Date: Tue, 24 Jan 2017 23:15:43 -0600 From: Michael Smith Subject: Jake and Dad - Chapter 2 Legal stuff: 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 warning 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! The author, again, 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. Author's Notes: Please, feel free to contact me with any questions, comments, concerns, or suggestions about this work of fiction at incstwrtr007@gmail.com . I really enjoy hearing feedback from y'all and it insipires knowing that y'all are reading and enjoying this story!! This is a continuation of the "Jake and Dad" Series. To help understand the story, please go back and read from Chapter 1! Happy Reading Y'all! Jake and Dad - Chapter 2 I close my lips and take in a steady breath as I meet his eyes, the same emerald green ones as my own. We look at each other for what seems like forever but is really just a few seconds before he smiles. He holds the bag in his hand and I stand still, really unsure of what to do, my eyes still locked on his face. He's a bit different than what I was imagining him to look like but I can tell that it's him. He smirks a bit and starts to head towards me, one of his dimples flashing as his porcelain white teeth shine behind his half smile. I'm frozen by the sight of it, really. I haven't seen this man for nearly 10 years and yet, here he is, closing the last few feet between us and it all sinks in. I feel my heart start to race and my palms sweating slightly. I swallow hard as he takes the final step to me and drops my suitcase, looking down at me with a big smile on his face. I look up at him and before I know it, he's got me wrapped up in a hug, his muscular arms holding me tightly, even constricting me a bit as he pulls me against his broad chest. "Well, would you look at who made it home!" He jokes, squeezing me just a little tighter, causing me to stand up on my tip toes, my shoes barely clinging to the ground. He lets me go and I fall back to my feet, surprised at how much taller he is than me. I'm 5'7, a few inches above average for my age so I definitely get it from him. He had to be about 6'2, maybe 6'3. I look up at him and he grabs my shoulder, squeezing it slightly with his big hand. "I take it your flight was alright?" He reaches down and picks up my dark blue suitcase again before raising an eyebrow at me. His voice took me a little off guard, deeper than I was imagining it but soothing as well. He also didn't have the Texan accent I was expecting him to have, either. `He must have lost it from being up North all these years.' I think to myself before giving him a nod, finally coming to my senses. "Y-yeah." I stutter slowly, giving him a weak smile as I fiddle with the strap of my duffle bag that's thrown across my smooth chest. He tilts his head slightly before giving me an understanding nod. He probably knows that I'm nervous, even scared a little bit, too. I swallow hard and look around as everybody else starts to grab their bags. "Why don't we get out of here, huh?" He asks, smiling down at me, squeezing my shoulder where his hand still was. "That sounds good." I smile up at him, a bit wider than before, his reassuring shoulder squeeze taking away a bit of the nervousness. "The truck is parked out in the garage." He lets his hand slide off my shoulder as he turns around and starts to walk away from the baggage claim. I quickly follow suit, matching my pace to his as we walk down the front of the airport, past all the ticket booths and people saying `goodbye' and `hello' to their family and friends. We walk alongside each other for a few moments, past all the busy rush of people everywhere, and then he slowly wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him again. "I'm glad you're here, Jake." He says, his deepish voice a little softer than before. He turns us down a narrow corridor and down a set of plain concrete stairs towards the underground parking garage. I look up at him and meet his eyes again, causing him to smile fully. I can't help but to smile back, feeling a surge of relief crash through my body as we smile at each other. "Me too, Dad." I respond as we reach the garage, letting him guide me down the rows of cars. We reach his truck and my eyebrows lower a little bit in confusion as I stop and look up at him. "You don't live in the actual city, do you?" I reach around grab the handle of my dufflebag, pulling it over my head and carrying it by hand the last few feet to the dusty, gray work truck. "No, I live about a half hour North of the city." He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and fishes out the keys, pressing a button and unlocking the doors. I open the door and place my bag on the seat before getting in. I look over my shoulder and can't help but to watch as he picks my suitcase up, his muscular arm flexing as he lifts it over the side of the truck and places it into the bed with a dull thud. I turn around and shut my door before grabbing my seat belt, pulling on it and clicking it into the latch as he opens his door and climbs in. I look over and watch as he slides the key into the ignition and turns it, the V8 engine of the truck roaring to life. "Is it anything like Texas?" I ask as he pulls the gear shifter down and backs the truck out of the parking spot. In Texas, half an hour is about 30 miles in any direction and 30 miles away from a city means rolling hills, flat grassy plains, and lots and lots of woods. This question causes him to chuckle a bit and shake his head as he puts the truck into drive. "It's probably not what you're picturing." He looks over at me and laughs a little bit at my naivety again. The engine rumbles as he applies the gas and heads toward the exit. We break out onto the busy street full of airport traffic, country music playing on the radio softly. I watch as all the traffic rolls by before I feel the truck accelerating and pulling into the street. I look over as we pull out, watching my father's hand and arm expertly turn the wheel. I look at it for a moment, watching his arm flexes slightly as he tugs on the wheel, causing the truck to shift lanes. I close my eyes and shake my head a bit. `Did I just check my dad's arm out?' I think to myself as I open my eyes and peer out of the darkly tinted window, the skyscrapers of Downtown Chicago glistening in bright early afternoon sun. I turn back and look out of the windshield as we merge with 3 other lanes of traffic, the trucks tires howling against the cold, flat concrete as we accelerate to speed. "Do you ever go into the city then?" I ask slowly, looking over at my dad, his arm fully outstretched, holding the top of the steering wheel tightly. He was in good shape for his age, I had to admit. He was about 35 if I memory served me right. His shoulders were a little on the broad side, taking up the whole width of the seat in the full-sized truck. The seat belt curved nicely with the shape of his strong pecs, outlined even more by his shirt with clung snugly to his chest and shoulders. He reaches up to the dash with his hand, the short sleeves of his midnight blue shirt tightening around his strong upper arm as he grabs a hat and pushes it on top of his head, pulling it down a little low. "Sometimes." He replies, causing me to snap out of my daze. Was I checking him out? No, I couldn't have been. I just haven't seen him for over the last half of my life and it was just the reality setting in. He moves the truck into the fast lane and speeds up before setting the cruise control. "The head office for work is in the City so I have to go once every two weeks or so." He leans back in his seat, letting his left foot lay flat on the floorboard, hit left leg raising up as he relaxes into the drive. "Why do you ask?" "I was just wondering." I shrug and look at the skyline slowly disappearing into the mirror behind the sea of cars. I can't help but to lean back my own seat, letting my head fall back against the bottom of headrest. I close my eyes and let out a slow breath, feeling the exhaustion of the travel time setting in slowly, the gentle hum of the engine almost lulling me to sleep. ***** I feel the truck starting to slow down as we get off the interstate. I sit up and stretch a bit, moaning softly as I do. I lean forward and look around, a little confused. "How long was I out for?" I ask, my words slurring a bit as I wake up from my light sleep. I reach in my pocket and pull out my phone, 4:30pm. I look back out of the windows, people and buildings still very prevalent. "Oh, about 25 or 30 minutes." He shrugs and reaches up, scratching a little bit of the stubble on his jaw before looking over at me. "Why?" I look around still, not answering his question for a minute. "I just thought." I start, not really sure where to begin. Being around this many people, in a city of this size was a crazy thought to me. I had been to Dallas and Houston before, of course, but 30 minutes outside of those cities was still back to grass fields and heavy woods. "I thought it would be a little more country-ish." I look over at him, expecting an explanation even though there wasn't one there. He looks back and we catch each other's eyes for a moment before I lean back into the seat, letting out a small sigh as the truck accelerates from the light. I close my eyes for a bit more as we pass a few car dealerships and bodyshops, assuming that we're getting close to his house. Well, my new home really. I open my eyes and slowly the busy streets start to feel more like home. I see a Walgreen's on a corner and then a Starbucks across the street. I smile out of the window as we ride past them but then I feel my dad's hand, covering mine lightly. My heart stops and I slowly look over at it, his large hand covering mine on the center console. I look at it for moment before looking up to my dad, my mind racing. "I know that it's not what you're going to expect." He tells me slowly and a little softly. A small silent pause fills the cabin as he looks over at me. "But I'm sure that you will get used to it." He nods slightly and waits. After a moment, nod back, understanding that it'll feel like home after about a week or so. "I'm here for you if you need anything, too. I know things feel a little different now but you'll get used to it." He turns his attention back to the road and moves into a turn lane, slowing down as we reach the intersection, his hand still on top of mine. "I am your old man, after all." He smirks over at me and gives a playful wink. The light turns green and he turns onto a much narrower, less busy street, a little something like what we have at home. Well, I guess it's just something like back in Texas now since this was my new home. We continue down the street in silence for a few moments before he signals and slows down. He places his hand back on the wheel, turning it as we turn down a small, unpainted street. I look out of the windshield, the headlights of the truck illuminating the street. I watch as a few houses roll by and I smile. There were a lot of trees in the yards, even though the yards themselves were pretty small. The houses were all very cozy looking as well, which surprised me. I thought all the houses would be nearly stacked on top of each other with no trees or yards to speak of at all but this is much nicer than what I thought. It even resembled a few neighborhoods in my old town as well. "This is where you live?" I ask, a little unsure if this was the street my new home was on or simply a cut-through to another road. I look at my dad's face, illuminated softly by the soft glow of the gauges in the truck. "No." He says simply, causing my heart to drop just a tad. He turns to me and smiles for a second before looking back ahead. "This is where we live." He reaches over with his free hand and grabs my shoulder without looking, giving it a reassuring squeeze and then a gentle, almost lingering rub. I smile as he does this and then feel his hand slide off my shoulder as he slows down and turns sharply into a narrow and short driveway. I see the two garage doors in the headlights as he pulls the truck to a stop, the driveway barely long enough to hold it in it's entirety. I press the button and roll down my window, a burst of cold air surprises me and it causes my shirt to ruffle a bit. I study the house, what I can see of it at least. The small yard had a few trees in it and several well manicured bushes. A small path leads up to the small front porch that is flanked by a set of bay-windows on either side of a large, wooden red front door that is softly illuminated by the porch light. "Well, it is what you thought it was going to be?" I hear my dad ask as I study the house. I can feel him looking at me from behind as I keep silent. I feel the engine shutter to a halt and then feel the same sensation as my dad places his hand on mine. I smile softly at the thought, still a little nervous but knowing that it is going to all be okay. "No." I tell him simply before turning and looking over at him, smiling warmly. "It's even better than what I thought."