Date: Sun, 22 Jan 2017 20:03:25 -0600 From: Michael Smith Subject: Jake and Dad - Chapter 1 This story, while a work of complete fiction, contains graphic sexual scenes between consenting males both over and under the age of 18. If this material is offensive to you, this is your preface to not read this story and stop here. Also, if you are under the age of 18, it is most likely illegal for you to read this story. However, I cannot do anything to make you stop so continue at your own discretion. As stated before, this story is a work of total and complete fiction. Any likeness of these characters to real people, living or dead, is completely coincidental. Again, this story is a work of fiction. The author claims any and all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed without the author's consent. Only websites the author chooses and consents to publicate this work of fiction are allowed to publish it. Don't forget to donate to Nifty to help keep this story, and countless others like it, free and openly available for reading. Please, feel free to contact the author of this story with any questions, comments, concerns, or suggestions about this work of fiction at incstwrtr007@gmail.com . The author also asks that you, the reader, understand that all actions that occur in this story are works of fiction. These actions are neither real, encouraged, nor discouraged by the author of this work of fiction. Jake and Dad - Chapter 1 I feel the jet lurch a little bit as it comes to a stop at the terminal, my light sleep interrupted by the sudden motion. I slowly open my eyes and let them adjust to the light before leaning up and looking out of the window, the Chicago skyline glistening in the distance. I sit back in my seat and take a deep breath, my mind and heart starting to race as the gravity of the situation sits in. `What if he doesn't like you?' The absurd question runs through my mind. `Of course he will.' I think back, rolling my eyes at myself a little bit as the plane dings lightly, the "Fasten Seatbelt" light dimming away. I take another deep breath and stand up, barely ducking my head under the overhead bins before reaching down and grabbing my small black duffle bag. After throwing the strap over my shoulders, I shuffle into the line of people in the isle of the plane, looking either way, letting a few people in as the flight attendants open the door to the jetrail. The line of people starts to move forward in a slow rush, causing me to follow suit, holding my bag close so it doesn't bump into anybody or anything else as I make my way to the front of the jet. I smile and thank the flight attendants meriting a slightly confused look and small nod from them. `Damn, yankees.' I think to myself as I step onto the jetrail. The crisp, cold air immediately hits me and fills my lungs, rustling my black running shorts causing them to whip around just above my knees. The weather was definitely something I was going to have to get used to up here. It never got this cold back home in Texas. As I make my way up towards the terminal, I can't help but to feel my heart pounding in my small chest. I shiver a little bit, the slick gray material of my athletic shirt doing little to keep me warm in this frigid air. My calves are a little warmer than most of my body thanks to my navy blue crew socks that managed to stay halfway up my calf like they're supposed to. `Is he going to be right outside the ramp?' I think, my mind starting to race. No, of course not. You've got to have a plane ticket to even make it past the TSA checkpoint. My black tennis shoes thud softly against the worn out carpet of the terminal as I step out of the cold jetrail. Another deep breath fills my lungs as I step towards the central hallway of the terminal, my eyes scanning both directions before I find a sign to the exits. I turn and walk down the terminal, the quiet slapping of my shoes joining the noise of the terminal. People are everywhere, rushing and dodging, standing and smiling, some even eating as they check their phones. I look up at the signs, following their directions to baggage claim, which should be outside of the terminal, right? `He's going to offer to carry my bags.' I knew he would, there wasn't any denying it but it was too late to do anything about it now. Mom had already bought be a plane ticket and shipped me all the way up here. She thought it would be best for me to "transition into manhood," as she put it, with him. I tried to fight it but it wasn't any use. She didn't even care that I couldn't remember anything about him. It's been almost 10 years since their divorce. I'm 14 now but all I knew about him is that she couldn't stand him so how was I supposed to feel? I hadn't the slightest clue of what he was like, what his hobbies were, nothing. Here I am though, rushing towards the baggage claim, headfirst, best foot forward. I stop at the escalator down towards the entrance of the airport and baggage claim and take a breath, uselessly trying to calm myself down. I step onto the moving stairs behind a few people and I scan the crowd below, adjusting and nervously fiddling with the strap going across my chest, supporting the dufflebag. As I scan the crowd, I realize that everyone is moving. Nobody is standing still. How am I supposed to find him in that mess? This city life is already too much for me. The escalator meets the ground and I step off, eyeing the crowd pointlessly. I can't even remember what he looks like. Probably something like me but sandy blond hair and emerald eyes aren't much to go on in the 3rd largest city in the nation. I find the baggage claim sign and step off in that direction hoping to find him there. I continue to scan the crowd and take a seat around a few of the carousels, letting my head rest against my hand for moment of rest. I pull out my phone and turn it on, the screen lighting up with the Apple logo. It buzzes a few times and I check my messages, a few from some friends wishing me a good time here and moved but one from my mom. I tap on the thread and open the single message she sent me. "He'll know what you look like." Is all it read. Great, so not only am I in a completely new city but I'm getting picked up by a man, of which, I have no idea what he looks like. A loud buzzer sounds and a few lights flash as one carousel spins into life. A few large suitcases hit the tray first as the flight is announced. I stand up and slowly make my way over to the carousel, my eyes scanning for my suitcase. A few more large bags hit the spinning platform, none of them mine. Mom said that she she was going to have all of my boxes at home shipped up here today so I just back the essentials. A lighter thud hits my ears as a smaller sized, dark blue suitcase hits the carousel. I smile to myself and start walking towards it, keeping my eye on it as I do. I get a few feet away from my bag and begin to reach for it but a large hand reaches out and effortlessly picks it up. I stop dead in my tracks and open my mouth to protest as my eyes follow the arm up to the person's face and my stomach drops as I meet his eyes. That's him. That's my dad.