Date: Fri, 16 Aug 2019 18:42:17 -0400 From: RJ Subject: To Know What You Want - Ch. 4 To Know What You Want by RJ This story is about a high school sophomore who hits it off with a young man he meets on a dating app. Though the age gap is not large, if themes of adult/youth offend you, do not read. If you have any questions or comments about this piece, want to know about any of my other works, or just want to reach out, please don't hesitate to email me. A list of my works, including links and descriptions, can be found here: https://bit.ly/2S5IYDI. If you would like to be added to a mailing list for this story (or all stories) and receive emails about any updates, let me know. Please also consider donating to Nifty if you can: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ~ Chapter 4 ~ I'm honestly surprised by how easy this gig is. Mostly, I just man the register, which is a piece of cake since record stores are never exactly busy. Sometimes I organize incoming donations that the owner brings in, and every now and then I'll have to slap a "SALE!" sticker on something. But it's a simple job. I don't even have to open or close the shop since I work in the middle of the day and the owner prefers their family members to handle opening and lockup -- which is fine by me. Plus, the customers are always chill and there's so much downtime that I can just fuck around on my phone, or my laptop if I decide to bring it. This is the job for me. The best part about it, though, is its location. Danny's just a few minutes away by car. And sure enough, halfway through my shift, I hear the little bell that signals a customer. When I look up, I see that big lug looking around before his eyes settle on me. Then he smiles. "Hey, papito," he teases, coming over to the counter. I blush but laugh. "Hi." He rests his forearms on top of the counter and then leans in with a smirk, clearly wanting me to meet him halfway. I look around. "Right here?" "What?" he asks. "No one's here." "My boss is in the backroom," I tell him. "Make it quick then," Danny says, his eyes going to my lips. I sigh a bit, trying my best not to smile. Of course, I fail miserably. I slide off of my chair, lean over the counter, and plant a kiss on his lips. Danny doesn't move an inch, even after I've pulled away. He just stays there, grinning at me a bit. "You can go now," I tease. "Ouch," he says, chuckling before inspecting the merchandise on the counter. There's an array of buttons and stickers available for purchase. "Thought you'd be happy to see me." "I'm always happy to see you," I say. "Good boy," he says, and I swear I get a teensy bit horny hearing him say that. "How's the job?" he asks, before he's distracted by the song playing. He points to the ceiling before grinning and asking "Is that Zeppelin?" I nod, smirking. That's another perk of this job: the constant music playing. All in all, it's nice to just kick back and listen to music that I otherwise would have never given a shot. Sometimes we play jazz. Other times it's hardcore, or O.G. punk, or shoegaze, or hidden gems from the 80s, or whatever genre music in the 50s is. The more I work, the more I develop an appreciation for artists like David Bowie or Queen, and I'll more often than not get to jam out to old favorites like Rage Against the Machine and Led Zeppelin. "Nice," Danny says, nodding his head to "Ramble On" with a smile. "Love this song." "It's great." "You're great," he says, smirking. I roll my eyes fondly. "Don't start." "*So* fucking great," he teases. I look away. "If you don't stop with the compliments--" "Alright, I'll cut back," he says with a laugh before leaning over the desk again. He extends his arm and grips my shirt. "But kiss me." "Danny--" "Kiss me if you want me to shut up." I glare at him before letting him tug me in for a kiss. We let it linger just a little longer than before, but I pull back, feeling flustered. God, I love kissing him. "There," I mutter. "You have the nicest lips, Jaxie," he says with a coy smile. "I thought you said you'd shut up." "I lied," he says, shrugging. I laugh. "I fucking hate you." "Love ya," he says cheekily. I immediately blush. Did he just say... he loves me? Did he mean it that way, or was he just saying it in that all-too-casual way of his? I mean, we've only been dating for barely a month. It's too soon, isn't it? Luckily, he switches the topic over to music before I have to come up with a response. When he asks for new recommendations, I start writing up a list. I even step away from the counter and show him where some of the artists are located in the store (though, because we're alone, it's mostly ass-grabs and me copping feels). Just when I'm fantasizing about Danny bending me over a stack of Johnny Cash albums, a customer walks in, and I hurry back to the register in case they need anything. Danny stays for another half hour or so, mostly just to keep me company. He's letting me draw a beetle on his forearm with a pen when he asks me "Hey, did you make up with your friend yet?" I wince slightly, shaking my head. "Nope." After I punched Pete on Friday, we haven't spoken. Now it's Sunday, and I'm afraid of what he'll say tomorrow when I see him at school. "You gonna tell him?" "Tell him what?" I ask, retracing the line on one of the beetle's legs. "That you're a cock-loving fiend." I glare at him and he laughs. "Just trying to be light," he says. Part of me is irritated by that, and part of me is turned on by it -- especially the way he pronounces "cock." It just sounds so bluntly sexual that I have to shift in my seat a bit. "But seriously," he continues, "you think you'll ever come out to him?" I shrug before focusing on his pretend-tattoo. "I don't know. Probably not." Pete's probably too much of a dick to understand that people who aren't straight, white-looking Republicans are still people. But I could be wrong. Pete does have a soft side to him. He just rarely ever shows it. And, considering the way I reacted, he probably has a good idea of where I stand on the sexuality spectrum. Danny doesn't seem too worried. "You'll figure it out," he says, watching me apply the ink to his skin. I give it one last finishing touch before pulling back. "There. Beautiful." "I'll say," he says, blowing on it and making me laugh. Then he smiles. "You're outta here at five, right?" I nod. "What are you doing after?" he asks me, looking devious. "Um. Nothing, probably." Does he have something in mind? "So you can come by for dinner, is what you're saying," Danny says with a smirk. I smile. "Yeah, I can do that." "Good." He leans in and gives me another kiss, even though it's quicker. "You're leaving?" I ask, giving him the slightest pout. "I gotta make dinner, don't I?" "I guess," I tell him. I glance at the clock hanging on the wall behind me. It's only an hour away. I can manage. "Meet me at my apartment when you're out," he says, turning to leave. "Okay," I say dreamily before I realize what he said. "Wait, what? Your apartment?" I question, making him stop and turn. "Not your parents'?" "Yes, my apartment," he says. "But--" "Yes, Jess will be there," he says, coming back to the counter as he confirms my suspicions, "and yes, she knows you and I are together, and yes, I'm going to show you off." He starts leaning in for another reassuring kiss, but I just blush. "Danny, I--" He presses his lips against mine for a quick peck before grinning and turning around. "See you at five!" he says, and before I can stop him, he's out the door. I'm nervous for the rest of my shift. I almost wish it was busy today and that I had a steady influx of customers to distract me, but nope. It's as quiet as fucking ever. The next worker (the boss's niece, I think) comes in on time to relieve me. We only chat for a little bit -- all those mandatory "How are ya?"s and whatnot, but she's a nice girl, so I don't mind making small talk with her. Plus, it's something I can preoccupy myself with, rather than thoughts of facing Danny's ex-girlfriend/baby mama. When my shift is officially over, I take my mom's car over to Danny's place, feeling ill-prepared. I hope Jess is cool. I hope she doesn't fucking hate me. I hope I can make a good impression, and not look stupid, and avoid getting jealous all over again. That's my biggest fear: that I'll freak out. I knock on the door to their apartment, my leg twitching and my stomach feeling like it wants to heave. Then, I hear the lock mechanism disengage before the door swings open. It's Jess who answers. "Hey!" she says cheerfully before ushering me inside. She surprises me with a brief but strong hug, and it takes me a second before I remember to put my arms around her as well. "Good to see you again!" she adds when she pulls back. "Um. Yeah, you too," I say with a little smile. So far so good. She seems genuine. "Make yourself comfortable," she says, waving generally towards the living room. "Danny's in the shower, so he'll be out soon." "Okay," I say, deciding to take a seat on the couch. It'll give me enough distance between Jess and myself for me to feel comfortable. Of course Danny had to shower right before I got here. I was hoping he'd be here as my social anchor when interacting with Jess. But still -- I need to fucking relax. Jess is obviously a sweet, welcoming girl. I keep telling myself to just be normal. I see little Riley on the floor playing with some sort of doll as I take a seat, and when he notices me, he stares before smiling. I smile back, giving him a little wave. Immediately, Riley giggles. Adorable little fucker. "You want anything, babe?" Jess asks me from the kitchen as she stirs something in a saucepan. "Dinner's basically almost ready, but if you want a drink or something..." Babe? Must just be the way she talks to everyone. "I'm good," I tell her. "Thanks though." I look back towards Riley, laughing softly when I see that he just keeps smiling over at me. "C'mere," I say, patting my lap as if I was talking to a dog. It works though. Riley crawls over and forces himself up to his feet when he's between my legs. I smile, scooping my hands under his armpits and pulling him up to a comfortable position in my lap. Just then, I hear Danny's voice. "What a lovely sight." I turn my head and see him standing against the open entrance to the living room, wearing a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt and looking freshly showered. I get that little surge in my stomach whenever I see him. He gives me a grin before he comes over. "Hey baby," he says as he bends over to lean into me. "Hey," I say back, smiling even as our lips connect for a kiss. He comes and sits right next to me, loosely putting an arm behind my shoulder. "How was the rest of your shift?" "It was fine," I say with a shrug, bouncing Riley casually in my lap. "I was bored after you left." "Aww, did you miss me?" "Did *you* miss *me*?" I fire back, looking at him. "Honestly?" he says, pulling back. "Not really." I make a sour face until I realize he's joking -- to which he bursts out laughing. "You're lucky I'm holding your kid," I mutter. "Yeah? What were you gonna do otherwise?" "I'll show you later," I say in a playful tone, giving him a cocky look. A huge grin appears on his face, because he can tell exactly what I'm teasing: sex. In response, he leans in for another kiss, though he makes this one slow and sensual. Then we hear Jess clear her throat. "Ahem," she says, and both of us separate. I'm sure I look embarrassed, but Danny just grins at her. "What?" he asks, pretending to be innocent. "Less kissing, more setting the table like you promised," she says, pointing a wooden spoon at him. There's no anger or edge to her voice. In fact, it looks like she's smirking a little too, which makes me feel less bad. "Gah. Fine," Danny whines, but he sneaks in another quick kiss before getting up and helping Jess. I misjudged her. Frankly, I guess I never really gave her a chance at the beginning, but she's actually really sweet -- and, most importantly, she doesn't flirt with Danny at all. Throughout the meal, I'm quick to analyze each of her movements, but the more I watch the two of them interact, the more I realize that they really are just friends that happen to have a child together. If there ever was romance between them, it's long gone. She's nice to me, too. She asks me a lot of questions ("Because Danny seems to like keeping you a secret") and constantly makes me feel like I'm a major part of the conversation. It all feels sincere, too. I don't get the vibe that she's trying too hard to include me or come off as an understanding person. She's just a sweet girl, plain and simple. "Have you met his parents yet?" she asks me at one point, cocking her head towards Danny as she feeds Riley a spoonful of mashed potatoes. "No," I say, glancing at Danny. She just laughs. "Oh, you're in for a treat," she says sarcastically. Danny hits her forearm with the back of his hand. "Don't scare him off." "I'm not trying to scare him off," she says, "but *you* need to prepare him." "Prepare me?" I ask, suddenly nervous. I know he doesn't exactly speak highly of his folks, but shit... What am I in for? Danny looks at me and sighs. "My parents are kinda..." "Douchebags?" Jess suggests. He ignores her. "They're a bit elitist," he says, "so they can come off kinda harsh." "Kinda?" Jess laughs a little bit, looking at Danny. "Your mom told me I dressed like a whore." "Well she was right, wasn't she?" Danny jokes. He bursts out laughing when Jess's jaw drops, slapping the table lightly. "I'm sorry, you walked into that one." "You're such a dick," she says, shaking her head -- but she's smiling, because she knows it's all in good fun. "Jax deserves better than you." "Aww, don't say that," Danny says with a laugh, looking at me. "I treat Jax pretty well." I blush and smile. "Most days." Jess snorts. "And that's the fuckin' truth." By the end of dinner, I feel thoroughly welcomed by Jess, especially after teaming up to poke loving fun at Danny -- who takes it all with a wide smile. Even after we finish our meals, we all end up sitting at the table and chatting for an extra half an hour, and even though the conversation goes in twenty different directions, I'm having a great time. I'm so glad I was wrong about Jess. The evening peaks when Riley decides to throw up on me. Since he's taken such a liking to me, I'm bouncing him in my lap when, all of a sudden, he vomits right against my neck and down my goddamn shirt. I feel that disgusted shiver ripple through my whole fucking body, and Jess leaps to her feet to help me, all apologetic and sincere. And fucking Danny, as unhelpful as he is, just cackles in his seat. "Nice one, Riles," Danny teases. "Fuck you," I mutter towards Danny, totally embarrassed. But Jess seems to be on my side. "At least get him a shirt to wear," she says, and Danny holds his hands up in mock surrender before stepping away from the table and heading towards his room. Jess just sighs, dabbing at the mess with a napkin as she holds Riley in her other arm. "I'm so sorry." "It's okay," I say, trying to laugh it off. Frankly, it *is* pretty funny, but it's still uncomfortable. "Do you wanna shower or anything?" she asks. "I don't *have* to," I say, but she seems to insist. "We have fresh towels and everything in the bathroom," she says, and I just smile. She sounds just like my mom when we have guests, so I recognize that tone very well. It's her way of indirectly begging me to take advantage of her offer. "Alright," I say, nodding. Jess shows me to the bathroom and points out where everything is before leaving me to my devices while she sets Riley down. I hop in the shower to rinse the contents of Riley's stomach off my body, and while I'm in there, I figure I might as well just shower thoroughly, so I take my time getting nice and clean before stepping out. I dry off quickly and pull my underwear back on just as someone knocks on the door. "You done?" Danny's voice asks. "Yeah." I hear the doorknob click and he steps inside, smiling and looking me up and down. "Got a shirt for you," he says, holding up what looks to be a band t-shirt -- Hiatus Kaiyote. "I fucking cherish this shirt, so be gentle with her," he adds with a smirk. I grin a bit, taking it from him. "Whatever," I mutter, pulling it over my head and sighing softly. Fuck, it smells just like him. Maybe I won't give it back. "Sorry I was too busy laughing at you to help earlier," he adds with a teasing smile. "Yeah, fuck you for that," I say, laughing as I lean down to grab my jeans. Before I can get my foot into my pants, he stops me. "Leave those off." I look up at him, cocking an eyebrow. "I wanna cuddle, and I prefer you pantsless." I blush slightly but nod with a little smile. "Fine." He takes my hand, making me leave my jeans on the bathroom floor as he leads me into the living room. There's already a pint of ice cream and a spoon at the coffee table, and I grin slightly as he scoops them up and sits back on the couch with a heavy sigh. "C'mere, you," he says, patting his lap. I sit sideways in his lap, legs resting on the couch with him holding me in one arm like a baby. As he opens the pint of ice cream (American Dream flavored, of course) while keeping both arms around me, I glance at the TV. "What are you watching?" I ask. "Parks and Rec." "Is it any good?" I ask, and I laugh when I look at him and see his astonished face. "Is it any good?" he repeats, looking scandalized. "I'm gonna pretend like you didn't ask me that question." I bite my lip. "Sorry. I haven't seen it." "Well, I'm here to fix your mistakes, clearly," he says with a grin, scooping a bit of his ice cream and guiding the spoon to my lips. Blushing, I open my mouth and accept the offer, licking my lips after. As I watch him take a bite for himself from the same spoon, I consider whether or not I want to bring it up at all: the question that's been burning on my mind ever since he visited me at work. I figure, why not? If my real age hasn't totally scared him off, I think I'll be okay to get something off my chest that I know will drive me fucking insane if I don't. "Did you mean it?" I ask. Danny licks ice cream off his lips. "Mean what?" he asks, mid-swallow. "What you said at the store." He pauses for a moment as he looks at me, clearly not catching what I'm referring to. "What'd I say?" I sigh a little bit. I'm gonna have to spell it out, aren't I? "'Love ya'," I say, mocking his accent. "Did I?" he says, laughing slightly. I immediately feel embarrassed. "Huh. Well, I mean, yeah, I probably meant it," he says. I stare at him. "Probably?" He chuckles. "You're gonna make me dig myself into a hole, aren't you?" he asks before clearing his throat. "I mean, look." He sets the ice cream and spoon down on the coffee table before wrapping both of his arms around me. "I don't know what's on your mind, but... I love where we're at, you know? And I have a lot of love for you. Am I super crazy-in-love, head-over-heels, hopelessly devoted? No." He smiles gently at me. "Not yet, at least. There's still a lot I wanna know about you, Jax. And there's still a lot I want you to know about *me*." I nod slightly. Okay. This is good, right? I can live with this. He's into me, and even if he's not "in love" with me completely yet, it's only because we need more time. That's what he's saying, right? "Okay," I say, still processing everything. This is fine. This is a good thing. Danny smiles, looking amused. "Do you hate me?" "What? No," I say, laughing. "Sorry, I'm just... I didn't know what you meant earlier. And now I know." I nudge his chest lightly with my knuckles. "I like where we're at, too. A lot." Danny leans in and gives my shoulder a little kiss, and when I tilt my face towards him, he kisses me firmly on the lips, humming "Sexy boy" across my mouth. I blush and smile against his lips, and when the kiss breaks, he looks at me lustfully. "Have I ever told you how damn attractive you are?" I laugh, looking away. "Don't start this again." He chuckles in my ear, nipping at my ear lobe with a soft growl. "My little bad boy." "Shut up," I tell him, his tone of voice only making me hard. "No." Then he tilts my face towards his and plants a sure kiss against my lips. I melt into it, my eyes fluttering slightly. God, I can barely keep my wits about me when he kisses me like that. Our lips separate with a soft, wet smack, and I smile tenderly, keeping my face close to his. "I feel like we make a killer team." "Pretty good-looking team," I chirp. He laughs. "Damn straight." I bite my lip, pawing at his shirt slightly. "I'm gonna say something." He grins. "Say it." "Have I ever told you," I start to say, mocking him playfully, "how hot it is that you're a dad?" He snorts. "Wait, really?" he asks, looking amused. "You think that's hot?" "Yeah," I say, blushing a bit. "Turns me on like crazy." "Huh..." he says, grinning with an intrigued, almost wicked expression. I notice his eyes flicker to my crotch for a split second. "When are you gonna start calling me Daddy, then?" I blush even more now, hitting his chest. "Fuck off." "I'm just teasing," he murmurs. He just holds onto me tighter with one arm, and I notice his hand shifting lower, and lower, until he's cupping my bulge with a firm grip. I let out a soft moan as he eases his full hand into my boxers, it disappearing behind the fabric up to his wrist. When his fingers find my cock (which is so easily responding to his touch), my hips twitch a bit. "Stop," I mutter. "Do you really want me to?" he murmurs in my ear, and I shake my head. Of course I don't want him to. I want him to keep going. I want him to hold onto my cock, to stroke it, to bring me to an orgasm that makes my head spin. But he has slightly other ideas. He hooks his thumb around the base of my growing hard-on and lets his fingers slip across my taint, closer to my hole -- and that makes me tense even more. I moan, leaning back against his arm as I inhale until he kisses me slowly. His hands, still cold and wet from the condensation on the ice cream container, slide deeper into my boxers, and I moan against his mouth in surprise. The cool sensation of his fingers finally making contact with my hole makes my eyes (which are already closed) roll back. "Spread your legs," Danny tell me, muttering softly against my lips, and my body automatically responds. I open my legs more, feeling him press insistently against my pucker, rubbing it in tender circles. My eyes lock on his as he teases me -- and I watch, transfixed, as he removes his hand from my boxers and sucks on two of his fingers to get them wet. Everything seems to move in slow motion right then, and my cock gives a particularly strong throb when his fingers slide from his lips with a little wet smack. Then, back into my underwear they go. I feel his damp fingers against me again, and this time, the middle one pushes into me. My breathing hitches as he holds onto me and slowly fingers me, gently rocking his digit back and forth. I just close my eyes for a moment, feeling my cock twitch every time he eases a little more into me, gradually getting deeper. Then, a thought occurs to me: "Wait," I say, grabbing his arm. "What about Jess?" "What about her?" he says, grinning. "What if she sees us?" "She won't." "But--" "She goes to bed early," he explains. "It's just you 'n me, baby." Then he nuzzles close to my face, his facial hair scratching my skin in the best way, finger still embedded in me. "Let me make you feel good," he whispers. I just nod. Of course I'll fucking let him. He can do whatever he wants to me. I can feel him smiling as he kisses my neck, leisurely starting to maneuver himself out from under me. As we shift so that I'm lying back on the couch, Danny gets between my legs and slowly starts to take my boxers off, taking his time as if I'm some precious gift. Slowly, inch by inch, he reveals my lower half, my incredibly hard cock swinging free and slapping with a thud against the shirt he let me borrow. He smirks at the sight of my hard-on as he pulls my boxers completely off, tossing them to the floor before spreading my legs and getting in between them. I let out a breathy moan as his hands hold my thighs apart while his mouth moves tenderly across my cock. He kisses it slowly, starting from the base and working his way to the tip before easing his way down to my balls. He makes quick work of them, because he has a particular goal in mind: rimming me. He holds my goods in a loose fist, lifting my balls out of the way so that he can lean in and dart his tongue out towards the most sensitive spot on my body. My back arches a bit and I quickly reach down to take over Danny's grip on my cock, slowly stroking myself as his tongue tries to work its magic. It's a tough position to really get into it, though, so Danny tugs my body closer to him so that he can push my legs back and lift my ass to him. With my hole practically pointing up at the ceiling, he dives in tongue-first. I feel my toes curling as I start swearing softly under my breath. I love when he eats me out. He's infatuated with my hole, smooth and pink and always hungry for his cock. Sometimes, when we're being lazy in bed all night and just watching a movie, I'll rest on my stomach and let him pull my underwear down and rim me to his heart's content. It's oddly relaxing -- but right now, it's getting me fired up. I feel my sphincter twitching every time his tongue glides across it, and when he dips his tongue in, I gasp so quickly that I almost choke on my spit. Soon, Danny goes back to fingering me -- though since I'm now loosened up with his tongue and saliva, he pushes two fingers into my hole with ease. I moan, stroking my cock even faster now, panting slightly. Back and forth, back and forth, in and out -- and the longer it goes on, the more submissive I feel. To top it off, he slowly slides those fingers out of me and brings them to my lips. My mouth opens automatically as I look up at his slight smirk, and I take his index and middle fingers in. He rubs those digits against my tongue slowly before I close my lips around them and suck. "Fuck," he whispers, rocking his fingers back and forth with the same gentle motions he used to finger me. My hands slide down as I look up at him, pawing around his groin, pleased to feel that familiar stiffness between his legs. I slip a hand into his sweatpants, my fingers finding their way around his cock and stroking him slowly while I suck on his fingers as if I'm sucking his dick. I *wish* I was sucking his dick right now -- and after a moment, after a few insistent tugs on his hard-on, he gets the message. He removes his fingers from my mouth and sits up on his knees as he quickly pushes his sweatpants down, his cock swinging free, as erect as he could possibly get. I quickly sit up and grab a hold of his manhood before he can move away, and with a quick shimmy forward, I wrap my lips around his cock and hear him sigh softly as soon as my mouth makes contact. He rests his hand on the top of my head, slowly sliding it down to the back as I bob back and forth, stroking him as I go, my tongue swirling around the head and dipping into his foreskin on every pull-back. I keep hearing him murmuring to me, and amidst the sounds of me slobbing on his cock, I hear "That's it, Jax" and "Fuck yeah, boy" -- which only encourages me more. I take him deeper, right into my throat, and Danny inhales sharply before groaning lowly. He keeps a firm grip on the back of my head whenever I swallow him entirely, and I hold as long as possible every time. Eventually, Danny takes the sides of my head in each of his hands and pulls his hips away from my mouth. He tilts my face towards his and kisses me deeply, swabbing my mouth with his tongue before pulling back and muttering "I wanna fuck you." I just smile. Good. I turn around and rest on my forearms like I'm doing a plank, but I keep my ass up high and my legs spread a bit. Immediately, I feel Danny's hands roaming my cheeks, squeezing them. If we were alone in his apartment, I'm sure he'd be slapping the hell out of them right now, but we're keeping things mostly quiet. He grips each cheek and pries them apart, spitting down right onto my hole and rubbing it in with his thumb in a teasing fashion. I push back against it, causing it to slip in, and he chuckles to himself. "Eager, eager," he says. Then, he shifts forward a bit, settling between my legs. I feel his cock nudging against my entrance, and I glance back at him with anticipation. He slaps his hard-on against my ass a couple times before pressing a hand down on my upper back, keeping me pinned as he starts pushing against my hole. But he won't go further than half the tip. "Push it in," I tell him. "Yeah?" he asks, and I can tell without even looking that he's grinning. "You think you can handle it?" "Yes," I say quickly. I've proven to him before that I can handle no lube as long as there's ample amounts of spit -- and he's got me dripping. "Hmm," he says, contemplating for a moment. Then: "Who's your daddy?" I don't know whether I should laugh or yell at him. "Fuck off," I mutter. "So you don't want me to fuck you?" he asks. I start to get frustrated, my hard-on throbbing with need against the couch. "Danny--" But him pushing hard into me cuts me short, and I gasp out, eyes rolling back. "Fucking--" I grunt, gripping the couch as my body instinctively tenses from the intrusion, even if it is welcomed. Danny just chuckles softly behind me, easing himself into me at a mildly-fast pace. Once he's buried inside of me, I feel his hot breath on the back of my neck before he kisses the skin there. Gently grinding and pushing into me, he murmurs "You asked for it." I reach back and grab his hair, keeping him close as I tilt my head and mutter "Harder, Daddy." He groans right in my ear, the timbre of his voice giving me chills as he sinks his cock into me as deep as he can. Then, as he sits up and starts rutting his hips, he grabs a fistful of the back of my shirt with his free hand, tugging like reins. I just lie under him, a soft smile on my face as I get dicked down by my boyfriend, my father of a boyfriend, whose kid is just down the hallway. God, I'm so hard right now. I feel Danny's hands sliding further down to my ass, gripping both cheeks in each hand and prying them apart. I arch the small of my back a little more to give him a slightly better view, and he rewards me with a playful slap to my skin -- not hard enough to be loud, but just enough to get the message across without using words. I bite my lip, holding back a little yelp, glancing back towards him. His eyes are focused on his work, honing in on the sight of his raw dick plugging me. I grin softly to myself. Take it, Danny. Fucking take me. Danny slides his hands up my sides under my shirt, stroking my skin tenderly as he gets up to my shoulders. Then, he grips them tightly, nudging my legs open more with his knees as he drives his hips into me over and over. I moan into my fist, gasping softly with each thrust. He switches between hard and soft, rough and tender, keeping me guessing and surprised every time he pushes his hips forward. It's driving me wild because I never know what to anticipate. Christ, I'm probably leaking like crazy on his damn couch. Then, Danny leans over and kisses my neck. "Would you be upset with me if I came inside you?" I blink, glancing at him. "Why the fuck would I be upset about that?" But I can see his grin. He's toying with me. He knows how much I've been loving him barebacking me, breeding me, making me hold his cum all the way home. He's already decided what to do with me. He's just letting me know. I clamp my hole down on his cock, milking it, giving him my response that way. He just moans and laughs, responding with harder thrusts as he holds me down. "Here it fuckin' comes, baby," he mutters, inhaling sharply through his nose and then giving me one more deep thrust before he starts to fill me up. I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation, the thrill of it, the intimacy -- especially when Danny collapses on my back, exhausted from his own orgasm. He pants heavily in my ear, humming musically and grinding into me for a while as he plants soft kisses on my neck. "Maybe I *do* love you," he murmurs with a teasing laugh, and I reach back and hit the side of his head, my face warmer than its been all night. He nips at my shoulder before telling me to turn over. When he lifts himself up, I roll over onto my back with a grunt, red in the face and hard between my legs. His hand goes straight for my cock as his lips find mine, and I kiss him slowly, deeply, sensually while he holds my cock in a tight fist and strokes it. His tongue really explores my mouth, like he can't get enough of the taste of me. Suddenly, he pulls away, and I almost whine before I realize what he's doing: he's moving down. I bite my lip, looking up at the ceiling as his face nears my groin, and when I feel his lips touch the head of my cock, I fucking lose it. Literally three seconds after he has me in his mouth and I'm cumming, clutching the couch and scrunching my eyes tight before I'm a panting mess. I hear Danny laugh even as he slowly bobs up and down, sucking me slowly and swallowing my load that's pumping into him with five or six good shots. When he pulls off, he smacks his lips a bit and looks at me. "That was fuckin' quick." "Shut up," I say, throwing my arm across my face, warm with both embarrassment and satisfaction. He reaches over to pull my arm away before kissing me deeply and slowly, tongues sliding against each other's, swapping spit and cum and flavors back and forth. It's during this tenderly erotic kiss that I'm thinking "I could stay on this stupid couch forever. I don't have to move. I don't *want* to move." Danny seems to be thinking along the same lines. "I wish you could stay over," he says when he's finished kissing me. I sigh heavily. "Me too," I say, but my mom needs her car in the morning, and I have school. "How long can you stay tonight?" he asks me. I bite my lip, trying not to smile. "A little longer," I say vaguely. He just chuckles, shifting me onto my side so he can get behind me and wrap both arms around me. "I'll take what I can get," he murmurs, and I swoon. I drive home with a smile on my face nearly the entire way, a smile caused by Danny and the load he planted inside of me. God, there's nothing like relaxing in the afterglow -- not just of sex, but of simply spending time with my boyfriend. It's always a bit sad to say goodbye or goodnight him, but he always leaves me with a tender kiss and such hope for the future that I can do little more than smile like I'm smiling right now: like a fucking goon. But that smile gets slapped right off my face as soon as I step inside my mom's house. "Where the fuck have you been?" I pause, stopping in the doorway in surprise. My mom looks furious, standing in the middle of the kitchen, red in the face and wagging a finger at me. She looks ready for bed -- but I guarantee she's been waiting up for me, too angry to sleep. She usually doesn't swear at me unless she's really mad. "What?" I ask, playing stupid. "You disappeared with the car *again*!" she says angrily. "*My* car." I blush, tensing up and trying to keep my voice level -- though that's difficult when I feel like I'm being attacked. "I was working!" I say, shutting the door behind me and bracing myself for an argument. She does that thing where she crosses her arms and taps her foot on the floor rapidly -- the classic stance of a pissed-off mom. "Your shift ended at five, did it not?" I grit my teeth, reminding myself that I'm in the wrong, here. But I'm doing everything I can to not yell back. "I got sidetracked." "For *five hours* after your shift ended?!" she yells, huffing. "Why the fuck are you yelling at me?" I blurt out, and she, somehow, immediately looks taller. "Don't you *dare* swear at me, young man!" she says threateningly, stepping closer to me. "Where were you?" "I was out," I say vaguely, my fingers tensing into fists. I can feel my nails digging into my palms. It hurts. "*Out*," she sneers before stepping closer and pressing a finger into my chest, whispering almost violently. "And decided to ignore all my calls?" "I left my phone here--" "Bullshit," she spits, seeing right through my lie. "There will be no more going *out*. You're a damn lucky little bastard for me to let you use my car at all." Then she steps back, sizing me up. "For work *only*. That's what we agreed upon." "I didn't go far--" "I don't give a shit," she interrupts, a fire in her eyes, looking like she wants to hit me. "I'm tired of you using *my* car for wherever the hell you're going--" "I was just--" "*AND*," she presses on, holding her hand up, "without telling me where you're going." "You have Markeith's car--" "That's not the point!" she screeches, groaning dramatically. "You can't keep using *my* car and *my* gas for *your* extracurricular activities." I stare at her hard, red in the face before reaching into my back pocket and pulling my wallet out. "What are you doing?" "Here," I say simply, taking out all the cash I have. It's around fifty bucks, and I rudely throw it at her. The bills hit her in the chest, some of them falling to her feet. "What--?" "Your precious gas money," I murmur, brushing past her and heading towards the stairs. Mom follows me up the stairs, newly enraged, shouting about how I'm disrespectful, ungrateful, rude, blah blah fuckin' blah. I just do my best to resist fighting back. There's no point. The last thing I need right now is to snap and call her a bitch or a cunt or something else I don't actually mean. I just keep my lips zipped tight, head straight for my bedroom, and slam and lock the door with a groan, taking deep fucking breaths. Nice 'n easy, Jax. Don't freak out. Don't get mad. No punching walls. No breaking furniture. You're fine. Zen. I can hear Mom yelling at me through the door and jiggling the doorknob, demanding entry, so to drown her out, I turn on my stereo and blast some old Taking Back Sunday from my record player. I'm glad this is the band that's playing. It's the first music group Danny and I bonded over the night we met. I throw myself onto my bed with a heavy sigh, staring up at the ceiling as the music completely takes over my sense of hearing, thinking fondly of that first night we spent together. Hard to believe that it was supposed to be a hookup, a quick in-and-out. But here I am now, having totally fallen for him. "Smitten," my dad would say. Dad. That reminds me... I sit up and pull my phone out of my pocket, checking the time. It's just before midnight, so he might still be awake. Would he come pick me up? That would save me a lot of grief. I could get out of the house and away from Mom's (albeit justified) rage, *and* I can maybe skip school tomorrow to push back on facing Pete. He hasn't reached out to me since Friday, which is a bit unlike him. But then again, we've never fought the way we did in Danny's driveway. I've never wailed on him like that before. I'm sure I'll have some explaining to do... eventually. I head over to my stereo and turn the volume down, listening in for my mom. She must have given up. I listened through two full songs before I got up, so she must have finally retired to bed for the night. Perfect. I pull up my dad's contact and give him a quick call, pressing the phone to my ear and chewing on my bottom lip. Thankfully, he's still up. "Hey, Chief!" Dad says, sounding a little surprised. "Hey Dad," I say, running my fingers through my hair before sitting back down on my bed. "Can you come pick me up?" "Now?" Dad asks skeptically. "Yeah." "Don't you have school in the morning?" "Not if you let me stay home." Dad pauses on the other line for a moment before asking "Is everything okay?" "Yeah," I say mildly, sighing. "Your ex-wife is driving me insane, and Pete and I got into a fight, and I missed the game tonight, and I'm just trying to avoid everyone right now." Unsurprisingly, Dad laughs at me. "Causing trouble, Chief?" "Can you pick me up or not?" "Eh... It's kind of late, buddy," Dad says, a softness to his voice. "But, you know, if you really need me to--" "Never mind," I say quickly. I hate feeling like an inconvenience, and the tone of his voice is heavily giving off that vibe. "You sure?" he asks. "Yeah, I'll be fine." I hear Dad shifting around on the other end. Sounds like he's in bed or something. "You wanna talk?" he asks, clearly sensing something in my voice. "Not really," I tell him, rolling over onto my side. It's a lie, of course. I'd love to talk to him. I'd love to tell him the truth. "You sure?" he asks gently. "I'm all ears, buddy." I let that offer hang in the air for a long time. At least a dozen seconds pass by before I take in a breath, wondering if I should open up this can of worms. Maybe it's the tone in his voice. He sounds like he's really listening right now, and I'm almost feeling vulnerable enough to open up a bit -- almost. I've come close a fair few times, but I'm too good at keeping things in. Maybe I was good before I met Danny. "Dad?" "Yeah?" "What would you do... if I was gay or something?" I ask, my heart pounding loudly. He responds almost immediately, as if I was just asking him about the upcoming weather. "I don't know," he says casually, clearly thinking this is a true hypothetical, "but you're not, right?" There's a pause, and I imagine him looking at the ceiling in confusion as he slowly starts to piece things together. "Are you?" he asks after a moment. There's a difference in his tone there, no longer casual -- but what it is exactly, I can't tell. I feel sick. "Maybe," I mutter. Then, after taking a breath, after deciding I should just spit it the fuck out, I give a stronger, surer answer: "Yes." Dad lets my answer hang in the air for just a second too long, and I almost feel like I'll start vomiting or shaking with anxiety or both until I hear him speak. "Ah, shit," he says softly. "What?" I ask, surprised. "Your mom thought something was going on. I just never thought..." He trails off a bit. I wonder if this would be easier in person. There's a certain sort of safety in keeping this conversation long-distance, but I can't read his expressions. Is he angry? Disappointed in me? Sad? He sounds like the latter, but that could just be because he's now realizing that was wrong about me this whole -- which can imply so many other negative feelings. With my mind assuming the worst, I instinctively want to apologize before he yells at me. "Sorry," I say. "What?" Dad asks. "No. No, that's not what I meant. I--" He cuts himself off before sighing. "Fuck, I don't know how to do this," he mutters to himself. "I shouldn't have said anything." "No, Jax, I'm glad you did," Dad says before taking a moment to clear his throat. "Listen..." He takes a breath, shifting around in his bed some more. "I know the divorce was hard on you--" "I don't wanna talk about that, Dad," I groan. "But--" "That's not what this is about. I don't care about the divorce. It's *better* that you guys split up." Dad pauses for a long while. "I don't know what to say, Ja--" "I'm fucking gay, Dad," I blurt out, getting annoyed by his attempt to come to some weird, eye-opening conclusion when there isn't one. "I don't need you to fucking talk around it. I just need you to accept it." "I *do* accept it, Jax," Dad says after a moment. "I accept *you*. And I love you, no matter what." Christ. Hit me where it matters, why don'tcha? I can feel a tear dripping down my cheek, and I'd be almost irritated by that if not for the swelling in my chest. Am I about to cry? I feel it building. "You do?" "Hell yes I do, buddy," Dad says earnestly. "Always." I shut my eyes, sucking in the tears. He's clearly just trying to make sure I'm okay, but my dad's no liar. I guess I wasn't expecting how good it'd feel to have someone I love accept me -- how fucking freeing it is. Then, I sense a tenderness in his voice. "I'm sorry if you felt like you couldn't tell me sooner." I sniffle a bit, holding back the waterworks as best I can. "It's not your fault," I tell him. "I've always been scared to tell anyone." Dad sighs softly, taking a moment to think about something. "Do you want me to come get you still?" I rub my finger under my nose, sniffling again. "No, it's okay," I say, inhaling shakily. "I'll be fine. I should probably face my problems anyway, right?" I add, half-joking. Then Dad lets out a hearty laugh, which instantly warms me in my chest and my gut. "That's my boy," he says, and even through the tears streaming down my face, I smile.