“Hatford. If I ever have to rip the carpet out of my office again, I’ll have you suffer the disgrace of picking the best of your own people to replace and retire you.” He observes the way the two men flanking Hatford straighten subtly in response, as if he actually means it. Hatford is an incredible interrogator. His polished, unaffected accent, his precision in puncturing joints to induce immense pain without causing undue amounts of messy bleeding like the Butcher had, his ability to plan for almost ridiculous levels of contingency, and his additional position as Moriyama’s devoted personal bodyguard make him utterly invaluable. The lack of available tarp to catch the blood is Moriyama’s own doing, as he’d removed it two days ago specifically to bring on this scenario, knowing a tarp would soon need to be put to use.
Moriyama catches the barest hint of fire in Hatford’s gaze as he bends his head in deference. “I shall endeavor to keep a supply of tarps in all locations that might require conversations of persuasion, my Lord,” Hatford says respectfully, as though they don’t both know exactly where one was supposed to have been waiting for him today.
“We shall see,” Moriyama says in a cold but marginally appeased tone, and turns to the coat rack. Hatford immediately helps him into his overcoat before donning his own coat and cane. They head down to the waiting car, and after settling into the back seat and issuing the driver instructions to head to his club, he closes the mirrored separation window and sits back with a sigh.
In a flash, Stuart’s hand finds its way into his hair and yanks his head back to a painful angle. He moans in appreciation, his icy crime lord persona immediately yielding to his submissive nature as his Lord scowls down at him. “Retire me? I’m hurt, pretty boy. Who would you respect enough to beat your ass till you’re senseless if you had me killed?” Ichirou bites his lip and presses a hand to his growing erection as the grip on his hair gets tighter. “And what did you do with that tarp?”
“Bold of you to assume I was responsible for its disappearance, my Lord,” He teases breathlessly as Stuart knocks his hand away and squeezes his crotch hard enough to make him yelp.
“You were, and you’ll be punished for it, but you already know that. Why did you choose the club instead of home, Ichirou?”
“Mmm,” Ichirou arches his back as Stuart begins rubbing and squeezing at his cock. “Roland said the sub who was assaulted by a banned member would be in for sub night tonight, and I wanted to issue him a personal apology and assurance in case he still feels worried or unsafe at our club.”
Stuart considers this and smiles at him in approval, but there’s a steely glint to his eyes. “Then until the sub shows up, your bare ass is mine. No quantity, we’re going until my hand tires.” Ichirou shivers in anticipation. “And to make up for being a mouthy little brat earlier, you’re going to be as silent as you can manage, because I’m spanking you in the club office instead of the private room you play at being a Dom in.”
“Are you sorry yet?” Stuart asks him conversationally while rubbing one of his cherry-red ass cheeks, in the exact same tone in which he’d asked the man he’d interrogated earlier if he was ready to identify the other mole. A deeply appreciative shudder runs down Ichirou’s spine.
“N-not in the least,” Ichirou manages to whisper, pressing his burning, bare ass back against Stuart’s hand, making his Lord stop rubbing and give a firm squeeze to the other cheek. He chokes on a moan and clutches the sides of the desk he is bent over in their managerial office at Eden’s Twilight.
The room is almost silent save for the heavy, sharp rhythm of Stuart’s hand making contact with his ass – he’s trying so hard to be good, silent like his Lord had commanded, so that no one would hear him being dominated. Eden’s is used to him being a Dom, bringing uncontracted boys into his private, soundproof playroom down the hall, and if he doesn’t want to be found out...no, he’ll just have to be as quiet as he can. Each cheek throbs with renewed hot pleasure as Stuart switches off between them for his spanking.
He moans softly as a particularly hard swat makes the tip of his achingly hard cock rub the side of the desk, a shiver of pleasure rushing down his spine. He is going to have to beg to come soon…but Stuart recognizes where his mind is at and won’t allow that yet. His Lord’s other hand tugs his hips back a few inches further from the desk as he speeds up the spanking, and Ichirou almost sobs at the denial of contact. He can hear a light thumping, dissonant to the sound of Stuart’s hand…a knock? No, probably the music from the club…it’s driven out of his brain as Stuart kneads both of his burning cheeks.
“Mmm, my Lord, I need to- COME!” The last word escapes as a pained yell when another hard smack is delivered to his ass. Good thing that hadn’t been a knock on the door, as he’d probably been loud enough to be heard. There is a reason they usually only play at home—
The door opens.
Ichirou’s head shoots off the desk to stare at the person who probably thought he’d ordered them to “COME” in.
“Um, hello, Roland said I should come to your office when I was…” The familiar voice of Andrew’s sub trails off as he takes in the scene before him, his pretty, scarred face flushed either from alcohol or from seeing the punishment he’s walked in on, and then Neil very quickly slips inside and shuts the door with a loud click. This is okay. Ichirou isn’t public about who his Dom is, but Neil at least already knows he has one, and Andrew will make sure he is discreet—
“GET”, Stuart starts with a bark, but then hesitates and continues in a pitch softened by confusion, “Na…Neil?”
Ichirou glances at his Dom and pounces on the opportunity to tease out another spanking session, even if he is positive he is Stuart’s only sub. “You know this sub? Have you been—“
“Uncle Stuart?” Neil interrupts as if he isn’t even there, in a voice tinged with embarrassment and mild horror.
Uncle Stuart. Recognition clicks suddenly in Ichirou’s brain and his cold, business-like upbringing drags itself to the surface as he stands upright with no regard for his state of undress. His wetwork man’s nephew. The boy who’d stolen five million dollars from the Moriyamas and run with it for years. The money had only been partially recovered after Wesninski's death, and the remainder of the debt had been overlooked for Hatford's sake as long as the boy didn't make himself a problem again, but here he was back in Moriyama's path. “You’re my Butcher’s son, Neil?” He asks in an icy voice he barely recognizes in this office. His two businesses have never bled together like this before.
“Your Butch—” Neil’s voice seems to fall away from his face along with all of his blood as he flinches hard enough to ram himself back against the wall. Terror floods into his eyes and he flails at the doorknob, but his hand smacks off of it instead of seizing it due to his knees giving out. The only sounds in the office now are the rapid breaths wheezing out of the boy cringing on his office carpet, ratcheting quickly up to hyperventilation.
Slowly, slowly, the empathy he can’t be bothered to feel for any “normal” person wrings itself into him at the sight of a sub breaking down into a panic attack. He remembers three years ago when Hatford stormed into his office and told him about Wesninski torturing this boy, and looks over the scars on his cheeks and hands with new eyes. He sees the way Hatford is tense next to him, his eyes conveying a warning, a refusal to hurt his own nephew should Lord Moriyama order it, but he’s respectfully silent, waiting. The way their power roles have snapped into reversal in this office make his mouth taste like ash. He drops his chin in submissive apology to his Lord and tugs up his slacks.
Stuart relaxes beside him and touches his back, and they both move toward Neil at the same time. Ichirou lets Stuart reach his nephew first, watching the way his Lord drops to his knees at Neil’s side, first squeezing the young man’s shoulder to let him know he is there before pulling him into a hug. “It’s okay, Neil,” Stuart whispers. “Didn’t I tell you I’d already settled the debt by picking up Nathan’s slack? You’re all right. I apologize for my surprise, I didn’t know you frequented the club my sub and I run.”
A choke interrupts Neil’s too-fast breaths and is followed by an unhinged giggle. “W-when you said you were getting in bed with m-my father’s boss, I thought it was fig..figurat…at…” Neil can’t seem to finish the word, struggling for breath now as tears slide down his face. If anything, he’s panicking harder.
Ichirou quickly kneels down, because Stuart can’t be a Dom to his own nephew. He pulls Neil into his own arms, bringing a hand up to his hair and pressing his face into Ichirou’s shoulder. “Neil, you’re okay,” He murmurs in a deep voice, catching Stuart’s sharp gaze over Neil’s head before closing his eyes. He’ll reassure his Lord he hasn’t slept with his nephew later, when Neil isn’t a wreck in his arms. “Stuart said so, didn’t he? It’s settled, you’re okay. Are you done in the club for the day? Is Andrew coming to pick you up?”
Neil’s whole body seems to twitch and then relax at Andrew’s name. “Yes…” He whispers, still sounding a little fearful.
“Excellent,” Ichirou murmurs into his hair. “You’re doing well, just breathe. I asked Roland to send you up here because I heard about what Jack did last week, and I wanted to apologize. We’re putting more strict identification measures in place to prevent a banned Dom like him from ever setting foot in this establishment again, okay?”
Neil shudders in his arms as he strokes soothingly over the redhead’s back. “Yes…” Neil whispers again. Ichirou needs him to talk a little more, to see if he is really okay.
“How is your tattoo healing up? You haven’t been picking at it, right?” He ends in a sharp, teasing warning tone, and Neil giggles slightly in remembrance of his threat the day he’d done the tattoo.
Neil pulls back with a quiet sniffle to lean against the wall, holding out his wrist for Ichirou to inspect while wiping at his eyes with his free hand. “I’ve been following exactly what Daddy tells me to do to take care of it. I love it, thank you again for doing it for me,” He says shyly.
“You’re quite welcome, Red,” Ichirou says, smiling at Neil, and the sweet little sub tentatively smiles back. “Although…you know, Stuart really only did an even exchange by ‘picking up Nathan’s slack’.” He quotes Stuart’s earlier euphemism with a faint grin, but when Neil’s breath hitches in fear he quickly calms him with a discreet wink that Neil catches but not Stuart. “You did take off with a lot of money, but…you are very cute…” He muses as he lets his eyes rove Neil’s body meaningfully, and gasps in pleasure when he gets the exact response he wanted, a hard slap to his sore ass.
“Enough, you wretched little slut. I’ll pay back that money by my own hand,” – Stuart demonstrates his interpretation of that expression with another hard spank that wrenches a moan from Ichirou’s throat – “and you will keep Neil out of any business transactions from here forward, is that clear?”
Ichirou tips his face to Stuart with an acquiescent smile, but Neil pipes up, “Except tattoos.”
“…Except tattoos,” Stuart concedes before dropping the kiss Ichirou was hoping for on his lips. “With his Dom present.” His eyes focus on Neil again. “You have…a permanent Dom?” Neil’s response is to smile and blush gorgeously while fingering his collar. It really is a pity his collar and bloodline render him off limits for playing, Ichirou laments to himself.
Neil’s phone chirps in the slightly awkward room and he sits up from the wall. “That’s Andrew outside.”
“I’ll walk you down,” Stuart informs rather than offers, before glancing at Ichirou. “I rather think you deserve my cane for scaring my poor nephew like that. You can decide how many dollars each strike takes off that five million debt.”
Ichirou shivers in delight and murmurs cheekily, “Pleasure doing business with you. Thanks, Neil,” He winks at his fellow sub again, making the redhead giggle and give him a grateful, tremulous smile. As Stuart rolls his eyes and they leave, he walks back to his desk to sit down, rubbing his stinging ass against the chair through his slacks.
It takes Stuart a good ten minutes before he returns to the office, and rather than reaching for his cane from the coatrack, he sighs as he walks to the desk and scoops Ichirou up into his arms, taking his place on the chair and settling his sub into his lap. Ichirou snuggles in and looks curiously at the tired expression on Stuart’s face.
“I don’t suppose there is anything more uncomfortable than attempting a shovel talk on a fellow Dom,” Stuart tells him, and he laughs in surprise.
“You shovel talked Minyard?”
“Someone had to, and I’m Neil’s only family,” Stuart says indignantly. “Although I don’t suppose it could have gone much worse!” His hand finds Ichirou’s hair and starts to stroke it, relaxing them both.
Ichirou kisses Stuart’s throat and wheedles, “Tell me what happened…”
Stuart huffs into his hair. “Something like, ‘If you ever hurt my nephew, well, I expect he’ll want you to, if he’s your sub, but if you ever harm my nephew, beyond punishments he deserves, although I don’t know his limits, or need to know them Neil, don’t worry, we’ve no need to ever discuss that, just because we are family that share the same proclivities…’” He trails off and Ichirou snorts in amusement. “It was horrible. I told Minyard I’d make what Neil’s father did look like a child with a butter knife by comparison. Neil started cussing me out for threatening his Daddy, and Minyard pulled out a knife from God knows where and eyed me like he was looking for a good starting point before he said he’d cut his own dick off before bringing any actual harm to his sub. Then Neil fiercely informed us we were the two men he never wanted to lose, especially not to each other, and then Minyard and I shook hands rather awkwardly, and off they drove.”
Ichirou laughs gustily into Stuart’s shirt. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’ve known Andrew Minyard quite a long time and he’s one of the best Doms I know. Aside from you!” He tacks on hastily. “I’d have no problem trusting Neil to him, were I you.”
Stuart lets out a deep sigh. “Thank you. From you that reassurance goes a very long way. Now.” He squeezes Ichirou’s tender ass cheek, suddenly business-like. “Shall we go home? I think our business here is done for the evening and you’re rather a bit noisy under the cane for these walls.”
Ichirou laughs and agrees, catching Stuart’s mouth in a warm kiss as he slides off his lap and heads for the door.