Chapter Text
“I mean… I don’t know.”
Tooru hums in thought and relaxes against the cool cushions of the patio couch, gazing up at the pink-and-purple sunset sky sprinkled with a faint glitter of slowly appearing stars. He shoots a glance at Issei, who’s lounging at the other end of the couch, a bright-colored cocktail in his hand.
“So, how exactly does it work?”
Issei chuckles and smirks at him, a little too amused for Tooru’s liking. “So you are interested?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just curious.”
“Sure. If that’s what you want to call it.”
This earns Issei a pointed look paired with a trademark pout from the brown-haired man. “Just tell me, would you?”
“Alright, alright. As you wish, captain.” He sets his glass on a nearby table and clears his throat.
“It’s quite simple, really. You submit an online form where you say a few things about yourself, including stuff like your turn-ons, turn-offs, kinks, taboos—all that jazz. Then, you describe what sort of partner you’d be interested in playing with, and they match you up with someone. It usually doesn’t take too long. Once they find someone, they send you their details, and you can accept or decline. The other person has to do the same, naturally.”
“But how do they know what I look like? Do I need to upload my picture? I thought you said it was all anonymous,” Tooru asks with a slight frown.
“It is,” his friend nods. “You have the choice between uploading a picture with your face censored, or you can just describe yourself in writing.”
“I see.” Tooru shifts, propping his chin on his palm and tapping the fingers of his other hand on his knee.
Issei glances at him from the corner of his eye. “Anything else you’re curious about, cap?”
Tooru pretends to think longer than he actually has to—the truth is he is intrigued. But nobody really needs to know that, now, do they?
“So, what happens after both parties accept?”
“The magic, of course.” The dark-haired man grins. “Well, I mean… First, both parties get to pick and confirm their role unless they’ve specified those explicitly in their form. Or you can mutually decide that the club should assign your roles at random.”
“Roles?”
“Yeah. There are two: the Cat and the Mouse."
Tooru lets out a snort, and Issei’s grin widens.
“They even have fancy masks matching the role names for those who want to wear them.”
“And what’s the difference between the Cat and the Mouse roles?” Tooru asks, forgetting all about his fake act of mild curiosity.
“Ah, that’s the fun part.” Issei leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “The Mouse is invited to a room in one of the club’s many partner hotels. They get tied up in their preferred way. Can be practically anything: on the bed, on a chair, to the wall, shibari, standing up—the club provides the tools and the techniques. And, unless anything in the forms contradicts it, they get either masked or blindfolded. At the same time, the Cat gets the address and the key to this room. Once they get there, they’re free to do anything they want to the Mouse, save for the list of taboos. But they get a reminder about those on the same day.”
He eyes Tooru. “Interested yet?”
“I don’t know.” He does know.
“Ah, come on. I can tell you are.” Issei gives Tooru’s shoulder a light shove. “I think it would be a great way for you to relax after all those intense matches you just had.”
Tooru turns to take a good look at the other man’s face. “And you’re saying it’s totally safe?”
“Absolutely. You have my word, Oikawa-senshu,” Issei replies with his palm pressed against his chest. “The business owners are my close friends. And, despite having a very large number of high-profile clients, they’ve never had a single scandal, or any kind of issue for that matter.”
With a muffled groan, Tooru lets his head fall back against the cushions. “Fine. Just text me the damn number. I’ll think about it.” He pretends not to hear Issei’s victorious giggle.
“Roger that. Coming right up.” The dark-haired man grabs his phone and begins scrolling through his contact list.
“It better be allowed to put ‘wavy-haired grim reapers’ on the list of turn-offs,” Tooru grumbles.
It has Issei gaping at him in mock offense. “Wow. That’s low. But hey, I’ll make sure to put ‘mean Argentinian setters’ on mine,” he retorts with a smile and a wink.
Tooru chuckles. “Yeah, you do that.”
His phone vibrates, but he doesn’t check it. Instead, he gets up and gives his friend a fist bump. “I think I’m gonna go. Thanks, Issei.”
“Sure. Any time, man,” the dark-haired man replies. “Have fun!”
“You know I always do,” Tooru grins. “See you!”
Tooru would like to pretend that he took a reasonable amount of time to consider Issei's proposition. But he's just a little too tired and a little too impatient. He's only got a couple more weeks left in Japan before he has to hop on a plane and go back to his newfound home in Argentina. And sure, there are certainly still many new horizons he can explore there. But he can't help but think that leaving without getting a taste of the local cuisine of his original homeland would be a lost opportunity that he would very much regret later on. Besides, he can always decline whatever matches he receives, right?
He plops down on his bed, phone in hand, and texts the passphrase to the contact Issei shared with him. An automated greeting instantly appears on his screen, along with a few attachments and a link to the online form:
=^..^= =^..^= =^..^=
Welcome to The Twisted Whiskers! 😼🐭
Whether you’re a naughty little kitty or a curious little mouse, we promise to do our best to find a dream partner for you to play your dirty little games with ;)
You can find more details about the services we provide in the attached document. We like to believe there is something for everyone. After all, in our games of Cats and Mice YOUR imagination is the limit (just don’t forget about consent, cutie!)
Now, if you’re ready to play, all you gotta do is fill out our Playmate survey and transfer your membership fee. Just tap this link with your fluffy little paw and follow the instructions. Our advice: be open, be honest, know your limits—it will ensure both you and your partner(s) will have the best of experiences.
Once you’ve done that, we will message you as soon as we find THE perfect match for you!
Thank you for your interest, and play safe!
xoxo
=^..^= =^..^= =^..^=
Tooru opens the link and begins filling out the survey. It starts off with a bunch of very basic questions that one would expect to see, given the context. He opts to describe his appearance in writing rather than uploading a picture—it’d be far from impossible for someone to find out who he is even if he censored his face with how popular his social media has become in recent years.
He’s really pleased to discover that he’s required to upload relevant medical certificates for the club to grant him clearance to participate in their activities. This means he won’t have to worry about check-ups and tests after the fact, should he accept any of the Playmate matches he receives. Conveniently enough, he has all of the required documents since his team’s management always has all of the players go through very thorough medical check-ups before and after any competition.
The most interesting part of the survey, however, is, of course, the ‘Kink Map’, which also comprises the bulk of it. Tooru finds himself chuckling once in a while as he scrolls through the list, marvelling at some of the more exotic items on it—forced orgasms, sleep play, vore, tentacles, impregnation. He truly wonders how the club manages the logistics for some of these.
Although he considers himself quite open-minded when it comes to sex, Tooru decides to keep his list of preferences relatively restrained. Since this is a new experience, it may be wise to take it one step at a time. He can revise his list at a later point, anyway, once he’s had some satisfying experiences.
He double-checks everything he filled out and taps [Send]. The confirmation message arrives only a second later, telling him that it may take up to twelve hours for his application to be approved, after which they will begin looking for a match.
“Oh well. Let’s hope I don’t get matched up with someone I know,” he says to himself, setting his phone on the nightstand and hopping off the bed to go shower.
The following afternoon, Tooru gets his approval notice from ‘ The Twisted Whiskers’ , his phone lighting up and buzzing with the notification right in the middle of family lunch.
“Who’s that?” his mom inquires curiously.
“Oh, just the managers. But nothing important.” Tooru locks his screen hastily after taking a quick glance at the message and shoves the phone into his pocket.
Once he gets a quiet moment to himself a little later, he reads the message to confirm, that yes, they have, indeed, started to look for a Playmate for him.
It’s a bit of a shame, but he ends up having to decline the first offer that he gets a day later. The profile of the potential Playmate is a near-perfect match, but one of the listed requirements is that Tooru travels to a rather remote prefecture for the event. And, as much as he is intrigued, he is not that desperate.
Days go by, and Tooru nearly forgets all about the club and his application when, on a Saturday afternoon, he finally receives another message from ‘The Twisted Whiskers’, telling him that they found another match.
He opens the profile of the candidate, skimming through it—male, mid twenties, athletic build, dark hair, blue eyes—sounds good, so far.
“Wait, are you serious?” Tooru has to wonder aloud as he gets to the ‘Kink Map’ of his potential Playmate—nearly every item in every category is marked as a preference, save for the more exotic and hardcore kinks. This guy must either be really experienced or plain crazy. Or stupid.
Tooru hums, skipping to the taboo section and finds himself giggling because the way the ‘Additional Notes’ are written is so formal and polite—it looks very out of place. Comically so.
- I apologise, but I would have to decline anything that would impair my physical fitness in any capacity.
- I apologise, but I have to exclude kisses on the mouth as I find the act too intimate to perform with an individual I am not familiar with.
“And the rest of your neverending list of kinks is, apparently, okay?” Tooru can’t help but comment.
- I apologise, but I am not a very talkative person. I hope that won’t be a problem for you.
“Oh well. It’s not like we’ll be there to talk anyways.”
- I would prefer a blindfold rather than a mask.
- I wouldn’t mind either one of the roles.
Tooru lets out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Thank God. I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end with such a crazy fucker in the room.”
He scrolls back to the beginning of the profile and goes through it once again, double-checking a few details that he finds especially important or interesting, and before he even registers it, his thumb taps the [Accept] button.
“Here goes nothing.” The only thing left to do now is wait for the confirmation from the club. The mystery Playmate may reject him, after all.
And Tooru is about to put his phone away when a new message appears on his screen. Turns out his Playmate accepted the match before the offer was sent out to Tooru. What do you know?
Tooru shivers at the wave of nervousness and excitement rippling through his body.
He follows the link included in the message where, among other things, he’s offered to pick his role. ’Cat’, obviously. He needs to see how crazy the guy truly is before he can let himself be the one to sit back and enjoy—’enjoy’ being the keyword here.
All of the dates and locations suggested seem viable. Tooru’s evenings (and nights) are mostly free during his stay. Without too much deliberation, he picks the following night—Sunday, 8:00 pm. He sees no point in waiting. Besides, if he finds the session enjoyable, he could potentially book more before he has to leave.
He grins as he presses the button to confirm the details.
“Alright. Let’s see how much you can actually handle, mister ‘I Want It All’”
Early Sunday afternoon, Tooru receives a package containing a fancy envelope with a greeting card from the club, a printed-out reminder about his Playmate’s taboos and another card with the address of the hotel as well as the number of the room where his ‘Mouse’ will await his arrival.
The last item in the package is a high-quality Venetian cat mask decorated with a hand-painted Harlequin pattern in white, red and black colors. Tooru doesn’t think he will need it, seeing how his partner will be blindfolded anyway. But it’s a nice memento to take back home in case he ends up making any good memories.
Before leaving the house, he gives the list of taboos a thorough read to make sure nothing got added to it compared to the version he saw last night.
The drive only takes him half an hour. His Playmate was quite flexible regarding the location, and Tooru’s ego compelled him to request that they travel somewhere close to where he is. But, of course, not too close. He would like to minimize the chances of running into somebody he knows at the hotel.
He makes his way to room number 9 and exhales sharply, letting the rest of his nervousness out before unlocking the door and crossing the threshold.
The room looks very modern, decorated in shades of dark gray, white and red. A heavy, velvet curtain separates the entrance area from the middle part of the room, where the ‘Mouse’ is supposedly waiting for Tooru.
He closes the door quietly and locks it, which makes a loud click.
“Is someone there?” He hears a voice from behind the curtain.
Why did it sound so familiar?
Tooru can’t quite explain it, but he decides to ignore the question. He begins getting a weird feeling in his gut. Leaving is still an option, right?
There’s no way, however, that he would leave without satisfying his curiosity. He walks up to the curtain, counts to three in his head and pushes it out of the way.
His eyes land on a perfectly sculpted, naked body tied up to a crimson frame in the middle of the room in a Spread Eagle position. Tooru’s gaze darts all over it, taking in details that make his heart sink—leg and arm bruises and scratches common for volleyball players, taped fingers.
As requested, instead of wearing a mask, the man is blindfolded with a strip of red fabric, making his hair fully visible. And as much as he wouldn’t want to admit it, Tooru could never mistake these dark, inky bangs falling over a face that he remembers a lot rounder, for anybody else’s.
“Good evening,” the tied-up man says politely, and it leaves no doubt in Tooru’s mind.
This is Kageyama Tobio.