the door yet still meeting Jo’s height in his socks. The top of his spiky blonde hair looked fluffy in this lighting, and Jo had the sudden urge to pat the top of Maki’s head, wanting to run his fingers through the short strands and scratch at his roots. 

His cheeks dimpled as he grinned back, moving their two bodies backwards until he had both hands braced on the sink behind Jo as he stood with his back against the edge of the counter. 

“So what do you think of the chaos?” Maki asked, eyes flowing around Jo’s face like he was painting his features to memory. Jo turned his head a bit, gaze fixed on a point somewhere behind Maki’s head. His cheeks burned under the weight of the rims of his glasses. 

“I think it suits you,” Jo sighed, one fist coming to grasp the fabric of Maki’s trench coat near his waist. Maki looked down briefly at the point of contact before pulling Jo’s gaze in to meet his own.

“I think you suit me.”

Jo huffed, hot breath blowing the forelock of his black hair and fogging the lenses of his glasses ever so slightly. “You can’t just say things like that.”

Maki cocked his head to the side again, like a dog being taught a new command. His lip pouted for added effect, neck craning closer to nearly brush Jo’s nose. 

“Why not? Cat got your tongue?” he teased.

Jo tightened his grip on Maki’s coat, finally letting the younger man take up his whole frame of view. Maki was everywhere, caging him in with his scent, his bruising eye contact, his broad body and firm shoulders. He bit his bottom lip enticingly, like he knew it was another tick on Jo’s mental list, like he knew it would lead to the elder’s undoing. 

Jo felt delirious, the heat of Maki’s apartment, the countless layers of mid-autumn clothing finally working up a sweat within him. What really got to him though was just Maki. Jo could feel his breath laboring in his lungs, lips parted indefinitely to gasp the tiniest of breaths to try and calm himself down. 

Why was he getting so worked up? Was it truly the younger man in front of him with all of his endearments and attractiveness? Or was it the prospect of finding a partner, someone, anyone to fill in the gaps of Jo’s life. Maybe he was starting to get desperate. 

No, that wasn’t it. Jo wasn’t settling, wasn’t caving for the boundaries and expectations because Maki was in front of him meeting all of them. He was pertaining to the very topic Jo was writing his thesis about, keeping himself in the folds of Jo’s brain. It was genius, it was just what Jo needed. 

“What’s going through your head right now, Maki?” Jo asked instead, thickly swallowing the overthinking down to the pit of his stomach. 

Maki exhaled, hot breath tickling Jo’s nose. “Do you want the honest answer or the performative answer?” 

Jo rolled his eyes, a chuckle getting caught in his throat as he cleared it with a grunt. “Both.”

Maki shifted his weight on his feet, taking a step impossibly closer and moving his jaw towards Jo’s ear. 

“The performative answer is that I’m wondering what I can do next to fit in with your philosophical narrative but…” he trailed off, warm breath dancing around Jo’s earlobe. 

Maki nosed the shell of Jo’s ear, and the taller man instinctually craned his neck into the brief touch, eyes fluttering closed with all of the heat freely flowing around his body and the lack of space between them. The scent of Maki’s cologne found its home in Jo’s nostrils and he inhaled sharply, not wanting to let the musky warmth of the scent get away this time. 

“The honest answer is that I really need to know what you taste like.”

A sharp gasp overtook the conscious parts of Jo’s brain, body starting to slump against the sink and counter. He braced himself against Maki’s chest, palms resting flush against the sturdy surface. Maki just continued to rub his nose along the expanse of Jo’s jugular, testing, teasing. Waiting. 

“Can I?” Jo felt the question more than he heard it, the drag of Maki’s thick lips and teeth grazing his ears. He could get drunk off of the feeling all over again, the possessive scent of Maki’s body flooding his system. He just nodded, hastily, desperately.

“Words,” Maki scolded, the edges of a deep grumble in his voice. Jo felt his knees getting weaker by the second, hands grabbing fistfuls of Maki’s knit sweater like it was going to ground him.

“Yes,” Jo chastised, eyes opening just enough to see the kitchen lights above him. “Just kiss me.”

A guttural sound tore through the kitchen, emanating from Maki’s mouth as he found Jo’s lips with his own. The heat between them transfigured into a syrupy desire that Jo could taste on Maki’s tongue. There was no buildup, just the clash of teeth on teeth, a sort of animalistic feeling that Jo wasn’t surprised to find coming from Maki. He didn’t mind it, embraced it even, found himself moaning into the mess of teeth and saliva around Maki’s pressing tongue.

The younger man’s hands had come to cup both of Jo’s cheeks, the latter’s palms still grasping at his burgundy sweater. He was sure he was the same color, face and neck flushed underneath his turtleneck as the single breath passed between his and Maki’s haughty mouths grew more obsolete. 

Jo parted for air, tilting his head down to press his forehead against Maki’s where the latter was licking a stripe over the corner of his lips, glossy and coated with more of Jo’s spit than his own. 

His chest was heaving, the tension of his fingers aching on the swell of Jo’s cheeks, pushing the skin together to pucker his lips as Maki smiled sweetly at the view in front of him. 

“Just like I thought,” he began, tongue darting out again like he was licking the last remnants of a dessert from them. “You taste so good.”

Jo couldn't reply, cheeks squished into oblivion beneath Maki’s firm grasp. The younger man turned his head with the hand bracketing his chin and nosed down his ear again, slipping a finger beneath the collar of his pea coat and sweater. 

“Can I taste the rest of you?” he asked, suddenly timid despite the fact that his lips were already pressing nearly into Jo’s earlobe. Jo shivered beneath Maki’s hold, thighs pressing together as his hips slid further down the edge of the counter. 

“Please,” he whispered near incoherently, like being this needy was too embarrassing for Jo to formally admit. He had never been this pliant, this at mercy for someone younger than him. 

But it was Maki, each of his limbs nearly double in thickness to Jo’s slender ones, body pressed against him just right that the friction felt forbidden underneath all of the layers of their clothing. It was intoxicating, the scent of Maki’s cologne worming its way into Jo's prefrontal cortex, rewriting his neural chemistry to crave him and only him. 

Maki had one hand pulling at the collar of his turtleneck, seeming frustrated with the modest garment and how it hid so much of Jo’s pale skin; and the other was teetering around the edge of his waistband, dangerously close to dipping below the fabric of his pants. 

The younger man pulled back after a second, prompting Jo to shuck the outermost layer of his coat and cross his arms to rid himself of his wool turtleneck. Maki let the trench coat he was wearing pool on the kitchen tile behind him as he untucked his own cable knit sweater from his pants to throw overhead, landing somewhere in the mess of floor around them.

Jo pulled him right back in, hands automatically fastening themselves back to where they once were, perched right on his chest. Only this time, it was just the coldness of Jo’s slender fingers against the broadened expanse of warmth that was Maki’s pectorals. He was firm underneath the discrete prodding of Jo’s fingertips, but squishy enough to feel soft and plush to the touch. 

Maki cocked his head, nose hitting Jo’s temple as the elder hummed out a pleased sigh. The younger man slid his hands up Jo’s bare torso, his thin frame infinitely smaller underneath his large palms before coming to rest at the base of his long neck. His fingers stroked the column, head dipping down to delicately lick the duration of Jo’s jugular, finally not separated by any scratchy wool. 

Jo’s hands gripped for cover, digging into the plush of Maki’s pectorals as the latter continued to kiss and lick and bite down Jo’s neck. He only paused when he got to his collarbones, taking it upon himself to look up at Jo with sweltering dark eyes and lowering himself to his knees on the kitchen floor.

There was pleading in his eyes, though darkened with something syrupy and sweet like caramel flavored lust. Maki pleaded, with his eyes, for Jo to let him do something, anything, and Jo obliged, urging him with a nod to unfasten his pants.

Maki sighed, hot breath fanning across Jo’s tummy, watching the pale skin flex in trepidation. Jo’s eyes squeezed shut, willing himself to just feel instead of overwhelming himself with the visual turn on of Maki using his teeth to draw the zipper of his pants down. It was too much, he was too much. Too attractive, all of his mannerisms, his being, too much.

Jo felt his breathing grow in a crescendo of rapidity, promptly turning into a fit of hyperventilation. Maki had his hand around him now, fist rubbing gently as if Jo was delicate porcelain. His hand was slow, testing the water, dipping Jo in and out of the thick sugar-coated bliss they both wanted. 

Maki slowed to a stop, and Jo could feel his warm fingertips skittishly dance across Jo’s lower abdomen. “Hey,” he soothed, voice pathetically softer in tone than just moments before. Jo’s heart sputtered behind his ribcage, reverberating into every single one of his bloodvessels. His head was pounding, a mantra of just “Maki, Maki, Maki,” ringing through it like he only had the younger man’s name in his vocabulary.

“We don’t have to keep going if it’s too much too soon,” Maki whispered, and Jo finally opened one eye to meet the younger man’s gaze. The sight alone was too much, and Jo felt his whole body tense, pelvis jerking under Maki’s grip and making him finally realize just how immensely hard he was. 

Jo opened his mouth, jaw going slack when Maki ran his thumb over the slit of his cock, finally running his touch along the entire expanse of his dick and pulling it free from his boxers and slacks. He wanted so badly to tell Maki it was too much, too good, too perfect. It was just what he needed, a little bit of Maki’s chaos to ruffle through the rigidity of Jo’s life thus far. The words died hard on his tongue, turning into a slur of punched out moans instead. It seemed to get the point across anyway, and Maki chuckled to himself, a sharp canine glinting as the corner of his mouth pulled up in a mischievous smirk.

“Just breathe,” Maki hushed, free hand rubbing circles into Jo’s protruding hipbone with his thumb. Jo’s body hitched against the kitchen counter, sliding his socked feet out in front of him on the tiled floor like he was skating, further and further into Maki’s warm grasp.

“I’m only touching you, baby,” Maki lulled, “Normally so put together, and you're already coming undone from just this?” 

Jo whined, teeth clenching as he moaned out more pitiful noises that only seemed to spur Maki’s hand around his cock to move with more intensity. He still kept the same pace, but his strokes were more meaningful, like each one was perfectly coaxing out an orgasm that was already building in the pit of the older man’s tummy.

Then, there was heat, and Maki wrapped his plump pink lips around the tip of Jo’s cock, tongue prodding around the skin teasingly. He hollowed out his cheeks, sucking forcefully as he dipped his head low towards Jo’s pelvic bone. Jo squeezed his eyes shut tighter, stars exploding in the blackness of his vision every time Maki’s nose hit the base of his abdomen.

After what felt like hours, Maki drew his lips back with a lewd pop. “Look at me,” he demanded with a restrained yearning in his tone. Jo found the courage to peer at him obediently, watching fervently as Maki forked his tongue over his canines and lip, licking up some of Jo’s precum like it was a delicacy.

“I knew you’d taste good.” 

Jo wheezed, shoulders slumping as he gripped the edge of the counter for stability. His knees grew weaker at each statement that unfurled from Maki’s mouth and eventually he knew he’d be a puddle of mush on the floor at the younger man’s mercy.

“H-How did you k-know?” Jo stammered out, teeth sinking into the plush of his lower lip. He rolled the flesh around his teeth as Maki answered, the insanity of the latter’s touch beginning to taunt him with irreparable effect.

“Just call it instinct,” Maki scoffed, too enamored with placing small licks to the length of Jo’s cock to really answer. Jo let his head fall back, the coil in his stomach starting to ache with each burning lap of Maki’s tongue on his shaft.

Jo, usually tightly wound and poised, was falling apart underneath the watchful eye and hand of a man younger than him; a man with fluffy blonde hair and baby pink lips and the perfect shoulder width to lean on. It was ridiculous, but it was perfect, and it was the type of match Jo had been pining for, craving for during his entire adult existence.

From below, Maki halted his movements, rising to his feet from where he had once been kneeling and cornered Jo against the sink once more. He brought his hands up to cup his jaw again, sweetly, and pressed a chaste kiss to Jo’s waiting lips. It was easy, too easy, and Jo found himself already seeing a routine like this that he could work himself into alongside Maki.

Right when he was about to protest for why Maki had stopped touching him, the younger man dipped low and wrapped his arms around Jo’s knees, hoisting him upright with a small grunt of exertion and promptly throwing Jo over his shoulder. Jo’s torso fell over Maki’s broad back with a yelp of his own, hands flailing to settle on the beltloops of his jeans for a place to hold on. 

“W-Where—“ Maki chuckled over Jo’s wordless protest, electing to walk the two of them towards the bedroom of his apartment.

Just as swiftly as he had been thrown over Maki’s shoulder, Jo’s body was flung abruptly back, back crashing against the plushness of pillows and comforter on Maki’s bed. It was just as unkempt as his kitchen, but Jo didn’t have it in him to care, too blissed out already, to even pay any mind. Maki was strong, the muscles of his chest and arms picking up Jo like he was weightless and ragdolling him around the apartment with practiced ease. Jo swallowed thickly, glasses sliding down his nose as Maki came into view again. 

The younger man had a lopsided smile on his face, cheeks dimpling as he crawled over Jo’s body atop of his bed. Jo wasn’t a small man in any way, his body was skinny but he was lanky. He was tall and had long limbs, but compared to Maki, he was being enveloped like prey. Maki huddled closer, crawling up to settle at the apex of Jo’s thighs where his dick still laid hard and leaking against his belly button.

Maki’s hand came up, pawing at Jo’s thigh to open his legs up further. It only reddened the blush on Jo’s pale skin even more, and his pulse quickened from the electric touch. Maki formally shimmied Jo’s hips out of his boxers and slacks, leaving him fully naked under his predatory gaze. Jo turned his cheek against the sheets, mind swirling with just as much insecurity as lust. 

He felt so vulnerable, cheeks and neck flushing pink as Maki just kneeled above him with wide eyes and a half open mouth. The younger man ran a hand up Jo’s thigh then, watching the milky skin turn rosy as he scraped his nails down its path. “You’re beautiful.”

Jo winced, cock twitching from the compliment as Maki’s hands gravitated back to hold it once more. Languid, drawn out strokes caused him to start to buck his pelvis up to meet Maki’s hand. It was the same agonizingly slow pace Maki seemed to be fond of that was quickly driving Jo to insanity.

“Please, please,” he muttered, drool starting to pool on the pillow beneath his face.

“What can I do for you?” Maki questioned, and out of the corner of Jo’s eye, he could barely see him undoing the button of his jeans with one hand. He was giddy, shifting his weight from one knee to the other as he moved his hand on Jo’s dick in time with his breaths. 

Jo mustered up enough strength to raise his head from the bed and look Maki in the eye. “Please, god, fuck me already.”

Like it was a release command, Maki let go of Jo’s cock, shoving his pants and briefs down in the process before kicking them off the foot of his bed. Two large hands came up to grip the backs of Jo’s thighs, yanking him down the comforter and flush with Maki’s now naked hips. Jo sat up on his elbows, a desperate gasp emerging from his lips as Maki manhandled him like it was nothing.

Maki was….huge to put it simply. Being massive all over was common knowledge to Jo at this point, and his cock fit the criteria as well. Girthy, cut at the tip where he was already red with desire, and curving slightly downward to drag across Jo’s hip with each slight movement had him delirious. 

He wasn’t groomed, another addition to the organized chaos that was Maki, but Jo didn’t care. In fact, a lick of shame curled around his spine because the tufts of unkempt pubic hair at Maki’s base was just spurring him on more.

Maki let spit drool in his palm, wrapping the strands of saliva around his first two fingers. He hunched over, eyes meeting Jo’s with tentative grace as he hoisted Jo’s hips off the bed by the backs of his knees. The spit lubricated hand danced around his entrance, the pad of Maki’s index finger resting against the rim of Jo’s hole. Just waiting.

“I’m—“ Jo began, mouth dry and throat sharp as he choked down a swallow. Maki leaned forward to lick delicately at Jo’s dry lips, kissing him briefly to swallow any nerves or apprehensions from the elder man. 

Jo broke away from the kiss, tongue still lapping at Maki’s as he spoke around it. “I’m already prepped, please, just fuck me.”

Maki’s eyes widened around the confession, letting out a wounded noise from behind his own clenched teeth. He was holding himself back with guttural restraint, hips grinding little circles into the bedding where he knelt just beyond Jo’s pelvis. 

He didn’t question it. Didn’t ask anything about why someone so seemingly modest and put together like Jo had fingered himself in the shower before meeting for the date. Call it intuition, a desperate gut feeling, but Jo preferred to rationalize it as being ready for anything. If that wasn’t a testament to his maturity and wisdom then what was? Somehow in the back of his mind, Jo knew he’d be unfurling his innermost desires on Maki’s behalf tonight, enough to learn if they were a compatible match. 

“Fuck you’re so hot,” Maki gushed instead.

He leaned forward once more, index and middle finger sliding past the ring of muscle with aforementioned ease. Jo’s breath caught in his chest, hiccuping out a soft praise at finally being filled up, though not nearly as much as he wanted. 

“More, it feels amazing, I need more.”

Maki rounded his back over the elder man’s frame, teeth dangerously close to his face. He cocked his head to the side, teeth grazing the arm of Jo’s glasses and biting them gently off of his face as his fingers curled together inside of Jo’s hole. 

The wire rimmed glasses fell from their perch on the tip of Jo’s nose, dangling from the younger man’s teeth like he had caught prey. With his free hand Maki folded them, setting the pair of glasses on his bedside table and out of the way. 

Jo’s eyes focused and unfocused in time with each thrust of Maki’s fingers in his already loosened rim. He started to push his hips back onto Maki’s hands, the fuzziness of Maki’s face and body finally settling into a clearer view with each small moan he let slip from between his teeth. 

Maki’s dick was hanging heavy between his knees, the tip dragging over the back of Jo’s thighs and causing him to stutter his breath and clench his abdomen with each fleeting touch. Finally, he deemed Jo open enough, using whatever wetness was left from fingering him to slick up his cock. 

“Condom?” Maki breathed, the question coming out hopeful but also curious. 

Jo exhaled, chest heaving as he drew his head up from the pillow to stare at the younger boy. His head felt so heavy, trying to gravitate back towards the bed, but his eyes stared daggers into Maki’s sweaty face. “I didn’t think we’d get this far.”

Maki shook his head in agreement, more drool pooling in his hand as he lathered it up and down his shaft. “Is-Is that okay? I know it’s not ideal—“

Suddenly the direct dominance was shelved for the nervous aloofness in Maki’s personality that Jo knew and was starting to love. He was caring, his touch grounding and worshipping Jo’s pliant body no matter where his fingers laid. 

It was all so wonderful, Jo filed the facts away in the cabinetry of his brain, but it wasn’t the time. He was aching, desperate to be filled and find release, heartbeat quickening with every moment he wasn’t being fucked like the pitiful mess Maki had turned him into. Jo wasn’t sure when this side of him had started to break through, but tonight was about learning each other just as much as it was about learning about himself. No philosophy paper could teach him that. 

Jo had enough. Enough of the small talk and the procrastination. Enough of the stalling when all he wanted was to be cock drunk with Maki inside of him like a wild animal. 

“Please don’t make me ask again,” he pleaded, eyes starting to well with tears of frustration as his head slammed back into the sheets. Lines of frustration contoured Jo’s face for a moment, but as soon as Maki got the green light and started to push his hips forward to the swell of Jo’s ass, his face started to contort with the pleasurable stretch. 

“You’re still so tight.” 

The sheer pressure of Maki’s head pushing through Jo’s rim was enough to make him squeeze his eyes shut, lip caught between his teeth as the stretch began to burn. Just as quickly as it began to burn, the pain split, churning warmth into Jo’s gut as he couldn’t help but mindlessly rub his own weeping cock between his thumb and forefinger.

Maki watched, mouth permanently agape in wonder, gaze darting between where he was seamlessly sinking into Jo’s warmth, and then where the latter had begun stroking himself in time with their matched pants of exhaling. 

Maki’s tongue had stuck out of the corner of his lips in concentration, hot breath fanning as he finally bottomed out. His palm came to cup one of Jo’s knees and the other dug its thumb into his hipbone. Maki had graciously thrown one of Jo’s long legs over his shoulder, mouth lapping at the pale skin of his inner thigh as he waited for the signal to start moving. 

Jo gasped, horrifically overwhelmed at the amount of fullness he felt. He knew Maki was big, thick and muscly just like every other part of him; but once his length was inside of him, pulsating and thrumming in his organs, it started to become too much again. 

“You’re too big,” Jo whimpered, eyes brimming with tears still as Maki shushed him lightly from above. He rocked side to side on his knees to alleviate the ache starting to form but quickly stilled as the slight movement caused the elder man to start writhing in silence beneath his grasp. Jo’s leg twitched helplessly over Maki’s shoulder and the younger man pressed another wet kiss to his knee to soothe him. 

“Move…”

His voice was low, nearly imperceptible over the intense huffing coming from Maki’s chest. He was almost vibrating, the need to move and the want to restrain himself for Jo’s sake battling constantly inside of his head. He was trying so hard to be gentle, the press of his fingertips in Jo’s body just one degree of tension away from digging his fingernails into them. 

Maki winced, staring at how Jo’s face still twisted with pleasured pain. 

Jo knew his instincts were telling him to snap his hips and pound into him with no mercy, but Maki wouldn’t. He knew he wouldn’t. Maki was a man before he was a sex-hungry dog. He had Jo’s best interest in mind.

“Are you sure?”

“Move…please,” Jo whined, voice pitching up embarrassingly high like a dog whistle and Maki’s ears pricked to listen. Jo hated begging, hated the shame that warmed in the pool of his gut every time he uttered a plea towards the younger man. Yet seeing the way Maki’s eyes lit up every time, the need to please and do well shining behind his chocolaty brown irises, made Jo throb in his own fist infinitely harder.

Maki pulled out tantalizingly slow, the drag felt like bliss as Jo stifled out a drawn out moan from his parted lips. He set the pace sturdily, abusing the same spot over and over until Jo startled to unravel into an incoherent mess beneath him. His back started to arch off of the sheets, scrambling to drive himself backwards into Maki’s cock for just a crumb more of pleasure.

The silver chain around his neck, the only accessory still worn, bounced against Maki’s chest with the intensity of his movements. The dim light of the bedroom caught the silver every so often, like a beacon to Jo’s eyes. It was stupidly hot, especially when Maki bent at his waist in order to look over Jo’s thinner frame, the chain dangling like a lure over his head. He almost went crosseyed in bliss trying to catch the necklace in his gaze.

Maki was caught in the same bliss, hollow groans echoing from his chest into the vacancy of his bedroom to sound like animalistic growls which only caused more precum to dribble out from Jo’s dick. 

Jo gave himself quick strokes in time with Maki’s thrusts, liquid warmth pooling in his stomach. He wouldn’t last long, not with how Maki was fighting to keep their eyes locked together. The latter hunched over again, folding Jo’s body in half just to lick into his mouth again. 

Each kiss was messy, chaotic in a way which felt familiar to Maki, but layered around the middle in a way that was unique to Jo. Their lips met with fervors and heat and subjected desire as Maki took more and more of Jo’s breath with each subtle crash of his canine teeth. He didn’t have it in him to resist, just let the hot breath be stolen from his lungs as Maki drank it up, body sliding up the mattress after each deep roll of Maki’s hips. 

“You have no clue how badly I wanted you.”

He moved to mouth at Jo’s neck, tongue lapping against skin after gnawing in deep bites. Jo whined again, all high and pitchy, and Maki replied with a harmoniously low growl against his collarbones. 

Jo could only laugh through half lidded moans to reply. “I could—ah—I could guess.”

He could feel Maki everywhere. In his chest with each thrust, his scent nestling into his nostrils, the tightness inside Jo’s throat as the pressure built sky high inside of his cock. Maki was consuming him, teeth nibbling into the vulnerabilities of Jo’s body, leashing himself under Jo’s skin, submitting while overtaking so Jo could own him. 

“Jo-kun…”

Suddenly, Jo couldn’t seem to recollect if Maki had ever even said his name since they met. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the sinful slap of his dick inside of Jo in contingency with each syllable of his name. He silently wished his name wasn’t so simple. 

He could feel his eyes roll backwards momentarily. The sound of his name on Maki’s tongue was pure seduction to his ears. It was like a mating call, music to his ears and he keened as he replayed it in his head. 

Amidst his chaos, Maki was growing sloppy. His hips were moving with onset fatigue as he chased his own orgasm apart from Jo’s haphazard strokes. He started to squirm with each pullout, breathy groans emitting from his thick lips. 

“T-Tell me how it feels,” Maki gasped, lowering Jo’s knee to spread his hips open wider, angling just right to hit a new spot deeper within Jo. He cried out immediately, hands abandoning his strokes to grasp at the sheets and Maki’s defined bicep. 

Jo realized what this was for him. This wasn’t just getting to know each other, seeing if this fit and they were compatible. This was about security.

For Maki, this was a testament to his whole being; how well he could please, be of service, and be a good companion to someone. Maybe it wasn’t so different for Jo, someone desperate to be in control of chaos, wanting to find someone to be alongside him that fit that narrative. 

They could be that for each other.

Aimlessly grabbing forward, Jo clenched his fingers around Maki’s silver chain. He yanked it forward, drawing a choked off noise from the man above him as he bit his lip.

“You’re so good for me,” Jo mused, a lazy smile splaying wide on his spit slick lips. Maki was pressing open-mouthed kisses to each corner of his lips between words, a happy hum almost like a purr in the back of his throat. 

“So handsome and so big.”  

God, the pure filth rolling off of Jo’s tongue was something he’d cringe at later, at a time when he wasn’t obsessing over how incredible it felt to be filled like this. Only someone like Maki could make him say things like this.

The younger man grunted then, eyes squeezed shut almost as if to brace for something. But Jo knew this was what he yearned to hear, what he needed to get his release. He kept going, finding his own needs becoming more satiated with each reaction he was drawing out of Maki.

“R-Really?” he asked pathetically, knuckles turning white with the nice grip he kept on Jo’s hips. Now he was fucking into him mercilessly, all rhythm thrown to the wind as he stuttered in each direction.

“Mhm,” Jo chided, amusement building just as fast as the heat in his stomach. His cock burned with each upstroke and paused to catch his breath. He ached all over every time Maki slammed into him, the delicious sensation stinging like a brand of ownership. 

Jo twisted his fingers in the chainlink of Maki’s collar-like necklace. It tightened around his throat and Maki gasped out loud. Jo smiled, a tendril of shame sneaking in at the fact that he was enjoying this; the idea that Maki was coming undone just as he did, maybe even more. 

He decided to go in for the kill. Jo pulled the chain taut and Maki’s chest pressed against his, one arm snaking around to drag his nails down the younger man’s back as he pounded into him. Jo brought his mouth to the shell of Maki’s ear, teeth scraping lightly.

“Such a good puppy for your owner, hm?”

That seemed to draw out more from the younger man, and he keeled over, forehead burrowing into the expanse of Jo’s shoulder and the bedsheets. Maki barked out an echoing groan, spilling into Jo seemingly endlessly as his hips spasmed to a stop. Between the whiting out of his vision and the roar of blood in his ears,  Jo could feel his own release plastered between where their chests were still touching, the stickiness starting to leak down his obliques and stain the sheets beneath them. 

Maki didn’t mind. In the chaos, neither did Jo. He welcomed the body weight crashing down on top of him as Maki bracketed his head with his forearms, fingers threading into Maki’s short blonde hair like he wanted to since he laid eyes on him. He rubbed quick strokes into his scalp, soothing, petting as Maki regulated himself from the spine-shattering orgasm.

Jo wasn’t sure how much time had passed and as it continued, he found himself less and less likely to care. It wasn’t like him, usually so uptight about punctuality and how much time he spent doing things to actually really relish what he was doing. 

Relishing this he was, smoothing his palms down Maki’s back with small shushes. Every so often, Maki’s body would spasm against Jo’s ricocheted and aftershocks of his high as he softened inside of Jo. 

He didn’t expect to be caring for the latter like this, bathing in the silence with so much contentment like this.

Maybe it was because Maki was younger; that he needed the attention and the affection and the blatant display of fondness to feel like he amounted to something. Maybe it was because he was a dog person that Maki wanted the praise, wanted to feel like he could prove that he could make Jo feel good. 

The realization flickered something fond inside Jo’s chest, right next to where all the other chaotic details of Maki had imprinted into.

Vibrations met the skin of Jo’s shoulders before Maki pulled his head away just centimeters enough to reiterate it. 

“Owner, huh?” he sheepishly whispered, eyes downturned yet still wide and full of vulnerability. It was only at a moment like this where Jo could see Maki’s youth, see the wisdom that still had yet to find him. But Jo could always supply that sort of thing in the meantime. 

He chuckled, bouncing Maki slightly on his chest as the younger man gripped to him impossibly tighter. It was cramped, sticky, and disgustingly tender. It was like finding out that he had been missing this his whole life. The stench of sweat permeated the air but all Jo could smell was Maki’s cologne in the spot beneath his jaw, grounding and calming. A scent to claim.

“You awfully seemed to enjoy it.”

Maki muttered out something in protest, shaking his head into Jo’s clavicle. The spikes strands of his sweaty bleached hair tickled Jo’s cheeks and he laughed again. Hearty and warm.

“Please, Jo-kun, this is so embarrassing,” Maki complained, keeping his head down to avoid any eye contact. Jo scratched at his nape to draw his attention, but Maki slipped out of him and rolled off to his side to drape himself across Jo.

“No, I can work with this, I want to work with this,” Jo appeased, thinking back to what Maki back at the restaurant. 

“It might take some getting used to and some reconditioning, but I think we should try to make this work.”

It seemed like maybe Maki had known then what Jo did not realize till this very moment, and that wasn’t something he could pinpoint on any dating app profile. Maki knew what effort was, how to bend it and will it to fit whatever he saw worth it.

And he saw Jo as worth it.

Jo caught himself smiling as he thought back to the plastic baggie of puppy chow still in his coat pocket on Maki’s floor.

Luckily Jo felt like Maki was worth it too.

Somewhere in between thoughts, Maki had accepted the answer like a newfound promise because he had grabbed a handful of tissues from the bedside table to wipe themselves off, discarding them into the rest of the chaos that lies behind the bedroom floor.

“So have I met all of your expectations?” Maki called out to the vastness of the bedroom. His deep voice, ladened with tiredness and thick, syrupy affection, brought Jo back to current reality. 

It was just so easy to get lost thinking about someone as wonderfully surprising as Maki was. 

His limbs were fully stretched out beside Jo, one arm still curling to act as a pillow for Jo’s head on his plush bicep. Maki turned his torso towards Jo then, tucking his head into the crook of Jo’s neck like a perfect puzzle piece. He reached with his free hand to hold Jo’s bare stomach and trace up and down the smooth skin, massive palm encasing the swell of his abdomen. 

He seemed larger than life, broad form encompassing the vast majority of the linen bed. He looked silly, like a puppy with uncontrollably long limbs who hadn’t yet realized it’s too big to be a lap dog. 

Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

Jo felt his lips pull into a lazy grin, an exhale of amusement leaving his nose as he snuggled further into Maki’s hold. 

“I think you’ve more than just met them.”

Maki let out a pleased hum at Jo’s answer, pressing a wet kiss to the base of his throat. Jo winced at the loud smacking noise but still settled into the affection like he could get used to it. If Maki was a real dog, Jo was sure at that moment that his tail would be wagging eagerly, thumping on the sheets of the bed with fierce loyalty and promise. 

If being a dog person meant getting to be Maki’s partner through and through, Jo might have had to reevaluate his decision to be strictly only a cat person. He wouldn’t need to change the dating profile biopic, considering the profile was deleted as soon as Jo rolled over to grab a hold of his phone. 

The “loving struggle” might persist, it might pose a threat to whatever their relationship would fester into, but Jo knew it wouldn’t be unprecedented. Maki had a good head on his shoulders, attentive and thoughtful with enough wonder and youth to still look at the world with light around the edges. He was the puzzle piece Jo needed to answer all of his empty parts, and he vocalized that he was ready for whatever lay ahead. 

For “What a man is, is a light in the eyes of the one who loves him; for true love is clear sighted and not blind.” 

— Karl Jaspers.

And that was what Maki could be for Jo. Would be for Jo. Clear sighted and not blind.