Date: Tue, 14 Feb 2017 17:35:20 +0000 From: Bill Drake Subject: Naval Tradition 20 Naval Tradition Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com) NOTICE: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It is gay erotic fiction explicitly depicting sexual acts between male relatives. If that offends or disturbs you, read no further. If not, sit back, unzip, pull it out, and enjoy. This tale has taken me a while to spin out. Some of the details are off, but I plan to fix them with a retconned complete story when it's all done. Thanks to all the great work that the Nifty Archive does. Please consider supporting them with a donation. If you're enjoying this one, drop a line to billdrake@hotmail.com. Reader feedback is the best payment for writing. For more of my stories, see the Prolific Authors page here at Nifty archive, or check out my tumblr: drakestories.tumblr.com. Naval Tradition 20 Charlottesville, Fall 2003 Fall semester, sophomore year In September I had some bad news. Rounding the bases in an exhibition game, I got a meniscus tear. Hurt like the devil but worse than that it would sideline at least half of my sophomore season. Coach Powers, my strength coach, was optimistic, saying that given my age and health, I'd recover in five to six months, maybe by the start of spring season, maybe longer. But I had to do physical therapy, and who knew how it would affect my swing post recovery. I put my all into getting better, but, man, was I in a funk. I could barely study for classes, and it put a dent in my sex drive. I gave off a vibe that told others not to bug me. Even Holt stopped coming into my room Tuesday mornings before his English lit class. I told Dad and my brothers and they were all great. Especially Dad. We talked regularly about it, and one week during our Sunday call he told me about the time he almost dropped out of Naval Academy after a bad semester. "Just stick with it, Jimbo," he said. "I can't guarantee your ball career will end up as you want it, but I can guarantee you'll get through this rough patch." Dad's pep talk was what I needed, but in the long run I was still down in the dumps for a couple of months. I started putting on weight, even more than the guys on the team normally did in off season. I don't even think I noticed, it just hit me one day as I stepped out of the shower and looked in the mirror, where I saw a beefy jock build with a sturdy beer belly sticking out a few inches. Somehow that made me more depressed. At least I had my porn collection. Maybe I was getting a little too familiar with it. But it was a nice way of escape. I could fire up that special Daddies folder where I kept my favorites. The new favorite pic I had, with a strong 40-something man who looked kind of like Dad and he was fucking some 20-something son type from behind on the kitchen counter, a gruff determined look on his face as he powered a large cock into the butch muscular bottom. I shot a hell of a lot of loads to that one. ** It was a November afternoon and Charlie and I were watching football one Sunday afternoon. "You doing OK Jim?" Holt said as he looked up from the TV and I plopped down on the couch next to him, bringing back a beer for both of us. "Yeah, I am," I said. "Been a rough couple of weeks, though." "Don't take this the wrong way, McGrath, but you're one serious dude. You need to lighten up from time to time." He meant it in the best way but it still raised my defenses. "Yeah? How exactly am I supposed to do that?" Charlie just shook his head like I was an idiot and shimmied his big beefy body in front of me, tugging at my shorts. I wasn't erect or even thinking about being erect, but yeah, a Bulldozer special sounded pretty good about then. "It's nice to take you in my mouth soft for a change," Charlie said and started licking and sucking on my prick, which gradually expanded before popping suddenly into a full hardon inside his mouth. "Nice, buddy," I encouraged, placing my hands on his shoulders as he began going down on me in earnest, working my cock with his talented mouth. If any dude ended up with Holt as a full-time guy, he'd be one lucky man. I guess I didn't realize how long I'd put off sexual release or how quick his blowjob would get me to the finish line. "Oh, man, oh fuck, I'm coming Holt, oh fuck. Shit! Ungh! Ungh!" And with that I spurted a two-week wad right down his throat - a record for me - until Charlie backed up to catch the rest of my ejaculation in his mouth. Then Holt got up, an erection showing in his shorts, but he usually liked to save it for his dates later on. He let out a deep breath of satisfaction and sat back next to me. "Better, McGrath?" "Oh yeah," I said, pulling my shorts back up. Even after all this time, I couldn't believe how talented a cocksucker my roommate was. "Thanks. You're the best, Holt." He gave me a wry smile. And we went back to watching an afternoon of football. ** In November, Dad called me up to see if I wanted to go to the Army-Navy game. He'd pick me up at school in lieu of my coming down for Thanksgiving. It was my brother Matt's senior year, and it would be great to see him in his element, with his Academy friends. Dad had taken us to the game a couple of times when we were younger, but in more recent years, he'd either skipped it or gone on his own, to meet up with Jack and his Navy buddies. It felt great to be included again in this ritual that had assumed a mythical stature for me growing up. And it was great being back in Philadelphia for it. It was cold as balls that weekend, but there was a real incredible energy in the city, with midshipmen and cadets wandering around, and their families, too, and current and ex-military men all returning for the friendly rivalry. We met up with Matt and his friend Jason for dinner after the game. They were both practically giddy with excitement at another Navy win. I don't know how else to put this, but my brother's real cute, with a shorter stature and slim, taut build, he almost didn't look like a McGrath, except in the face, where we had a strong resemblance, he even had Dad's twinkling blue eyes. Jason was exactly the same height and build and they made a really cute couple. I'm not sure anything was going on between them, but I wouldn't be surprised. You just get a vibe sometimes. The midshipmen went off to do their thing, and Dad and I wandered around the streets, soaking up the vibe. It kind of bummed me not to be able to go into one of the bars. Not that I absolutely needed a beer, and at 20, I felt left out. Dad must have noticed, because he finally said, "Slugger, whaddya say we get a six pack and head back to the room?" It was a welcome decision, in part because the cold was starting to get to me, and my ears felt half numb and my nose damp with cold. When we got back to our room, I warmed up as Dad pulled out some plastic cups. "To your first Army-Navy game as an adult, Slugger," Dad toasted. "Thanks for bringing me Dad. It's awesome." He smiled, pleased that I was into the event as much as I was. I continued, thoughtfully, "I sometime think I should have gone into the Navy. Like you and Matt." "The Navy's a special thing, but it's not for everyone," Dad said, eyeing me in his serious way. "You saying it's not for me." "No, Jim, I'm not saying that. I just never wanted you boys to feel like I expected you to follow in my footsteps. I'm thrilled Matty's going to serve, but I'm proud as hell of all you guys. You know that." "Yes, sir. I do. Honest. Only, I always thought I would, Dad, you know, growing up. Until end of high school, when I felt like I had to give baseball a chance." "You gotta follow your path, Jimbo, whatever that is." He poured more beer into my cup, then his. "If the baseball thing doesn't work out, or you change your mind, there's always OCS, if you want to become an officer." I mulled it over. The idea seemed appealing, but I worried I was doing this just for Dad's approval. "In the meantime," he said, "I know you're gonna go to the pros, and I'm gonna be the proudest fucking major league player's father there is." Dad cursed a lot more, like a stereotypical sailor, when he was buzzed from drink. "What if that doesn't happen, Dad?" I asked the question that had been on my mind, voicing my insecurity. "What if I don't cut it?" "Then you gave it your goddamnd best, like a McGrath does." He leaned forward and poked my chest. "I swear I don't get mad at you, Jim, hardly ever, but if you ever get afraid to chase what you want...." He didn't finish his thought, I think because he caught himself in giving me a lecture, which he'd tried to refrain from. But I missed this. Missed Dad's serious side, his clear love for me, for all of us McGraths. I even missed his lectures. This one made me smile, actually, and I felt like I could speak up, aloud. "I won't be afraid, Dad. Don't worry." "Attaboy," Dad grinned, his affable nature showing through. "You know, I practically eat, breathe and sleep baseball. Ever since starting at UVA. It's all I do." "Is this your way of telling me your grades are gonna be lousy this time?" he asked in mock sternness. I laughed. "No sir. Been working on those too. I guess if I end up going into the Navy I'll need top-notch grades." "You will," Dad nodded. "I wish I had your smarts. Matt and John's too," I said. "I think I'm more like Paul." Dad laughed. "Paul's heart wasn't in school, never was. You can be too hard on yourself, Jimbo. I sometimes think it comes with being the youngest, trying to live up to expectations." I blushed now. Sometimes I felt real grown up talking to Dad like this, man to man, and then the next second I could feel like a little kid again. We talked for a while, and as Dad popped up our third beers, he spilled some beans. "Son, I have some news on my end," He started. "Alli and I have... well, we've broken things off." I could see some pain in his eyes, and I had the feeling Alli had done a good bit of the dumping. You'd think the jealous side of me would be elated, but I felt genuinely sad. "Sorry to hear, Dad," I said. "You OK?" It was the sort of thing he'd ask me, and I wasn't sure if was an appropriate thing to say to your father but after the way we'd grown close over the years, I was really concerned for him. "I'll be OK Slugger. We were just looking for different things. I'm not looking to remarry, at least not in a hurry." He took a sip, and I know he was feeling a good buzz. I was, too. "You know, I've been real impressed with you through all this. Me getting out there and dating again. You've been real mature about it, more than most sons would be. I appreciate it, Jimbo." He was speaking plain and direct now, but I sensed the subtext, too. Dad was happy our sexual indiscretions last fall and spring hadn't led me to be jealous. "Dad, I'd be a total asshole to be anything but supportive for you. You're always there for me, I'm always gonna be there for you, sir." I clinked my plastic cup against his. Dad's eyes were misty but he didn't have more to say. We just drank our beers in silence, almost not needing words. It was just great to have this time with him. Finally, he polished his off. "It's getting late, Jim, what do you say we call it a night?" I agreed and we each brushed our teeth and got ready for bed. I crawled into one of the double beds as he used the bathroom. When he stepped out, Dad wore only a pair of Navy jersey PT shorts, his furry chest on full magnificent display, and I had to turn the other way not to look at him. At it was, my cock was firming up, hard, at the thought of Dad sleeping in the same room as me. "Good night, Dad," I said, acting like I was too sleepy to stay awake a minute longer. "'Night son," he said, and turned out the light. ** I could tell Dad was still kind of glum when I got home over break, but he was also glad to have all of us, his four boys, home for the holidays, though John and his family didn't come until after Christmas. It did my mood a lot of good, too. I was still worried about my injury and wondering if my swing would recover after it. But being around family reminded me that there are more important things than baseball, even if sport was my main passion. My oldest brother John seemed to be particularly attentive to me, and he asked if I wanted to hang out one day. Paul and Jess flew back to the Midwest, and Matt was hanging out with friends. It was a very warm day for late December and he suggested we go for a run along the beach. I was eager to get out and run off some of the food I'd eaten over the holidays. "Sure," I said. "I've already gained fifteen pounds since my injury and I'm worried being home has added another five." Sure enough, I was getting my freshman fifteen a year late, which was another reason I was in a funk. "Ha," John said. "I didn't know baseball players had to worry about their weight." Of all the McGrath men, John and Matt had the most naturally slender build, whereas me, Dad and Paul have bulkier builds naturally. Now 31, John had kept in shape and was a devoted runner. I was glad he was around to motivate me, now that my knee was good enough for it. "Not sure how many dudes want to go for a pudgy college kid," I replied. OK, maybe I was wallowing in self-pity lately. John called me out on it. "Cut the crap, Jimbo. I have enough gay friends to know they go for jocks, no matter what the shape or size. Now, am I getting your lazy ass of this couch or not?" It was funny, my oldest brother could be bossy, just like Dad. "Sir yes sir!" I replied mockingly, glad to have this dynamic back in my life. We had a good run, though I had to take it easy with a three-miler and let John go for his longer distance. I stretched out on the bench, enjoying the 65 degree sunny day and the brisk breeze from the water. I thought back to the time I'd chatted up Kevin Marshall at this very spot. How I had the balls to do that as a high school kid, I'll never know. It was weird how I missed my hometown. I felt cooped up growing up here, but looking back, I'd found it easier to find men to have sex with here, back before I was nervous about my ball career. I had to wonder if it was worth it. Or maybe I just needed to find my confidence again. John rejoined me, smiling and pumped from endorphins. "Sorry to make you wait." "No problem, brother. Beautiful day." "I'll say." He stretched as I sat in the bench. Soon he sat next to me. "Are you doing OK, Slugger?" he asked as we sat and watched the ocean. "What do you mean?" I asked. "The injury. School. Dating life. Anything. Everything. We don't get the chance to talk much." This was a new side to my brother, all right. But I felt almost like a little kid with my big bro looking out for me. "It's been a tough semester. I've been kind of depressed actually." He frowned and gave my head a playful ruffle. "Wanna talk about it?" I nodded, and out came a litany of my insecurities. About playing baseball, about not knowing what else I wanted to do with my life, about not being as smart or good at school as him or Dad, about negotiating the closet, about not having a boyfriend or even a real date. Of course I left out the bit about my fucked up sexual attraction to Dad and my incestuous experiences. But I talked about the rest. John listened and prompted me here and there. But mostly listened. Finally, he said. "I don't have any wisdom for you, Jim, but sometimes it's good to get this stuff off your chest. You know, not keep it all bottled up. That's the best part of marriage, actually. For all the ups and downs, I can always talk to Kate and she can talk to me. I hope you find someone like that for you." I don't think I fully realized until then how much I wanted it. Wanted a boyfriend. Sex was good and to be honest I could use some more of that, too. But I wanted a special man, whatever form that took. I'd been repressing it, cause I had to. My eyes misted up a little but I fought it back. Fortunately, John knew what to say. "I got a sixth sense about some things. You're gonna get over your injury OK," he said. "And you're gonna find someone to share your life, Jim. Maybe not now, maybe not soon, but wait. You'll find him. Enjoy being a college kid in the meantime." "I thought you didn't have any advice," I joked. "Smart ass." He punched me playfully in the shoulder. "Whaddya say we pick up a six pack and enjoy the afternoon on the deck?" "Sounds pretty awesome." ** It was a few days before I had to head back to school. John had gone back home, now, and Matt had already taken off to Annapolis. Dad and I enjoyed our evening chats, but it was just that. Chatting. I knew things would have to be that way between him and me. No sex, back to our previous father-son relationship. It didn't keep me from sneaking a look at his body when I could or from having strong fantasies pop into my head. If anything my cums were more intense masturbating in my room, knowing Dad was a few doors down. But I did my best to act normal around my father and he acted normal around me. My dick felt neglected though. I wanted to get laid. Bad. I had a good idea of where to go. I felt bad for my idea. For sneaking over to Rich's when I knew he wouldn't be home. For lying to my father that I'd gone over to see Rich and would probably spend the night there. Mr. Bryant seemed surprised when he answered the door. "Jim," he said. I stood anxious now, my hands in my jeans pocket. I'd put on a plaid button down and knew I looked well-groomed. I'd also sprayed on some of Dad's cologne. "Hi Mr. B." He swallowed nervously. "Um, Rich isn't here. He's still in Florida at his mother's." I nodded. Here goes. "Yeah, Mr. B, I know. I came here to see you, actually. I, um, wanted to ask you on a date." He smiled, a little amused. "You serious, Jim?" I wanted to melt in the spot where I was standing. But part of me wanted to stand my ground. "Yes, sir. See, I've never been on a date before. And I know you'd never be serious with a young guy like me, but I would be honored if you'd go on one date with me. My first date." "Wow," Mr. Bryant answered. God, he was attractive, his silver hair was starting to come in just a little more over the last year, setting off his handsome features. "Um, well come in first." "Yes, sir," I said, stepping into the foyer. I stood nervously as the man shut the door and came round. Grinning, he stepped up to me, putting his hands on my arms as he appraised me. "You're looking great, Jim," he said, "as always." Then he stepped up and kissed me. Soft, slow but tongue-forward kiss. You can believe I kissed him back, as romantic as I knew how. I felt out of my depths here. I'd learned how to be a fully sexual man, even as other guys my age were lucky to get to second base with a girl, and yet I never had the chance to develop my romantic side. Mr. B didn't seem to mind, or maybe he was just guiding me, leading the way in how to do it right. "How was that Jim?" he asked as he pulled back. "Perfect," I said. His cheeks flushed red. "You know, I'm a real lousy Dad to be going on a date with my son's friend. But if you want to..." "Oh, I want to Mr. B," I said. This time leaning in to take initiative with the kiss. God, I could do this all night. We started getting into it. Too into it, probably, cause I got the sense we wanted sex, and I felt my hard dick rubbing against his through our clothes. "Easy there, Cowboy," Mr. B said. "We got all night." "Yessir," I smiled, happy to be chastened by this older, more experienced man. "What did you have in mind for your date?" I smiled. "If you've not had dinner, sir, I could take you out. Or to a movie. You know, like a normal couple." "Let's start with dinner and see where that goes," he gave my chin a little nudge. "Give me ten minutes to get ready?" He already looked like a million bucks but I nodded yes. He went off while I sat in his living room, giddy and excited. This was weird, all right, but I didn't care. My first date, at 20. Even if Mr. B was humoring me, this was real enough for me. When he came back I whistled. He'd combed his hair and put on a new shirt and a sports coat. "Ready?" he asked. "Yes, sir. God, Mr. B you look so handsome. Perfect." He was gonna get sick of me saying that word but it fit. We walked out the door and to my car. "I should have you over more, Jim," he said as he entered the passenger side of the car. "You do an old man's ego good." "How old are you, Mr. B? If you don't mind my asking." "46." He seemed embarrassed to admit it. "I feel honored sir." I said. "I can't imagine a hotter guy to have my first date with." That made him smile. Yeah, maybe he was humoring me. But I couldn't help but lavish attention on him. I'd thought of him as a naughty fling last year, but now I interacted on a different register. Conversation. Asking him about himself. His work, his life. We had a booth at a decent mid-price Italian restaurant in town. I'm sure we looked like father and son, and the idea gave me a perverse thrill. Particularly when I felt Mr. B kick off his loafer and run his toes along my ankle. "You got some major game, Jim McGrath," he finally said with a twinkle in his eye. I couldn't help but get a cocky smile on my face, which made him laugh. "You're not looking for anything serious are you Mr. B?" I finally brought up the obvious. "Not with a guy." "No, Jim, I'm not. I just got out of a messy divorce. And you're my son's friend. Sorry." "Don't be, sir." I now nudges his calf with my shoe. "I'm still having the time of my life. Just having dinner with you. Really." He didn't know what to say after that, so I changed the subject and soon we were making small talk. I didn't know what to expect when I drove him home but as I pulled up, Mr. B looked at me. "Thanks for a terrific evening Jim. I mean it." He leaned forward and we were kissing, somehow even more softly than before. It went on beyond a peck, it was a soulful ten minute kiss. He was breathing hard when we broke, and I'm sure I was, too. "Want to come in?" he asked. "Oh yeah," I said, meeting him in another kiss before turning off the car. "No offense, Jim," he said as he ushered me inside, "But I need my head examined. Making out with my son's best friend." There was just a low desk lamp on and he didn't bother turning on more lights. If his words expressed regret his body didn't as he stepped up to me, touching my chest and feeling my muscle beneath my shirt. "So strong," he growled, "so young. Are you 20... like Rich is?" "Yes sir." Romantic Mr. Bryant was gone and replaced by Lusty Mr. Bryant. His mouth crashed hard against mine and his fingers started undoing my shirt buttons and soon I felt his fingers against my warm bare chest. I had the sense he got off on the fact I was his son's age. I took a chance. "You want to go to Rich's room?" He looked at me hungrily. "You naughty boy." Then: "Let's do it." Ed stopped in his bedroom and when he came out he tossed me a tube of lubricant. "If I recall, you're a pretty talented top." The gleam in his eye gave me a shiver. "I was inspired to do the job right." I followed Mr. Bryant down the hall and each step made me a co-conspirator in a nasty transgression. He'd removed his sport coat and I could see the broad powerful back a man his age often has. "Think you'll be inspired again tonight, Jim?" he asked as he opened the door to Rich's room and turned on the light. This wasn't Rich's main room or the one he grew up in, so it wasn't fully furnished or decorated. But he had a few of his posters on the wall and some of his stuff. It definitely felt like my buddy in there My hands latched on his shoulders and gave them a strong squeeze. "You bet. I've been turned on all night, being with you." Ed kicked off his loafers and grinned like a naughty teenager. Then he stripped off his shirt and pants while I watched and more slowly undid my belt and jeans. I was hard as nails and Mr. B smiled when he saw my fat tube of meat sticking up in my briefs and forming a large wet spot of precum. "I can tell," he said. I undid the final buttons of my shirt and peeled it off. All of a sudden I felt self conscious about my body. "I've put on a few pounds this year, sir. I hope you don't mind." He shook his head. "Jim, you're the hottest guy I've ever had sex with. You still are." I felt like a tiger now, and I practically leapt onto Rich's bed to join him, tugging my briefs down. We kissed and rubbed against one another. Unlike before we had the time and the privacy to connect at our own pace. We swapped blow jobs and I rimmed Ed and he returned the favor. Finally I lay him down on his back and started applying lube to his hole with my fingers, teasing his pucker and enjoying the process of wetting him up. "Damn, you are talented," he observed. "Better than I remember even." "You like?" I asked. He nodded in affirmation. "More," he said as I had two finger inside him. "Push them in deeper." Then, getting a jokey smile on his handsome face, he said, "Just so you know, guys don't always put out on the first date." I laughed and he did, too. "Then again, I can't imagine anyone resisting you, Jim. You're a hot kid." I leaned forward and kissed him, grateful and excited. I wanted in him SO bad but also wanted to take my time loosening his hole in preparation. As I added a third finger and more lube he looked into my eyes and asked me, "You have a thing for daddies, Jim? Older men?" Without missing a beat, I answer. "Yeah Mr. B. A lot." I wondered if I should go further, but I had a good hunch I could. "I have a thing for my own dad, even. I'd love to be able to do this to him." Instead of being freaked out, Ed sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes as his hard cock thwapped excitedly off his stomach. I pressed further. "You ever think about Rich doing this to you?" He didn't answer in words but instead leaned up and kissed me hard and heavy. I broke off, horny and excited beyond belief. "Let me go turn off the light, Mr. B. That way you can imagine it's Rich when I'm doing you." He gripped my forearm to stop me. "Jim... I don't think that would be right." "Come on, sir. I know you want to. Trust me. You made me feel like a new man tonight, let me do this for you." He didn't agree, but he let go of my arm and I got up off the bed and found the light switch. It wasn't pitch black and some light filtered in from the hallway. But it was dark, and when I reconnected with Ed's body it felt electric between us. I pushed my dick in. The man's body relaxed and accepted. "Please," he moaned. "Fuck me." I did, entering full into him now. Deeper. He didn't complain about my girth and it didn't seem to put him off. Instead, he rested his legs on my shoulder and I pushed all the way inside his hot tightness. "Oh God, Dad," I moaned, entered into the roleplay character of Rich. Or maybe letting Ed be my own father. Either way, I felt so turned on my heart was pounding in my chest and I know my prick twitched like mad inside Mr. B's hole. "Oh son," Ed muttered, almost whimpered. "Fuck your daddy, son." That did it. I pulled out and unceremoniously pushed right in again. Once more. And harder. "Dad I've wanted this for so long," I said aloud at a nice regular volume. "To be inside you. To fuck you. To fuck my daddy." I hadn't had a real roleplay session like this since that summer with Glen Evans. This was every bit as hot and more. If anything the circumstances made it feel ten times realer. I could hear it Ed's voice, too. "I wanted this too. You're so big, boy, big and hard to fuck your daddy. My boy all grown up, making me gonna cum soon." "Come on, sir. Shoot your load, Dad. Shoot while I cum inside you. Deep inside Daddy." "Ugh! I'm cumming, Richie, I'm uhh... ARGH!" "Dad," I hissed as my orgasm timed nearly split second to his. As we unloaded our mouths met, hot hungry and open for each other to communicate the passion we had. I thought Mr. B would feel all guilty afterward and maybe he did deep down but as we rested up our hands intertwined and soon he pulled me up to lead me to the shower. We kissed some more, like before, soft and romantic. "Thanks for showing me that, Jim," he said. "I've been scared of the fantasies I've had." "I have them, too, Mr. B, for my Dad." I said. "Like crazy. Sometimes I don't know what to do about them. Maybe it's better to let them out like this." "Maybe you're right." ** That date with Mr. B kept me on cloud nine for a good three weeks when I got back to campus. I was practically whistling constantly, in a good mood. I think it bugged Holt. "Dude, if you're like this after one date, I'd hate to see you when you start going steady." Though Charlie just liked to tease me. It helped that I was getting encouraging words from my coaches and the physical therapist. I would need to sit the first half of the season out to be safe, but I was ready for batting practice, to get back into form. Maybe my new stride was behind my and Eric Foster starting our thing up again. Just once a week at most, not like before. Our more laid-back approach worked better this time, and Foster felt he could go on dates and still come over to my place on Monday night for a hard plowing. ** I was getting back into my workouts, building muscle and finally, slowly, starting to burn off my extra fat. Coach Powers even noticed one Friday evening as I was in our gym till close. "Looking good, McGrath," he said as he put on another twenty pounds for me to press. "Let's see if we can build you up to more weight." It was a grueling workout but I felt great after it. Exhausted but great. A protein shake, a shower, and a dinner later, I was unwinding in my room. My former roommate Tim called and asked me if I wanted to go to a party, but I was beat. I'd not slept enough the night before, and it was catching up with me. I was about to doze off when the phone rang. Dad. "Heya Slugger. Got a moment?" Dad and I usually talked on Sunday, but it was good to hear his voice. "Sure. Just having a quiet night in, actually." I thought he was gonna hound me about not having enough of a social life, but instead he quipped, "At least I don't have to worry about hearing from the student life dean, do I?" I groaned in a mock kind of way. We chatted a bit, and I updated Dad about my injury and recovery. "Think you're going to be on the roster come Spring?" Season opener was coming up in a week, and I definitely wouldn't be ready. I told Dad as much. "You bummed out, Jimbo?" "A little. Coach says I just gotta be patient. Not rush things. I'm almost recovered now." "Good to hear, son," Dad said. Then, after a silent pause on the phone, he added. "Listen, I have a reason for calling. I'm wondering if this means your spring break has freed up." "I'll have to check with Coach, but I imagine yeah. I don't have any plans, though." "What do you think of spending it with your old man?" I could tell the nervousness but also the hopefulness in his voice. "Serious?" I didn't say it in a dismissive way, I was genuinely surprised. "If you want. I know it won't be as much a party as if you went with your buddies. But I got enough miles to get us to Mexico and a hotel for five nights. You could go out and have you own fun whenever you wanted, but it's been a while since we've hung out, just you and me, Slugger." He wasn't accusatory in his tone, just matter of fact. "Um, yeah, I guess. Yeah, that's be awesome, Dad." I could almost hear him smile over the line. "Well, check with your Coach to make sure it's OK, and I'll make the arrangements. It'll be good to let loose a little. I've been working too hard lately." We talked a little more, but when I hung up, I realized one question hung over us unanswered, unspoken. Were we going to fool around, Dad and me? Or just hang out as normal father and son?