Jack stretched his arms and legs, kicking his sheets to the bottom of the bed. The sun was just beginning to peek into his bedroom and a glance at his bedside clock indicated it was nearly six.

He’d tossed and turned for hours after his first chat with Callum, lying in bed and wondering if he had taken his instruction or if he’d laughed it off. Jack worried Callum wouldn’t message him after work, that he’d never hear from the attractive West Coast kid with the mop of unruly brown hair and vibrant green eyes again.

Jack had thought about it, and while his ideal was not an online relationship, it wouldn’t really be all that bad. If nothing else, he could teach Callum a thing or two then send him off to meet someone who was local. He didn’t mind being a stepping stone, and having someone to play with online was better than no one at all.

Of his core friend group, there were two of them left in New York, Bowie and Joseph, and Bowie was about to make a move to Kentucky. The other two, Landon and Verity, had moved to California four years ago, only coming back once since then. And while Jack was sociable enough and friendly with those he knew, making new friends wasn’t something he’d done since college.

He’d hoped meeting someone online would be easier. So far it had been.

The chat app on Jack’s phone pinged and he pulled it off the charger and slid his finger across the glass to wake the screen.

Jack liked that. It had been far too long since someone had called him that, short of his friends as a joke. Finding someone to have the kind of relationship that he wanted to have had always been difficult. The trade-off and the expectations of both parties rarely aligned, at least in his experience. But then, here was Callum, so new, and eager, and malleable.

Jack pushed his hand down his pants and slid it lazily up and down his cock. Already hard for the morning, the thought of dishing out punishment spankings sent more blood between his legs.

While Callum keyed in a response, Jack tossed his phone onto the pillow and squirted some lube into his palm. He took his cock in hand and fucked himself with long and slow pulls up his entire length and waited. His phone dinged an incoming message and he tapped the screen on with his dry hand.

They’d have to work on the Daddy part, Jack thought to himself. It was oftentimes the hardest part for people to get on board with. There were so many misconceptions, especially around people who weren’t familiar with the Daddy dynamic. Calling someone Daddy didn’t mean you engaged in age play; those were two different kinks, two different end results, but people who didn’t know better assumed the two were interchangeable and sometimes struggled with the endearment.

And Daddy wasn’t even so much an endearment as it was a term of respect, a term of responsibility even.

The chat dinged with a file upload, and Jack chuckled to himself, aware that Callum had jerked himself to completion in under three minutes.

Jack opened the file and his heart caught in his throat. It was a video. Nothing obscene, at least nothing yet, just Callum’s face with those eyes that were so green they looked like they’d glow in the dark.

Callum looked sleepy and he blinked at the camera, eyes flicking around as if they weren’t sure where to focus, then his lower lip fell, just slightly, parting his mouth. The pink tip of his tongue darted out and licked the corner of his mouth just as a breathy sigh left his throat. It floated through the speaker of Jack’s phone like a melody.

The video moved around, the frame jostling as Callum jerked his cock more aggressively. Jack could hear familiar lube-slick sounds in the background, sliding at a quick and fevered pace. Callum’s cheeks pinked, obscuring the delicate spattering of freckles that lined his cheekbones. He moaned again, louder now, his jaw slack and eyes heavy with lust.

“Oh, God,” Callum in the video said, his voice a raspy sounding alto that vibrated in Jack’s bones.

“Fuck. I’m so close,” he breathed out, the wet pump of his fist coming up faster and faster. Jack watched, rapt, and jerked his own cock in time with Callum. Jack’s orgasm came quickly, and he fought it back, saving it for the end of the video.

“Oh… Callum sounded surprised, then, “Oh, God, Daddy. Fuck.”

Callum’s face fell out of the frame and his body jerked, his scratchy voice spilling a serenade of moans and grunts and Daddy. The video refocused and Callum was there again, his fingers coated with drips of white cum which he held up in front of his mouth. He licked his hand, tongue darting between the webbing of his fingers, lapping up the evidence of his orgasm. Then the video ended, freezing on the final frame of Callum’s hand spread against his face, his tongue flat against his palm.

Jack came then, ribbons of hot cum shooting up his stomach and chest. He used his fingers to wipe himself clean like Callum had, then licked his fingers too, imagining the cum on his tongue was Callum’s. Or even better, a mixture of both of their releases. Jack groaned against his fingers, drying them on the sheets.

Jack’s stomach twisted into a pretzel, his heart making that same tight feeling in his chest as the first time Callum called him Daddy. He’d been stupid to think that something online would be passing or trivial. There was something about Callum that felt special, sacred even.

Jack watched the video of Callum one more time, then plugged his phone back in and got out of bed. He went into his kitchen, starting a pot of coffee, then took a quick shower. He dressed casually in jeans and a long sleeve shirt, prepared for the brisk New York spring once he went outside.

Jack poured himself a cup of coffee and turned on the news, grabbing his phone off the charger and watching the video Callum sent him one more time for good measure. He tucked his phone and wallet into his pockets, grabbed his keys from the change bowl on his kitchen counter, then headed out toward Paws and Claws Animal Rescue.

He’d been volunteering at the shelter every Saturday morning for almost a year. They had a free vaccine clinic, so the staff was always stretched thin. He spent time with dogs in the play yard mostly, and sometimes he helped the groomers with baths if it was needed. Helping at the shelter was hard; he found himself growing attached to the animals more than he’d care to admit, but his apartment was far too small for him to ever bring one home. Sharing his attention around as many of the animals in the shelter as he could was the next best thing.

Jack walked the mile to the shelter and waved a greeting at the receptionist, Holly, as he signed in.

“You’re up early,” she observed, sipping from her pink travel mug.

“I had a call from someone in LA,” he shared, tucking the pen back into the clipboard.

“Even earlier for them.” She eyed him speculatively.

Holly had been trying to set him up with people for months. Once she’d found out he was not only single but gay, she’d made it her mission to find a passable suitor for Jack. He’d never had the heart to tell her that his interests were perhaps a little more intense than the standard person would be into, so he humored her but put her off as best he could.

Jack winked at her, hoping to give her some kind of impression about what he’d been up to so maybe she would get the hint.

“You devil,” she teased, taking the bait.

Jack shrugged and smirked at her. “Where do you want me today?”

“Travis can use some help with the baths to start with.”

“I’ll head that way then.” Jack drummed his fingers across the counter and waved over his shoulder.

Holly buzzed the door and Jack strolled through the shelter, saying hi to every dog he passed and finding Travis in the back grooming room wrestling a wet Dachshund into the steel sink.

“There’s a joke here somewhere, I know it,” Jack said in way of greeting.

Travis looked over his shoulder and glared, finally getting the doxie clipped into the harness. He wiped his hands down the apron he wore and extended one toward Jack.

“Good morning to you, good sir. You know I love to spend my Saturdays wrestling wieners.”

“Oh!” Jack laughed, “That was the joke! You found it.”

“Don’t tell Holly that we’re back here making dick jokes; she’ll catch on to me.” Travis squirted some shampoo in his hand and set to scrubbing the dog’s fur.

Jack pulled an apron from the back of the door and joined Travis, bumping their shoulders together.

“Does she really not know you’re gay?”

“No idea.” Travis laughed and rinsed the dog.

“I think she might. There’s no reason for her to send me back here every week to help you. You can manage the wiener with your own two hands.”

“She is far too transparent for something that calculated,” Travis said, hoisting the dog onto a steel table to dry him.

“I dunno, man. Maybe she’s playing the long game.”

“I adore her, but that girl doesn’t have a long game. She has a here to Bloomingdale’s game.”

Jack helped Travis dry the dog, plugging in a second blow dryer and powering it on.

“I don’t think you give her enough credit.”

The door to the grooming center opened and Holly stuck her head in. She scanned the room, her eyes landing on Jack and Travis beside each other with the half-dry dog between them.

“You guys got that wiener under control?” she asked with a smirk, then closed the door before either of them had time to answer.

Jack and Travis exchanged a look and Jack raised his eyebrows with a small laugh. “Here to Bloomingdale’s my ass.”