Date: Fri, 22 Dec 2023 02:00:00 -0700
From: John Henry <niftyjhenry1988@gmail.com>
Subject: Wish You Were My Dad Chapter 18 (Gay/Adult Youth)

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Chapter 18


"Mikey," I heard Dylan say as I got up and rushed to the bathroom.
Mom's voice was very distant. I barely made it to the toilet as
everything came up. The images I had long forgotten came flooding back.
You hear people say, "That just makes me sick," but it literally
doesn't; not in my case. I could hear everyone at the bathroom door. With
the rate they were calling out, you would've thought I was dying. I had
to flush the toilet a couple of times before I was ready to leave.


Mom and Dylan made several apologies, as I was still feeling too ill to
talk. Guilt over having seen the video without permission wasn't helping
my nerves one bit, and all I wanted to do was leave. Nana promised
leftovers, as we made our way to the car. Dylan sat in silence, as Mom
began grilling me. It wasn't anything harsh, but she wouldn't let up on
the questions. I definitely got the impression that Dylan wanted to
butt-in; instead, he just kept to himself.


Once we got back to the apartments, I helped Dylan up the stairs and to
his apartment. I wasn't allowed to stay, however, as Mom demanded that I
go straight to bed. I couldn't tell if she was concerned or embarrassed,
maybe it was both.


Dylan sent me several texts but I didn't read any of them. I couldn't
bring myself to. It was a struggle to get the images of Herman
practically raping Dylan out of my head. I felt sick, literally, and dry
heaved several times. Mom bought me a Sprite and some crackers.
Eventually, I fell asleep, and felt lucky that I didn't have any dreams
about it.


Since it was Christmas Day, Mom had it off and we were going to see
Grandma at the home. I still hadn't looked at Dylan's messages, but I
planned to stop by his apartment when we got back. I didn't want to say
something that would lead into a much longer conversation before I was
ready, and I didn't want a miscommunication due to bad context. It needed
to be said in person. He deserved at least that.


Grandma didn't look too good. They had switched some of her medications,
and she was having some bad reactions. Mom looked worried but we stayed
for a few hours, talking when Grandma felt she had the energy. Once
again, Grandma asked Mom to run an errand, so we could talk in private.


"How's everything with your partner?" She asked.


I blushed. "Fine," I was happy that someone else knew, but it still
wasn't easy to talk about it. "Dylan has been a prince."


"Glad to hear that, Sweetie. I take it your mother still doesn't know."


"Never," I said. "They're getting along better, but I don't want to
push either of them."


"Understandable." She closed her eyes for about a minute and then
asked, "How about you bring him here, so I can meet him?"


"Are you sure?"


"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't, Michael."


"Just give me his name and information, and I'll have him added to my
visiting list."


I told Grandma his full name and address, along with a phone number. Mom
came back shortly after, so the conversation had to change. All-in-all,
it was a good visit. Mom stopped off at the nurses station to chew them
out of the way Grandma's medications were reacting and demanded someone
take care of it. The nurse looked like she was ready for a fight, but
changed her mind when Mom gave her a look that plainly conveyed that she
had zero problems jumping over that counter to beat a bitch down. Mom may
have been an only child, but she could scrap with the best of them.


Mom didn't bring up dinner at Nana's place. I was hoping that she was
letting it go. I tried faking being in a better mood, and I was going to
say that it was just an upset stomach thing or whatever. After we got
back, I told you I wanted to check on Dylan and would be back. She didn't
say a word as I walked out the door.


I knocked and waited. A minute or two later, Dylan answered. "Hey," he
said. "I was hoping to see you." He stepped aside and let me pass.
"You could've let yourself in, you know. You have a key and we're
boyfriends, so I don't really see a reason--." He stopped and looked at
me. I was crying and shaking. I saw him and lost it. "Baby, come here,"
he called out and pulled me into him once more. "What's wrong?"


"I fucked up," I sobbed. "You're going to hate me and tell me to never
see you again."


"What? No! Mikey, never! What's going on?" Dylan led me to the couch
and pulled me back into his arms. "Baby, talk to me. What's going on
with you? You didn't respond to my messages and not to mention everything
that happened yesterday...Mikey, you promised to talk to me, remember?"


I took a few settling breaths. It was hard, but I managed to calm down
enough to talk. I told him everything that led to me finding and watching
the video. I couldn't look him in the face. I wouldn't have been able to
handle seeing the look of disappointment on his face. It was hard enough
confessing that I did, but seeing him hate me would've just ended every
ounce of will I had.


"Mikey," Dylan said, after I finished, "you should've told me about
that when it happened." His voice was serious but even. Clearly, there
was disappointment, but I didn't hear any anger.


"There's more," I said, and told him about my suspicions. I braced
myself for the yelling that was sure to come.


"What?" Dylan said...laughing. I looked over at him for the first time
and couldn't believe what was going on. Dylan was laughing and laughing
hard. He even had to wipe tears from his eyes. "Mikey, no...no, Baby,
you got it all wrong." He got up from the couch, still laughing.


I was confused but didn't know if I should be relieved that he wasn't
yelling at me or hurt that he didn't believe me.


Dylan returned with his laptop and put the drive in. After a few minutes
he queued up the video and began to play it. I started to protest,
feeling my lunch start to come up, but he assured me that it was fine.
Once again, Young Dylan was on his hands and knees as the man fucked the
hell out of him. I could hear Young Dylan crying into his pillow and the
grotesque words Herman said to him before leaving the screen.


"That's not my dad," Dylan said, emphatically.


"It sounds just like him," I protested.


"I guess he does, but Mikey, that isn't my dad." He turned off the
video and looked at me rather serious. "I'm going to tell you something
very few people know about me, okay? You got to promise to keep it to
yourself, though. I don't need my parents finding out."


"I promise," I replied.


"In college, I needed money, so I did gay porn on the side, since it
paid really well. The guy in the video is another guy hired to be in it.
Despite how old he looks on camera, he wasn't really that old. In fact,
he's closer to my age than I am to yours."


"Really?"


"Really," he replied, and pulled me back into his arms. "My dad would
never do anything like that, especially to me."


"Then why were you crying?" I asked.


"Um," Dylan replied, blushing, "well...um...we, as in you and I,
haven't done anything like what I did, but...when stuff like that
happens...it can hurt unless you do it right."


"So, he fucked you wrong, then?" I was so confused.


Dylan turned redder and said, "Yes and no. It was a long day, we had to
do several takes, and by the end, we ran out of lube. We thought I would
be fine after all we had already done, but apparently, we were wrong and
it hurt a lot. The line about me crying like a little girl was improved
by the guy, and the director kept it in."


"Oh," I think I was still confused but understood enough to get most of
it. "So you weren't raped?"


"No," Dylan said firmly. "It was all consenting and I got paid for
it."


"Oh no," I said, burying my face in his chest.


"What's wrong?" Dylan asked, very concerned.


"My boyfriend is whore," I replied and giggled.


Dylan faked outrage and tickled me till I needed to pee. We spent about
an hour talking and kissing. I felt a lot better about the whole
situation, and even decided to give Herman a chance.


***Coming Soon, Chapter 19***