A/N: I dedicate this to Tumblr user minksfinebooty because she said "Swiggity Swag, fuck that Dad."
Mizuki's breath caught in his throat and his heart began to hammer wildly, threatening to burst through his ribcage. His entire body felt number than ice and his head was almost unbearably light, his eyes refusing to focus on one particular point. As he'd walked into Aoba's kitchen, he'd been met with a (rather pleasant) surprise. Aoba's father, Nain, apparently having come straight out of the bath, had entered the room at the same time.
Mr Seragaki was wearing nothing but a towel that clung to his hips in the most delicious way. A cloud of steam billowed around his ankles and beads of water glistened on his bare chest, drawing Mizuki's attention to the man's fit body. Oh god, what a hot Dad. His hair was tangled and dishevelled, sticking up in clumps and framing his chiselled, angular facial features. His golden eyes met Mizuki's and he smiled, more with his eyes than his mouth. It drove Mizuki wild.
"Hey there," Nain greeted, placing his palm down on the kitchen table and leaning his weight on it, his hip jutting out almost teasingly. Mizuki admired the way his muscles rippled with every movement, emphasising the perfection of his stomach and arms. "You're Aoba's friend, right? The aspiring tattoo artist."
"Y-yeah," Mizuki stammered, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. Aoba's Dad knew about him. Miracles really did happen. His heart was still beating faster than he thought was even possible, and his chest was tight, making it rather difficult to breath. The smirk that crept across Aoba's Dad's face also didn't help much, forcing Mizuki to clear his throat and slyly move behind one of the kitchen chairs to hide his boner.
"I'd let you ink me any day, if you know what I mean," Nain said slowly, playfully dragging out every syllable in his soft, velvety voice. A pathetic squeaking noise escaped Mizuki before he could help himself and Nain grinned confidently. "You know, if you came here to see Aoba, he's not in at the moment," he continued, cocking an eyebrow suggestively.
Mizuki felt a cold sweat prickling across his back. "M-Mr Seragaki..." he mumbled, backing away and stumbling over his feet even more than his words. "What about your wife?"
Nain scoffed. "What about your raging erection?" he asked, jerking his chin towards Mizuki's crotch. Mizuki silently berated himself for his choice of pants, which did nothing to disguise his arousal. "So, are we gonna fuck or what?" Nain asked, suddenly getting serious. His eyes took on a concentrated gleam, narrowing on Mizuki's awkward expression.
Mizuki watched in shock as Nain's fingertips trailed down his own body, caressing his stomach lightly, until they reached the towel he wore. In one deft movement, the towel suddenly tumbled to the floor and Mizuki found himself face to face with Aoba's Dad's phallus. Shamefully, he didn't turn away. Even more shamefully, his mouth began to water and he felt a need stirring deep in his loins.
"Don't make me ask you again, kid," Nain said, taking command of the situation. "Are we gonna fuck or what?"
"Yes sir," Mizuki replied, his own hand immediately flying to his fly. He cleared his throat and found an ounce of courage. "I should correct you on two things, though. One, I'm not an aspiring tattoo artist - I am a tattoo artist. And two, I'm not a kid. If you need me to, I'm more than willing to prove that."