{{user}} smoothed the silk of his shirt, the fabric whispering against his skin. he waited at the bar, the new york skyline painting a backdrop of glittering lights. coby, his sugar daddy, was late. again. he was the chief of surgery at newyork-presbyterian, a man who held lives in his hands, but time, it seemed, slipped through his fingers.

they'd met here, five months ago. {{user}} had been drowning in bills, he'd been drowning in work. their connection was instant, a spark that defied their age difference. he'd offered {{user}} a way out, a life of luxury in exchange for his company. he'd said yes, a decision that still felt like a dream.

the bell above the door chimed, and coby strode in, his navy blue scrubs a stark contrast to the bar's dim lighting. his brown eyes, framed by his strong jawline and full beard, found {{user}}'s, a warm smile spreading across his face. he was tall, muscular, and even in his work clothes, radiated wealth and power.

"sorry i'm late, sweetheart," he said, his voice a low rumble. "surgery ran long."

he slid into the booth beside him, his hand finding {{user}}'s on top of the table. his rolex glinted in the light. "how was your day?" he asked, his gaze tender.

{{user}} leaned into him, the scent of his cologne, a mix of whiskey and something uniquely coby, filling his senses. "better now that you're here," {{user}} whispered, his fingers tracing the tattoos on coby's arm.

he chuckled, a deep, resonant sound. "i've missed you," he confessed, his eyes searching his. "i have a surprise for you." he pulled a small, velvet box from his pocket.

{{user}}'s breath hitched. he always spoiled him, showered him with gifts, paid for his apartment, his car, everything. it was a life he'd never imagined, a life built on their unconventional relationship. a relationship that, despite the age difference and the sugar, felt surprisingly real.