Date: Fri, 21 Apr 2023 00:00:00 -0800 From: John Henry Subject: Wish You Were My Dad Chapter 2 (Gay/Adult Youth) DONATION: Nifty is a not-for-profit organization that heavily relies on our donations to keep the site free and accessible. Your donations pay for web hosting fees and other day-to-day activities for the wonderful staff of editors/publishers. You can donate on the website at http://donate.nifty.org/ Every little bit counts. DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction, and contains explicit, sexual content involving adults over the age of 21 and minors under the age of 13, If viewing this material is illegal where you live, OR you're a minor under the age of 18, please stop reading this. If you're not sure about this legatilty, please stop reading until you have looked into your own, local laws. Any likeness or similarity between persons, places, products or concepts are purely coincidental. If you would like to leave any positive feedback, please let me know. Thank you. Chapter 2 I woke up the next morning on the couch. I don't remember Dylan having gotten up, but I do remember there was a blanket over me and a pillow under my head; they smelled like him. I inhaled deeply and buried my face in the soft fabric, imagining it was his chest. I instantly got a hard-on and wanted to take care of it. "Morning, Sleepy," I heard a voice call from the kitchen. I sat up and saw Dylan, who was only in his underwear, making breakfast. I smiled and said, "Morning." "I hope I didn't wake you when I went to bed." "Nope," I replied, waiting for my boner to go away, so I could go pee. "I remember watching the movie then waking up just a second ago." "Yeah, you were pretty tired for sure. I hope you like bacon and eggs." "I love them." "Great, because that's pretty much all I got. Tiffany, for some reason, doesn't like cereal, even the sugary crap." I adjusted myself and went to the bathroom. Pissing with a boner sucks, especially when you're a teenager. I decided to see if sitting was better, and it was marginally. I looked around the bathroom and noticed how clean it was. I assumed men were slobs, since that was a common complaint by the single moms about their baby daddies. By the shower was a laundry hamper. I got up, still hard as hell, and checked it out. On the very top was a pair of Dylan's boxer briefs. I listened carefully, making sure I wouldn't be caught, as I took the underwear out of the basket. I held them up to my nose and inhaled. The musky smell of his genitals nearly made me cum. I had never had sex before and the only "man smell" I had experienced was my own. My face flushed and my cock started to drip. I looked around and instinctively, wiped the pre-cum up with the boxers. Feeling the fabric, where Dylan's own cock had been, was too much for my teen dick, and I shot my load all over his dark, blue briefs. I did my best to stifle myself, as the head of my cock was still pretty sensitive. Once I was cleaned up, I shoved the underwear down into the basket, making sure they were properly buried. I flushed the toilet and washed my hands before heading out to breakfast. Dylan had set everything up on the patio, as the day was already getting hot. It felt very romantic to me. "Everything alright?" Dylan asked, as I took my seat opposite him. "You were in there a long time." "Yeah, just had some stomach issues," I lied. "Nothing to worry about." Dylan's cooking was still amazing. The bacon was thick cut and wasn't the cheap kind I was used to. The eggs were done to perfection. "I hope you like it," Dylan said. "I love it. You should become a cook." "Nah, I wouldn't want to ruin my love of food; besides, my old man needs my help more than I need to be stuck in a kitchen." "Still, though. You're the best cook I know." "I'm sure your mom would love to hear that," Dylan remarked with a chuckle. "I'm sure she'd agree if she had these eggs." I don't know why I said it, but I asked, "Why don't you have a girlfriend?" Dylan took his time, taking a sip of his coffee, and finally replied, "That's pretty complicated, Mikey." "Sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." "You didn't upset me. Things in my life are complicated, and women usually make it worse. I have Tiffany and my job, so I don't feel a need to be in a relationship...at least not right now." "Oh," I said, as if I understood what he was talking about. "How about you? You got a girlfriend?" I nearly choked on my orange juice. "Me? No, no. I definitely don't have a girlfriend." "Why not? Not into girls or something?" I froze. I honestly didn't know how to respond. My interactions with males were usually those of my own age group, and such questions usually led to teasing and bullying. Dylan must have sensed my nervousness, as he said, "I'm sorry, Mikey. I didn't mean to pry. It's honestly none of my business." "I don't like girls," I said, stepping out of my comfort zone and taking a chance at trust. "Oh," Dylan said, "I see." My heart sank. I didn't know how Dylan was going to react, but I wasn't expecting to hear such disappointment in his voice. Unable to stand the awkwardness of the moment, I excused myself and went home. Although I had known I liked boys, I had never opened up to anyone about it before. I hoped Dylan would be one of those cool "dads" you see on Facebook or Snap that are warm and welcoming about their kid coming out to them. Instead, I got rejected. I tried to make myself feel better by saying, "At least he didn't yell, threaten or hit me," but with the pain and rejection I felt, Dylan might as well have. I tried crying myself to sleep. Mom was working another double, so I had the apartment to myself for the whole day. I had never experienced anything like it before. Even with the boyfriends of Mom's that I liked, when they left, I wasn't too upset by it; however, this situation with Dylan destroyed me. I tried to make myself eat, but I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of food. I was so drained, despite not doing anything. Memories of the night before kept flooding my brain, making the pain that much stronger. I covered my head with my pillow and started crying again, because I could smell the scent of teen-age boy, when I really wanted to smell Dylan again. I'm not sure how long it took, but I woke up sometime later to someone stroking my hair. I opened my eyes and saw Dylan sitting next to me; he looked sad. "Hey, Mikey," he whispered. "Hey," I replied. I wanted to sit up, but I didn't want Dylan to stop touching me. "I'm really sorry that I upset you earlier." I just looked at his brown eyes and saw the honesty in them. "So, you don't hate me?" I asked sheepishly. "What? No! Of course I don't hate you, and I'm sorry I made you think I could ever. I was just shocked, is all. I assumed you liked girls, and it never crossed my mind that you might like boys." "You're the first person I've told," I said, not really knowing why. "Oh my God," he replied, looking more guilty, "I'm super sorry, now. You deserved better of me, and I totally failed you." He stopped stroking my hair and pulled me into a hug. I forgot how muscular he was. I held him just as tightly as he held me. I inhaled his scent off of his neck, and was thankful for my clothing, since I got hard immediately. "Can you ever forgive me?" I wanted to be snarky, but Dylan sounded genuinely upset. "Of course, I forgive you. I'm sorry I acted like a kid." Dylan chuckled, still holding me tight, and said, "I hate to break it to you, but you're still a kid." "Jerk," I said, and hugged him tighter. Dylan was the first to let go, as I never wanted to. "Come on," he said, getting up, "I've made dinner." "Good. I'm starving." ***Coming Soon, Chapter 3***