Date: Thu, 18 Jun 2020 20:38:20 -0400
From: a4f tales <a4ftales@gmail.com>
Subject: Daddy Night, Part One

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*****

Author's Note: This is Part One of a three-part Father's Day special, and
while there's not so much sex in this one, there's plenty of vibes that
will make all the sex that's coming - and there's gonna be a *lot* - even
better. So stick with me, fellas. You trust me, right? Good. Let's go...

*****

"Let's go get a drink."

As soon as his father said it, Ian knew he should shut the whole thing down
right there and then. Against all odds, they'd had a pretty good day of it
at Pride. He'd been thinking about attending the festivities, this being
his first Pride in a new town. His first Pride ever, in fact. But when his
father had announced he was coming to town for the weekend, Ian had shelved
the idea altogether, and figured that was that until next year. Until his
Dad happened to see a flyer for it while they were out for dinner after his
arrival Friday night, turned to him with that charming grin of his, and
said, "Well hell, buddy, looks like there's a party goin' on! What do you
say we go check it out?"

"Uh, I dunno Dad, you're only in town a few days, maybe we can hit a
ballgame or something," Ian said warily, searching his brain for the most
likely Father's Day weekend activity he could think of, in a city he was
still getting to know.

"Hell with that," Dan said, waving a slightly tipsy hand. "Let's face it,
baseball is boring, and the team here sucks ass, buddy." He turned to Ian
with that mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Well, I guess more than a few people at Pride suck ass too," he said,
cocking an eyebrow for humorous effect, and Ian had always enjoyed the
jocular, easy kind of relationship he had with his father, but right then,
he wished there was a manhole or something close by that he could crawl
into.

"C'mon, it'll be fun, or interesting at the very least," his Dad said,
slinging one big arm around Ian's shoulders as they walked. "You're new in
town, and these are your people. And I'm a proud Dad of a gay son. I want
to show my support, for you and all your brothers and sisters."

Ian felt a little wave of something inside him hearing that -- gratitude,
maybe, and in spite of how awkward this subject was making him feel, a
definite warm buzz of love for his Dad, too. The big guy had taken his
coming out a few years back with ease and not just acceptance, but warmth,
a big embrace both literal and figurative. He hadn't really expected that
-- Dan Cameron was an ex-Navy man and former football star, all roguish
charm and long-striding manly-man confidence, a few rough edges still
beneath his custom-fit suits. But he'd always been Ian's biggest
cheerleader, through school and sports and debate team, and now in this
too.

"Besides, it's Father's Day weekend," Dan said. "That means I get to pick
what we do, right?"

"I guess..." Ian said, knowing there was nothing he could do about it
now. The Bad Idea Train had already left the station, and he was just along
for the ride.

"Then it's settled," Dan said with a decisive nod, giving him a friendly
squeeze. "The Cameron men are goin' to Pride!"

In spite of his misgivings -- and they were many, and he'd laid awake that
night thinking about them all -- they'd had a good time at Pride. It was a
first for both of them, and Dan had acted like the good kind of tourist,
engaged and respectful and open-minded. He'd taken even the crazier sights
in his stride -- the roving pack of athletic dudes in pup masks and
harnesses, the guy wearing a Babadook costume on his top half, and a
studded leather jock below that, among other things -- and the two of them
had frequently found themselves laughing together at the things they'd
seen. Even the slightly mortifying parts, like all the guys openly scoping
out Dan's handsome, athletic middle-aged form, didn't bother Ian as much as
he'd feared they might. For Dan's part, he'd seemed pretty pleased by that,
too.

"Hey, what's that stereotype about you guys having good taste?" he said
with a comically proud tilt of his chin. "And here I thought you were the
exception to the rule," he added, giving Ian's ribs a playful dig with his
elbow, grinning that charming grin beneath the rolled brim of his favorite
old ballcap.

"Ah shut up, old man," Ian shot back playfully, making Dan roar with
laughter and sling his arm round his neck again.

"That's my boy," he said with genuine pride, making it a fine damn day for
Ian indeed. "C'mon, let's get another beer, smartass."

Sure, it was a pretty unusual way for a father and son to spend quality
bonding time, but like Dan himself said, it was a different world from when
he was growing up, and in many ways, a much better one. And despite his
initial fears, Ian found himself glad they were experiencing it together,
and glad to have a man like Dan for his Dad. Feeling a genuine sense of
pride, in their bond and himself, which he supposed was what Pride was all
about.

They stayed out longer than Ian expected, and after grabbing some dinner at
a food truck -- the entire time, Ian grinning at the crazy scenario of him
and his father eating tacos beside a gaggle of drag queens and a bunch of
leather dudes, including a guy wearing a puppy-tail butt plug, to which Dan
had said matter-of-factly, "Now that's some muscle control, right there,"
making Ian nearly choke on his al pastor -- they found themselves at a
loose end. Evening was fast falling, and Ian supposed he'd probably head
back to his little apartment, and Dan to his hotel. But he didn't really
feel like wrapping up the day yet, and clearly neither did Dan.

"Well, clearly this has got to be the place," Dan said, as they stood
outside the End Zone, lifting his hands up towards the banner hanging out
front, like it was a fait accompli. DADDY NIGHT! it said, and Ian felt his
heart sink, at the same time as his guts started to twist up. It reminded
him of being younger, that fear of getting busted doing something you
really loved, and didn't want anyone else to know you loved it as much as
you did.

"Yeah, Dad, no, maybe we should..." he said, trying to keep the tension out
of his voice, but Dan just waved him off amiably.

"C'mon, it'll be fun," he said, slinging his big arm round Ian's shoulders
companionably. "We've had fun today, right? And I know you didn't think we
would, you can't bullshit me, kiddo."

Ian knew he wasn't going to win this one, especially when Dan gave him a
jocular squeeze.

"Just think of it as another adventure," he said. "You should always have
adventures when you're new in town."

His voice dropped a little lower, more confidential, just audible over the
street sounds.

"And yes, I know what `Daddies' means, at least here," he said. "I didn't
just fall off the turnip truck."

Ian felt himself blushing hot, which was dumb, they were both grown men
here, and they'd already seen a lot today. But this one hit a little closer
to home than leather dudes and drag queens and little twinks in sparkly
shorts and fairy wings.

"`Sides, maybe I'll score some free drinks, right?" Dan grinned, giving Ian
that cocky, but playful wink that always sealed the deal for him. And there
it was again, the idea of other dudes hitting on his Dad. His fucking Dad,
for fuck's sake.

My Dad, he thought, then pushed that one away real quick. Dan was already
making for the End Zone's door, and if there was anything worse than being
on the Bad Idea Train sometimes, it was being left behind by it.

* * * * *

"Shit, you really committed to the whole look," the bouncer said, looking
Dan up and down, taking in his polo shirt and cargo shorts and his old Sox
ballcap, the New Balance hiking shoes he was wearing. He smirked and gave
their IDs a cursory check, particularly Ian's, then nodded them towards the
open door, and the party music pumping out of it. He hadn't even registered
surprise at their shared last name, but then Ian supposed with gay marriage
being a thing now, the bouncer probably assumed they were a couple, and
that gave him a weird little feeling deep down in his guts that he quickly
stamped out.

Ian had been to the End Zone a couple times, and it was an alright kind of
place, more on the bar end of the spectrum than the clubs. He didn't much
like the music in the clubs, and the scene there was a little more cruisy
than he was comfortable with just yet. You could watch the football game at
the End Zone, and the music was quieter, and the crowd tended a little more
to the mature side. It felt like a pretty good place to hang out, though
now, following his father inside, he wasn't so sure about that.

He felt himself blushing again, all tense inside, like the first time he'd
ever been to a gay bar, back in his sophomore year. He liked the bond he
had with his father, the easy camaraderie they had, and Dan's warm
acceptance of his sexuality had been a big deal for Ian. But he'd kind of
hoped to keep this whole side of being gay, his actual gay *life*, separate
from that. Still, here they were, Dan navigating confidently ahead of him,
getting the lay of the land, seemingly perfectly at home in the space. Ian
couldn't help but notice the occasional head turning to follow his father,
and looking at him from behind, broad-shouldered and middle-aged fit, a
handsome profile under the rolled brim of his ballcap... yeah, he
understood. He understood it real well, alright.

Heads were turning to look at him, too. Ian took after his father for the
most part, with decently broad shoulders and a trim waist and strong legs,
and he knew he was more than passably good-looking, with quite a lot of
Dan's features. It helped that Dan had stayed fit and set the example for
him, stressing the importance of keeping in decent shape and doing your
best. He'd inherited plenty of good genes, and now that he was growing into
himself as a man, they were really starting to come together in ways he
liked. Seeing Dan mature into the handsome, solid specimen he'd become gave
Ian plenty to hope for in the coming years, too.

But he was still getting used to being checked out the way other gay guys
did, and especially right now. It had been one thing while they were out
and about at the festivities today, those guys scoping him out, scoping his
Dad out. Made him feel a perverse sense of pride, almost, to have all those
guys appreciating his Dad, and him in turn too. Maybe they saw the
resemblance, and he wondered about that off and on, what those observing
men might make of that.

It felt different in here, though, in the enclosed confines of the End
Zone, the guys pressed closer, many of them already shirtless, the air
starting to thicken with that mix of uniquely male scents, cologne and beer
and sweat and musk. It all felt headier, somehow, more animal. Closer. They
were off the streets now, out of the general public's eye, in a
particularly male space, and Ian swore he could feel the testosterone in
the air. He swore he could feel his body starting to respond to it, too,
deep inside. The gazes falling on him felt firmer, more intent, and the way
these other men looked at his father felt just as pointed. Loaded, and the
more Ian watched Dan's broad back and high, round ass shift as he
confidently moved through the crowding space, the more loaded his own gaze
felt too.

Standing at the bar gave Ian a little bit more of a feeling of control of
the situation. It was always like this, the few times he'd come here; suck
in your breath, make your way inside, find a spot at the bar to get a drink
and anchor yourself, and figure out your next move. He wasn't sure what the
next move would be tonight, with Dan in the mix. Right now, his father was
leaning over the bar, having a conversation with the hunky young
bartender. The guy was a big young dude, all smooth, solid muscles,
gym-honed on an ex-jock base, wearing a pair of Under Armour boxer briefs
and a pair of sneakers and nothing else but a pair of sweatbands on his
wrists. He was the kind of guy that definitely appealed to the slightly
older clientele that tended to come here, and Ian was pretty sure the dude
made a fortune in tips. Pretty sure the dude was straight, too, but that
was OK, Ian kind of admired his hustle. I was hilarious that his father had
brought him into a gay bar, and had managed to find the likely one straight
dude here and engage him an animated conversation about college football in
the space of about 15 minutes. But that was Dan all over. He was the kind
of guy who could make a new friend just about anywhere, and it figured that
in a roomful of men, he'd be perfectly at ease. Even if half of them seemed
to want to fuck him, by the way they were looking at him.

Dan didn't seem to notice any of that, but Ian did, sipping steadily on his
beer as he looked around the room, one ear half-tuned to his father and the
deep-voiced bar jock talking about the Tigers, the other listening to the
sounds of the space. The crowd was a decent size, and now that it was
getting dark out, more were coming in. A lot of older guys, sometimes in
groups, sometimes with the younger dudes who tended to hang around
them. Ian wondered if he could be considered one of those younger dudes. He
hadn't yet had the balls to go home with anybody he'd met here, but he'd
always been aware of what he might be looking for, the kind of men his gaze
tended to linger longest on. It was almost always the guys in their
thirties and up, the ones who wore their frames with ease, with a certain
relaxed confidence about being a man that Ian had always thought came with
having a few years under your belt. A sense of solidity was what it was, he
figured -- solidity and experience and confidence. None of the guys his own
age that he'd been with really had that, and it had always been a little
bit disappointing to Ian to find that out afterwards, no matter how good
the sex might have been.

There were a lot of those kinds of guys here tonight, older and wiser, and
Ian was getting that feeling inside of him, the one he often got when he
started to loosen up a little in a place like this. A sense of possibility
in the air, for the men here tonight and maybe for him too, with one of
them. A building feeling of something inside him. Courage, he knew, and as
he worked his way down to the last third of his beer, he wondered if maybe
tonight would have been the night. If he would have let one of these
handsome, assured, mature guys maybe take him home, and show him that he
was right to want what he'd always wanted.

But it wasn't going to be tonight, because his father was here with him,
and as close as they were, and as good and relaxed a time as they'd had
together at Pride today, Ian figured that going home with some handsome
DILF might be stretching things between him and Dan a bit. His father was
only here for a few days, but Ian could come here any time he liked, and
just thinking it, he knew he'd be back, soon, on his own and freer to
explore.

"Gotta hit the head," Dan suddenly said close to his ear over the rising
noise, startling Ian out of his little reverie. "Order us another round,
and I'll be right back. If I don't get eaten alive out there, anyways," Dan
said, nodding in the direction of the man-packed floor with an amused
smirk, giving Ian's shoulder a warm squeeze.

Well, so much for one drink and getting the fuck out of here, but what the
hell. He signalled the bartender as he watched his father make his way to
the bathrooms, watching the men responding to him, heads turning to
appraise his form, looking to their friends and nodding at his father,
leaning in close to talk about him in his wake. Many of them were guys his
age too, and it gave him a weird little extra vibe inside to see that. Ian
wondered what they were saying, and fuck that was so wrong. It was even
wronger that he had a pretty good idea of what it was. Dan was a
good-looking man, tall and strong and healthy, confident and masculine. Ian
had grown up in the man's large shadow, trying his best to make himself
into his father's image. He knew perfectly well what other men would find
appealing about him, just like he knew they were probably picturing what
Dan's broad chest and big arms and long legs would look like with his polo
shirt and shorts on their bedroom floor.

Ian had the advantage there, because he knew perfectly well what Dan looked
like, underneath his clothes. Or most of them, anyways. And he knew how the
man looked through a hungry gaze, too. Had since he was 18... well, for
quite a while before that, but especially since he was 18, the summer after
his graduation from high school, when Dan had rented a place at the Outer
Banks for a couple weeks and invited him down. Dan's girlfriend had been
there too, an attractive and ambitious woman in her late twenties who
looked spectacular in her swimsuit, and looked at Ian with barely concealed
boredom. Dan had dated quite a few women like that since he and Ian's
mother had divorced, never for longer than a few months, and by the time of
the beach trip, it looked like Dan and... whatever her name was were
reaching the end of their run too.

But Ian and Dan had been having a pretty good time, especially halfway
through the trip, when Dan had opened up a bottle of Sailor Jerry one night
and made a couple rounds of decently stiff drinks. Ian still remembered it,
how smooth the rum had tasted, the feeling of sitting in the hot tub out on
the deck overlooking the beach, the stars bright overhead as they
talked. Feeling like a man, and being treated like one by the one man he'd
always looked to more than anyone else. They talked easily, more than
they'd really talked in years, and once Kayla or Taylor or whatever her
name was had gotten bored and gone inside, leaving them to it, the
conversation had continued. The way his father opened up to him made him
see the man through different eyes, and himself too. It was a good feeling
that had persisted ever since, even with everything else that had gone on.

"She's not gonna be happy with you," he said after a while, feeling good
and loose and nicely buzzed from the rum and gingers Dan had fixed them.

"Story of my life, buddy," Dan said with a rueful shake of his
head. "Sucks, because she's good in... well, you know."

"Yeah, we don't have to talk about that," Ian said, blushing, trying not to
picture his well-built father, handsomer than ever in his early forties, in
bed with the pretty blonde. Trying, but not succeeding, and the warm
bubbles of the hot tub sure weren't helping. In a matter of seconds he was
full-blown hard, his cock flaring up with that sudden quickness that always
caught him off guard. He reached under the water to adjust himself without
even thinking about it.

"Probably best we don't," Dan chuckled. "You too, huh?" he added after a
long pause, nodding at Ian's arm, half-submerged in the water, tugging at
the tightness in his board shorts. Ian blushed harder, glad his father
couldn't see it in the dark, but he could see the easy grin on his father's
handsome face, and he didn't know if that made things better or worse.

"Don't worry about it, man," Dan said, reaching under the water himself,
and Ian tried his best not to look at the way the man's big biceps shifted
as he adjusted himself. "Happens to us all. Shit, I'd be worried if it
didn't, strong and healthy young dude like you."

In spite of himself and the circumstances, Ian felt weirdly pleased by
that, and at least it made him feel less weird about being boned up in the
hot tub, next to his Dad, who seemed to be in the same kind of fix.

"You should go out and, y'know, do it on the beach before we go," Dan
said. "I mean, at night. I don't wanna have to bail you out on indecency
charges," he chuckled.

"Yeah, uh... that seems kind of risky," Ian said uneasily, unable to
believe they were having this conversation. Dan just snorted and took
another healthy slug of his drink.

"That's what makes it so fun," he said, and Ian didn't need to look to hear
the smile in his father's voice. He wondered if Dan was throbbing as hard
in his shorts as he was, and maybe it was the liquor telling him that he
was very much his father's son, especially right now.

"You game, bud?" Dan said after another long pause, and Ian could hear the
rum in his voice.

"What? To..." he said, sounding like an idiot, and Dan just nodded,
grinning at him.

"Sure, fuck it," Dan said. "C'mon, it'll be fun. What, you never jerked it
with a bud before?"

Ian just shook his head, dumbfounded. Not exactly telling the truth,
either. But his Dad was... kind of calling him his bud, and weird as all
this was, that was pretty awesome.

"Bullshit," Dan said good-naturedly, downing the rest of his drink and
standing up. He looked big and sleek and hearty, all deep-chested and
strong-waisted, water streaming down his big arms and matting the hair down
on his pecs and his solid core. More than that, he was hard in his shorts,
the wet fabric clinging to it in ways that made Ian's mouth water and his
insides get all tight and hot-feeling. Even in the low light from the house
behind them and the stars overhead, Dan was an impressive man. Ian had
always thought so, more and more guiltily the past few years, but it was
objectively true, and the truth wouldn't be denied. The pulse of his own
cock, hard and trapped in his shorts, wouldn't either.

"C'mon," his father said, stepping out of the hot tub and onto the deck,
snagging a towel in one hand and the Sailor Jerry in the other. "You're off
to college and all kinds of adventures. Have one with your old man before
you go. Get you started out right."

And that's how they'd wound up on the smooth, damp sand of Corolla Beach
past midnight, side by side on beach towels, shorts open, jerking off
together. It was the craziest fucking thing that had ever happened to Ian
in his young life, one of those things that can only happen when everything
lines up a certain way. Passing the bottle back and forth had eased the
edge off for him, and boosted that special sense of manly camaraderie
between them, and after some initial hesitation, Ian was really enjoying
himself. Dan seemed in no hurry, and Ian had to agree that it was a pretty
fuckin' magical thing, stroking off with a buzz on, listening to the rush
of the Atlantic before them, nothing else around but the stars and the
breeze whispering through the sea grass as the two men worked on their
cocks, grunting softly, letting go, following that age-old instinct to make
yourself feel good, and strive towards release.

Dan looked even better under the moonlight, leaned back on one hand, biceps
bulging and flexing as he propped himself up and worked on his cock, his
handsome profile a study in smiling, contented concentration as he made
himself feel good, eyes closed. Even with the shadow of his big torso
falling over it, Ian could see his father was big. He'd never been ashamed
of his own piece, and years of covert study of his buddies and teammates
had shown him he had plenty to be proud of, especially for his age, but Dan
was sporting a man's cock, solid in length and girth. It wasn't big like a
porn star's, but then it wasn't built for show, either. It was built for
pleasure, and that sudden half-drunk realization about his own father's
cock hit Ian with a slow heat that simmered through him and his own cock in
his hand. It made him close his eyes and focus on the fast-rising pleasure
inside himself.

"Fuck yeah, go for it, dude," Dan growled quietly beside him, and Ian's
eyes flashed back open to see his father casting him a sidelong glance,
giving him an approving nod, his smile gleaming in the pale moonlight,
working his own dick faster now, and holy fuck, it was all too much, too
quick, and he wished this could last all night, but it was too late for
that now...

"Ah *fuck*," he moaned to himself, but he knew Dan could hear him, and the
man grunted as if in agreement, the sound of his spit-slicked cock suddenly
loud, making music in the soft night breeze.

"Yeah man," Dan grunted, and that was it for Ian, his cock pulsing in his
grip as it started to shoot, hot streaks of cum that arced through the air
and splatted warmly against the muscles of his stomach and chest as he
gasped and shook and dug his curling toes into the sand. Dan let out a low,
rumbling growl, then a series of gasps, and Ian opened his eyes just in
time to see the man shooting now too, grunting huskily as he pasted the
already damp hair on his chest and belly with fresh streaks of wetness,
over a half-dozen thick shots.

"Mmmmmm," Dan murmured, chuckling as he sat back on his hands, chest
heaving, cock still standing proud from the shadows of his open shorts. His
cum gleamed on his torso in the moonlight, and Ian might have been pretty
drunk, but he was still together enough to feel all this imprinting in his
memory already, and he wasn't mad about it.

"Guess we both needed that," his father said, and Ian could just make out
the wink he gave him, not to mention the appraising, approving way the man
gave him one last look-over. "Told ya it'd be fun."

"It was pretty, uh, memorable," Ian said, feeling the blush start to set
back in again, along with the start of the doubts, wondering how he was
going to get all the cum off him without getting covered in sand, like a
sugared donut.

"And that's what counts," Dan said. "Believe me, you'll appreciate that the
older you get."

Dan led a running charge to the water to get cleaned up, and he might have
had a skinful of rum, but he still moved like the athlete he'd been, and
all of it etched into Ian's memory. They washed the loads off their bodies
and into the Atlantic, then paddled around for a little bit under the
moonlight, not really saying anything, just enjoying sharing the moment. It
was weird, and it was crazy, and they probably shouldn't have done it, but
it was one of the best things that Ian had ever experienced.

So for all the guys looking at his father tonight in the End Zone, checking
him out, mentally undressing him, only Ian really knew how the man looked,
and not just out of his clothes but really, fully into himself. It was a
strange but hot feeling of privilege, and it brought back that tingle down
deep in his insides, the same way thinking about that night at Corolla
did. It was all starting to bring back the tightness in his shorts, too,
and if he didn't watch himself, he'd be pitching a tent right here in the
middle of the bar. Any other night, that might not be such a bad thing
here. Not this Daddy Night, though.

Common sense said to keep things light with another beer, but even as he
was thinking that, Ian was asking the bartender for a couple of Seven and
Sevens. He remembered Dan drinking them on summer evenings sometimes, and
that seemed like a good kind of drink to buy your father on Father's Day
weekend, even if it was in a gay bar. Maybe especially so, he thought with
a smirk to himself.

"That's a shame, I was just about to offer to buy you one," came a voice
from close beside him, and he turned to see a guy standing side-on to him,
leaning against the bar with a handsome smile. A nice-looking guy,
everyday-handsome features that his smile amplified, wearing a full but
close-cropped beard that was more salt than pepper. It matched his hair,
silvery-gray with darker threads, cut tight but still showing a little bit
of a curl to it. Ian was a little startled, by his closeness and the
approach. He still wasn't really used to that, he guessed. Not yet, at
least.

"Uh, thanks, I appreciate it," Ian said, wondering how much the bar
lighting showed the blush in his cheeks.

"Well, the offer's not closed yet," the man said with a little bit more of
that grin, and damn, on any other night... "I've seen you here before,
haven't I?"

"Um, yeah, I've been in here a couple times," Ian said, knowing how young
and dumb he must sound. People had always said he had more than a little of
his father's charm, so where the fuck was it right now? "I'm new in town,
but seems like a pretty cool place."

"Yeah, it's not bad," the guy said, and it felt like his gaze had never
left Ian's face, which was both hot and flattering and a little awkward
too. "I like that it's pretty chill, or at least it is when it's not
Pride. Crowd's a little more mature, you know?"

"Right," Ian nodded. "I like that too."

"That's good to hear," the guy said, all inviting smile and warm eyes. "A
lot of guys your age would be at Encounters, or the Palm."

"Yeah, I've tried that," Ian said, wrinkling his nose a little. "Not really
my scene, I guess."

"Amen to that," the guy said with a good-natured chuckle, sticking out his
hand. "I'm Troy."

"Ian," he said, putting his own hand out reflexively. The guy had a nice
grip, strong but not like he was trying to prove it, firm and warm and
solid. Troy held it a little longer than most regular guys would, but that
was alright by him. They weren't most regular guys, after all.

"I'm glad to meet you, Ian," Troy said. "And glad us grown-up guys are more
your scene," he added, nodding his head at the room full of men behind
them, his gaze never leaving Ian's.

"Nothing wrong with that, right?" Ian said with a quiet little chuckle,
blushing a little more, feeling real seen right now. He broke the gaze to
look at the crowd, all the guys who had at least ten years on him, some
quite a lot more, and even in this weird, charged little moment on this
unpredictable evening, he knew how right it was. What he felt, and thought
about, and was looking for, in his halting, training-wheels kind of
way. All these guys with their aura of maturity, and experience, and
strength, and how he'd always kind of gravitated to that. Guys like his
Dad, and it wasn't the first or even the hundredth time he'd recognized
that, but it still stoked that weird little spark deep down inside him just
the same.

Then he spotted the man himself, his father halfway back from the
bathrooms, some guy leaning in close to talk to him over the music, Dan's
ballcapped head tilted low to hear him, nothing but his stubbled jaw and
his grin visible. It was a weird jolt, being where they were and knowing
just what the guy was hoping for in talking to his Dad. His fucking Dad,
here in the gay bar with him, getting hit on by some
dude. Unfuckinbelievable.

"Not a thing," Troy said, and Ian returned his attention to him, feeling
that yearning sense of possibility again, but already resigned to it not
being his night. Not for this. Which sucked, because he really liked what
he saw. Troy was nicely built, like most of the guys in here, with a fitted
T-shirt that accentuated his shoulders and arms and pecs. Solid more than
cut, which had always been Ian's thing, and even more so the older he
got. "We all gotta start out someplace... why not with a guy who's already
been there, right?"

"That's a great way to put it, man," Ian said, and just then the hunky bro
bartender set the pair of drinks down in front of him for him and Dan. Troy
looked at the two glasses, then back to him, and Ian felt immediately bad,
like he'd let the guy down.

"So I'm guessing you're not psychic, and you didn't order one of those for
me..." Troy said, and he was still smiling and his gaze was still warm, but
Ian was mature enough to see he was disappointed too, and he felt like five
kinds of an asshole.

"Yeah, I wish that was the case," Ian said ruefully, and just then Dan
finally broke through the growing crowd of men to rejoin him.

"Oh *nice*," he said, picking up his drink and clapping Ian's shoulder
warmly. "You read my mind, bud."

Ian saw and felt Troy pull back just a little bit, and he wanted to rush
forward with an explanation to fill the space again, but shit, how to
explain being in a gay bar with your own father on Pride? And on Daddy
Night, no less?

"Well, you make a handsome couple," Troy said with a rueful smile, and it
looked like he was going to step fully away and leave them to it, but Dan
laughed and stuck out his hand.

"Well thank you, not so bad yourself," he said, and Ian knew he was just
being all jocular and half-drunk and whatever, but still... fuck. "I'm Dan,
and this is my boy Ian."

Troy looked a little taken aback, but amused too, as he shook Dan's
hand. "Pleasure to meet you both. I was just saying to Ian it's nice to
meet a young guy who appreciates more mature company."

"You know, I was just thinking how *seasoned* the crowd is here tonight,"
Dan said, relinquishing Troy's hand and dropping his big arm round Ian's
shoulders. "But I guess that goes with the territory when it's Daddy Night,
am I right?"

Troy laughed, and Ian kind of wanted to die, and this night was probably
never going to end.

"S'alright," Dan went on, giving Ian's shoulders a warm squeeze. "He's
always been a little more mature than most guys his age anyways. Makes him
good company."

"I don't doubt it," Troy said, giving Ian that interested look once
again. Another guy disarmed by Dan's easygoing manly charm, but hell, it
still worked on Ian too. God, what a fucked-up time this was, but he'd
hopefully be laughing ruefully about it by this time tomorrow.

"So, are you gonna toss your hat in the ring?" Troy asked. "The contest,"
he said to Dan's confused look, nodding at the banner over the DJ booth by
the dancefloor. Ian hadn't really looked at it, beyond the big bold DADDY
NIGHT! part, because that on its own had been enough to make him a little
anxious about all this. Sure enough, below that it said "Daddy of the Night
Competition! Shake What Your Daddy Gave Ya @9PM!!!"

"Oh Christ," Ian muttered, and Dan laughed out loud, and Troy just grinned
at them both.

"What, you think I don't got what it takes?" Dan asked him, giving his
shoulders another squeeze.

"Oh you *definitely* do," Troy said, giving Dan an appraising, approving
look that made Ian all antsy inside again. He couldn't tell if it was a
good or a bad feeling.

"Fuck yeah, go for it, man," chimed in the hunky bro bartender, who'd
reappeared to pick up empties and wipe down the bar beside them. "Grand
prize is a hundred bucks and your bar tab, and a T-shirt too."

"Hell, I've done worse for less," Dan grinned, and Ian just stared at
him. "Boys at the gym might get a kick out of the shirt, too."

"Ah fuck," Ian muttered, and Dan ruffled his hair with a big troublemaking
kind of grin.

"All part of the adventure, right buddy?" he said, and that just made Ian
think even more about that night at the beach, and his father's invitation
to have an adventure that led to them getting off together, and now his
cock was starting to threaten his shorts again. "Screw it, I'm in. Guess
we'd better have another round. And I think shots are in order this time,
what do you guys say?"

Ian didn't have a chance to decline, and a couple minutes later the hunky
bartender had lined up four shots of Jamesons, including one for himself
and Troy at Dan's insistence, and now it was too late to say no.

"Here's to adventure," Dan said, voice booming cheerfully enough to make
heads turn in their direction. "And to a happy Pride, boys!" A little cheer
went up from the guys clustered around them, and they all drank to that,
even Ian. He still felt deeply conflicted about all this, but underneath
that, there was an undeniable happiness to have his father be part of his
world like this, and to have him embracing his son and his life as warmly
and openly as he always did. That alone was worth celebrating, and it was
going a long way to making him more relaxed about everything else too.

Still, he was all full of a weird mix of nerves and embarrassment and
awkwardness when the competition started, overlaid with the warm buzz of
the drinks, and even more so when Dan's name was called and his father made
his way to the stage. A cheer and a whole lot of wolf-whistles went up as
Dan did a slow turn, big arms raised, that charmingly sexy grin of his in
full effect beneath the rolled brim of his ballcap as he showed off a
little for the crowd. Maybe it was the drinks loosening him up, and maybe
it was the distancing effect of being in the back of a crowded gay bar,
watching his father display himself for a bunch of thirsty dudes, but Ian
found himself taking in the sight of his father like one of them, too. Not
just as a son, but as a man, examining his father like he was just another
of the hunky older guys in here. In a room where nobody but them knew they
were father and son, where everybody was checking everyone else out, he
felt truly free to do the same, and the hot, taboo thrill of it just made
him want to do it even more.

The DJ cued up "Whatta Man" by Salt-N-Pepa, and Dan started to move his
hips playfully to the music. He'd always been a capable enough dancer, with
decent natural rhythm and an easy willingness to just go with it and have
fun. The crowd sure seemed to approve, whooping and whistling and cheering
him on as Dan hammed it up a little, flexing his biceps, playfully undoing
the last button of his polo, turning around to shake his handsome ass, and
it just seemed to spur him on even more. Ian felt that old familiar secret
hunger inside him, building up strong and steadily, watching Dan tease up
the bottom of his shirt and run his hand through the fur on his tight,
solid stomach, even flirting with the button on his shorts.

That image, Dan's fingers toying with his shorts button, brought on some
serious déjà vu out of nowhere, and Ian felt a wave of heat
inside. The second-last night of the trip to Corolla, the two of them on
the deck, another bottle of Sailor Jerry on the table between their
loungers, three drinks deep under the moonlight again. His father's
girlfriend had already left, claiming she had to get back to work, and Ian
was pretty sure he wouldn't be seeing her again. Seemed like Dan wouldn't
be either, but he didn't seem too broken up by it, more reflective than
anything.

"Glad you and me got to have this time," Dan said, reaching across to
squeeze Ian's shoulder, and it wasn't just the liquor that had Ian feeling
all warm inside.

"Me too, Dad," Ian said. "I really enjoyed it. I'm sorry your friend..." he
started to say, but Dan just waved him off.

"Nah, don't worry about that," Dan said. "Sometimes people in your life
come and go, that's all. One of the things you'll find out, but it's all
good. Part of growing up, y'know?"

Ian nodded at that, and felt something welling up inside of him. Something
he'd been wanting to say to his father for a while, to tell him about
himself. But now didn't feel exactly like the right time to come out to
him, either.

"You and me, though," Dan went on. "I'm always here for you, you know that,
right?"

"Yeah, Dad," Ian said, feeling his eyes prickle a little bit, but in a good
way. This time it was him reaching out to squeeze Dan's shoulder, and the
way his father smiled at him made him feel like a million bucks. "I'm
always here for you too, no matter what."

Dan reached up with his free hand and squeezed Ian's on his shoulder.

"Even when I do crazy shit, like the other night?" he chuckled, and Ian
felt his cock tingle in his shorts at the memory of the beach, the two of
them, cocks in hand, stroking off side by side. How hot and ballsy and
exciting it was, of course. But how weirdly close it had made him feel to
his father, too. In its own strange way, an acknowledgment of the man his
father saw him as, now.

"Even then, you perv," Ian laughed, and Dan laughed with him, nice and loud
and genuine. "It was fun, though."

"Was, wasn't it?" Dan said, a gleam in his eye as he grinned at his son,
and Ian felt that tingle in his loins solidifying. "Sometimes a guy just
needs to let off a little steam, y'know?"

They both sipped their drinks, and Ian caught the way Dan's hand dropped to
his lap and squeezed. He couldn't help the surge in his underwear, or the
blush on his face, or what he said next.

"You feelin' steamy over there again?" he said, blushing even harder at his
own boldness. Dan just chuckled quietly.

"Maybe so," he said after a moment, and Ian's pulse started to move
quicker. "What about you, bud?"

"Uh, you know," Ian shrugged, nerves rising along with his hardon
now. "More often than not."

"Yeah, I bet," Dan said. "You take after your old man, after all."

"Do I?" Ian said, impressed with how casual he sounded, because he sure
didn't feel it. But maybe that was part of being his father's son, knowing
what to say instinctively, and when.

"More than you think, I bet," Dan grinned, fixing him with a direct, but
easygoing look.

"Guess you're probably gonna go for a midnight stroll on the beach," Ian
said after a minute, shifting one leg to half-hide the growing mound in his
shorts.

"I might," Dan said, and even looking carefully straight ahead, Ian could
feel his father's gaze on him, like he could feel the increasingly loaded
air between them. "But I'm pretty comfy right here, too."

Ian swallowed hard, and nodded, and now he was reaching down to adjust
himself too.

"No reason not to be," he said. "Just us guys, right?"

"Exactly," Dan said, voice low and deep. "Just us men, son."

Fuck, his father had to know what he was doing here, and he didn't seem at
all inclined to stop it. Ian didn't really want him to, either. He'd been
thinking about the other night ever since it had happened, and when you
laid that over the top of all the deep, secret things he'd been thinking
about his good-looking stud of a father these past several years... yeah,
it was hard to want to stop him, or what it felt like was about to happen.

Dan stood up slowly from his lounger, and Ian saw the size and shape of the
mound in the man's shorts, big and prominent, from the corner of his eye as
his father opened the patio door, leaned in, and flicked off the lights
inside the house. Now it was just the light from the stars and the moon
overhead, almost full tonight, and the low, soft glow from the hot tub. But
enough to see by, as Dan stepped back to his lounger, poured another slug
of rum in his glass, and looked at him. A long, slow look, Ian feeling it
all through his body as he tried to relax, just be easy, just go with the
flow like his father did so well.

"I'm game if you are, bud," Dan finally said, and Ian made himself look up
at the man, and nodded.

"Yeah," he said, his voice thick in his throat. "Yeah, I'm game."

Dan grinned, and squeezed his shoulder again, his hand lingering a moment
before he stepped back over to his lounger and set his drink down. Ian
half-watched his father's hand reaching for the button of his cargo shorts,
slowly undoing them, and without even thinking about it, Ian was reaching
for the drawstring of his gym shorts too.

He couldn't not think about that now, watching his father up on the
dancefloor of the End Zone, flirting with the button of his shorts,
wriggling his hips sexily to the groove of the music. A bunch of horny men
cheering him on as he worked his polo shirt up his torso, looking powerful
and solid and manly as fuck, teasing his audience like a pro.

"Damn, your guy's fine," Troy said admiringly beside him, and it gave Ian a
weird, hot little thrill not to correct him.

'Not my man, my *Dad*,' he thought, feeling his cock growing, as he nodded
in agreement. And it was funny, he'd think later, how he didn't correct
Troy then. Funny, but in the moment, it felt right too.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, he really is," and then they both watched as Dan
somehow worked his shirt over his head and off without disturbing his
ballcap, his whole muscled, furred torso on display now, and reached
teasingly for the button of his shorts.

"Get it, Daddy!" some guy shouted, and Dan just smiled wider. The DJ was
clearly thinking quick and reading the room, because he dropped the audio
on "Whattaman" and the brassy opening horns of "You Can Leave Your Hat On"
kicked in, and the crowd of men sent up an even louder roar, as Dan shot
the DJ a shit-eating grin. He was really playing to the crowd now, enjoying
himself, and Ian found himself wishing he'd known his father when the man
was his age, a big, young adventurous sailor with a wild streak.

Still, the wild streak apparently hadn't gone anywhere, and Ian sucked in a
sharp breath as he watched his father run a hand teasingly over the front
of his shorts and the ample package beneath, the other still flirting with
the button... and holy fuck, it wasn't just a trick of the light. His
father was starting to throw hard.

"Go Dan!" Troy cheered beside him, pumping his fist, and Ian just swallowed
hard, unable to tear his eyes away as his father undid the button. Just
like he'd done on the deck at the beach that night, the night the two of
them sprawled out in their loungers, practically naked under the stars, and
worked themselves slowly to another big, healthy side-by-side pair of
loads.

"Aw *fuck*," Ian muttered to himself, and watched as his father rotated his
hips like a real stripper, then let his cargo shorts drop slowly down his
long, strong, hairy thighs to the floor, the crowd of men roaring their
approval.

Ian hadn't seen his father stripped down like this in a long time, and the
man still had it all going on, still big and fit and powerful, threads of
grey in his handsome carpet of chest hair just amplifying his hotness. Not
just to Ian's eyes, either -- the dudes were going wild for Dan, stripped
down to his New Balances and his old ballcap and a simple pair of white
Calvin Klein briefs, one big hand covering the bulge in them as he danced,
but at the same time accentuating it too. He knew exactly what he was
doing, too, that broad, knowing grin on his face said so, and that sent an
even bigger surge through Ian. He could feel himself getting hard in
earnest now, all caught up in the heat and the moment and the unexpected
power of this crazy night, as he watched his own father put his hands up
behind his ballcapped head and grind in a slow, showy circle for the
watching men.

A little flurry of bills fluttered through the air and landed at Dan's
feet, and the guys roared louder, especially when Dan turned his back to
them and made a show of slowly bending over to pick them up, even arching
his back a little, the little patch of fur in the small of his back
gleaming in the light, the twin boxy, muscular halves of his ass straining
the white cotton of his briefs tight. Dan grinned over his shoulder at the
audience, the bill of his ballcap covering his eyes but his smile saying it
all, sexy and knowing and playful all at once. Ian's mother had sometimes
alluded to Dan's wild young Navy days back when they'd first met, and if
ever he'd doubted that intriguing untold past, Ian sure believed it now. He
was suddenly hungry to hear more about that, to pour them a couple of
drinks and listen to his father tell him stories from back in his wild
young days.

Right now, though, Dan's wild streak was on full display, in real time,
scooping up the scattered bills from the floor and slowly pushing upright
again, back still to the audience, grinning over his shoulder at them as he
rolled his hips and slowly turned around. He slid one hand down over his
chest as the brassy music blared, rubbing the cash over his firm, mature
frame, down over the solid tightness of his core, then slid the bills into
his underwear where they rode low on his hip. Then Dan looked up, over the
heads of the men clustered in front of him, and right at Ian.

Ian grunted to himself, feeling like he'd been socked in the guts. He could
see the gleam of Dan's eyes as they locked on his, and then the subtle way
his wide grin quirked up at one side, just for him. It was a look he
remembered well, from those nights at the beach when he was 18, and from
his memories and fantasies ever since. It was a look that said they weren't
done yet, that there was still more to go, more adventuring to do, if Ian
was game. If he was ready. Without even thinking about it, Ian's hand
grazed the pulsing bulge in his shorts, and found himself subtly nodding
back at his father, thrilling inside when the man gave him a subtle nod
back. They'd always understood each other, but tonight, Ian really felt
that connection between them, how alike they both were at their
core. Tonight felt like Dan giving him permission to be himself, not to
care what anyone else thought, just to live his life and enjoy the
possibilities that lay ahead of him as a young man in a new city. To
embrace all the adventures that might come his way, and make some for
himself too.

Dan looked back at the men before him and ran his hand over the bulge in
his briefs, and yeah, he was growing right before their eyes, casting that
big, impressive shape in his Calvins that Ian still remembered
crystal-clear from the beach. Dan teased his hand back and forth over his
cockbulge as the men roared their approval, grinning easily as he did,
playful and flirty and sexy as fuck. More bills were tossed at him, but he
ignored them this time, looking back up to find Ian's eyes again, and Ian's
eyes were torn between his father's direct, intense but somehow warm gaze,
and the shift of his big hands as he tucked his thumbs into the waistband
of his briefs, right as the song started to reach its crescendo.

"Oh *damn*," Troy laughed beside him, then let out a big cheer, more of
them ringing out as Dan shifted his hips and inched the waistband down,
exposing the fullness of his bush and the root of his hard cock, stretching
across his hip. Dan looked around at the men before him with his sexy grin,
working the room like a pro, and then back at Ian again. Ian gasped a
little as his father inched his undies down a little bit more, baring more
of himself, a good few thick, hard inches of his cock, the audience roaring
loud enough to make Ian's ears ring. Dan held Ian's gaze the whole time,
and it was like the whole room fell away for a second, leaving just the two
of them as his father flirted his briefs down to show off his handsome
endowment. Ian swallowed hard, and when Dan subtly nodded at him again, he
found himself almost numbly nodding back.

Then the spell was broken, as Dan eased his briefs more or less back up in
place and grinned around at the crowd of men tossing stray bills and
enthusiastic cheers at him, hands out at his sides. He rolled his hips
through the final bars of the song and then popped a double bis flex that
made Ian grunt with desire, and he faintly heard Troy beside him murmur in
agreement as they both watched the powerful bulge of his father's flexed
biceps. The DJ faded the track out and brought up his mic. "Daddies and
gentlemen, give it up for Dan the Man!"

Dan took a little bow, then picked up his shorts and stepped into them as
the audience clapped and cheered.

"I think it's safe to say Dan took the cake tonight, fellas," the DJ
said. "And even if he doesn't win..." -- and here a bunch of boos went up
from the crowd -- "...I'm pretty sure he'll be taking *somebody's* cakes
tonight..."

More whistles and a few stray shouts of "Pick me!" went up. Dan just
laughed as he hiked his cargo shorts up over his ass, then scooped up the
rest of the stray bills on the floor and stuffed a few of them into the
empty highball glass sitting on the DJ's booth.

"I wonder who the lucky fella will be," Troy said beside him, giving him a
meaningful grin, and Ian just blushed and drank his drink and tried not to
let his imagination get too vivid. Later, maybe. Probably definitely. But
not right now.

It took a while for Dan to get back to them, still shirtless, his polo
clutched in one hand, the other holding his shorts up, the top button still
undone. There was a lot of white Calvins bulge still on display, framed at
the top of his half-done-up zipper, and Ian was sure more than a few hands
had reached on in there and kept it nice and full as Dan worked his way
back over. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about that; a little
bit amused, a little bit in disbelief that his own father had done all this
tonight, more than a little stirred by the notion of those men brazenly
reaching in to fondle his Dad's big firm cock. And yeah, just a little bit
jealous, even. Not of his father, because Dan seemed to be having the time
of his life, and Ian loved to see him happy and know he'd helped make him
that way. But a little jealous of those men who'd stepped up and gotten
themselves a feel of his Dad. It was wrong and fucked-up, but it would be
even more wrong not to admit it to himself, and figure out what to do with
it.

Ian tried not to look his father up and down, at the fur clinging slightly
to his big sweaty pecs, or matted down over the slight curve of his belly,
thickening out in a spread that tumbled over the waistband of his CKs. All
that, and the swell of white fabric beneath. Troy, on the other hand,
enjoyed a good long look, Dan just grinning confidently as he tugged the
zipper up and fastened the button, and not hurrying with it either.

"Well that seemed to go alright," Dan said, plunking the rest of the cash
from the floor down on the bar. "Hunter, my friend, that's for taking care
of us tonight. Let's talk about another drink."

Of course he'd found out the bartender's name, because that was one of the
things Dan was good at, and in spite of all the charged-up, conflicting
feelings Ian was having, he had to roll his eyes good-naturedly at that.

"Pick something from the top shelf, on the house," Hunter said, sticking
his fist out over the bar, Dan meeting it with his own like they were best
buds. "I think you've earned it."

"Well in that case, you got any Sailor Jerry?" Dan said, turning to give
Ian a grin that vibed all the way down into his core. "Because I think that
sounds like just the right thing right now, don't you, bud?"

Goddamn, there never had been any doubt, but his Dad sure knew what he was
doing, and the longer the evening went on like this, the more Ian was
starting to feel like he did too.

"I was gonna say don't give up your day job," Ian joked. "But you seemed to
have a pretty good handle on things up there." Dan shot him a big grin, and
there was a definite spark in his eye. He dug inside his shorts again and
brought out the first wad of cash he'd picked up.

"Are you kidding? I made fuckin' bank up there," Dan said proudly, riffing
quickly through the bills and getting them straightened out.

"Shit, that's gotta be a good couple hundred bucks," Ian said with real
surprise. Dan nodded proudly, and took one of Ian's hands and pressed the
folded wad of bills into it. It was warm and slightly damp from the sweat
of Dan's skin, where it had been tucked inside the hip of his briefs while
he showed himself off up there, and Ian had to stifle a little grunt at
that.

"I told you I wanted to buy you a new couch for your new place," Dan
grinned. "That should get us started nicely, don't you think?" Ian just
laughed and slid the warm fold of cash into his front pocket, and he swore
he could still feel Dan's body heat on it, glowing through the fabric of
his underwear, feeling his own flesh responding to it too.

Hunter served up the drinks, and Dan passed them around. Troy looked
surprised, but raised his glass with a grin. "I feel like I should be
buying you a drink for that performance you just gave," he said, and the
way he looked at Dan, just like he'd looked at him, made Ian's insides all
hot, curious and amused and protective and a little jealous all at once.

"Hell, I'm pretty confident that performance just won me first prize," Dan
said with a proud tilt to his chin, slinging his arm easily round Ian's
neck as he lifted his own glass. "Which means I ain't paying for these
anyway."

The two men laughed uproariously at that and clinked their glasses
together, and then they both looked at Ian, and he was damned if he could
see much of a difference in the way his father was looking at him right
now, and the openly interested and available way Troy was.

"Looks like I can't buy either of you a drink, then," Troy said to him, his
gaze warm and level. "That's a shame." He sipped on his drink, his eyes on
Ian's the whole time, and Ian felt himself blush.

"You mean to tell me this nice gentleman offered to buy you a drink, and
you declined?" Dan said to Ian with a big half-buzzed grin, and the direct
aim of his playful charm, along with the dense, familiar musk emanating
from his pit and swirling all around Ian's head like a fog suddenly had his
balls aching. "Well that's not gonna get you very far, is it buddy?"

Ian blushed even harder at that, because the last thing he needed right now
was his father trying to pull strings in his love life. But the man knew
him better than anyone, and he'd always known Ian benefited from a little
nudge from time to time. And yeah, any other night, Ian would have taken
that drink, and let Troy show him what kind of adventure awaited. But
tonight was not that night, no way in hell.

Troy gave Dan an interested and curious look, then Ian, grinning almost to
himself again. "Maybe I'll get another chance sometime," he said, and Ian
found himself nodding automatically.

"I like your odds," he said, that bit of Dan's charm he'd allegedly
inherited starting to show its face now, finally. But apparently it did the
job, because Troy gave him an even more intent, warm gaze and raised his
glass, right as Dan gave him an encouraging squeeze. And at last, between
that and the drinks and the sudden crazy way their whole day had shifted
with the night, it all finally clicked together the right way for Ian, and
he decided to just go with the flow and see where it led them.


***To be continued...***