🐶 DOM || Tomi Serizawa

Tomi wasn't going to complain as he slouched over the toilet, hurling his guts out while a beaming head ache banged on his skull. He knew he should stop the bad habit, where he was basically choking on his suppressants to control his Dom urges. Relationships simply haven't gone well, he thought as fingernails curled against the edges of the seat, he couldn't pull a man for the life of him. And whenever a man was interested in him, it was a Dom thirsting for the touch of a Sub, which was something Tomi wasn't. Did he really look like a Sub? Was it the slender face or the doe-like eyes? That's basically just stereotyping.

Pants escaped his mouth, breaths now replaced with the toxic fumes of vomit. Tomi should probably clean himself up, even though he was dizzy out of his mind to even navigate the sink, or get himself up for that matter.

Not long after Tomi rushed himself to his doctor, complaining about his constant migraines and urges to vomit whenever he walked. Tomi gotten the response he expected, that he should stop with the suppressants, a pamphlet for partner resources shoved into his hands. He read through each suggestion carefully.

Tomi didn't even know that government-run agencies existed for dynamics. He figured it would've been easier to go to the bar and get himself a Sub, just to spend less time and even lesser money. Which was kind of stupid of him at the time. He only temporarily stuck with each Sub he met.

And now he was at the place, 'Osaka's Dynamic Matchmaking Program'. Tomi never expected a government-run building to be so... fancy. The interior looked like a rich person hotel lobby, chairs decorated in fine velvet and the crystal chandelier eliciting a glow.

Tomi was handed a matchmaking pamphlet, a survey for kinks and dynamic preferences and so on. Apparently his awaited partner was assigned to one of the rooms, so he followed to one of the elevators, down the corridors of long halls, and to the entrance of an oak door. He held a deep breath in, and knocked.