This story is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in it are 18+ of age.
I kind of rushed this one a bit, so please tell me your honest opinions about how it turned out. It was supposed to be a bigger chapter, but I decided in the end to split them with this on being a warm up to the second. In other words, please look forward to a coming chapter of pure Dad/Son passionate sex!
As usual, I'm very happy to receive any and all feedbacks, whether it's about the writing or direction of the story, other works you wanna see, or just chat in general. Thank you for reading!
“But their eyes were weird! How come they were normal people?”
“Normal humans could have misleading signs, that’s why you’re better off checking everything if you can.”
My Dad and I were sitting on my bed with him between his legs and my arms around him. I had adjusted my desk to face the bed so we’d have a nice setup. The bed was still too small to fit us both comfortably, but sitting huddled up together like this made it possible. We were playing a demo for a new game, ‘No, I’m Not a Human’. It centers on the player sheltering away in his house during a solar apocalypse, and having to choose between letting people in or keeping them out in fear of them being ‘visitors’ - creatures that started appearing from underground during the apocalypse. It had a great aesthetic with the unique visual and pretty off-putting mood, so I thought it might be a fun experience to play it with Dad. Honestly, I thought too much about what to play with him. Big titles like Pokémon, Counter-Strike, or Tekken were just gonna bore him since he didn’t have much interest in those. In the end, I settled on the nice story-heavy movie-like demo, and it was the right choice. Dad found himself engrossed in the story and taking control of the game's decision-making quickly, much to my enjoyment.
It had been 2 weeks since we had our cozy bonfire. The experience was still quite fresh in my mind. Looking back on it, it was like an unofficial first date. I was glad we were able to do it, seeing as the week that followed wouldn’t give us much of a chance to hang out. Mom was over the moon about us bonding and becoming friends, but she was still in the dark about our true relationship, and neither of us wanted her to find out. But now that the door to our relationship was wide open, everything was coming out in torrents. One thing I discovered about Dad this week is that he had quite the pent-up sexual energy. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was finally expressing his own libido in our relationship or because of all this time being blue-balled by life, but his sex drive started splashing left and right.
It was quite evidently the honeymoon phase, with us fucking like rabbits every chance we got. Mom had work most days till around 2 or 3 p.m., which gave us enough time to rock the bed as much as we wanted. We opted for using my bed despite its smaller size since we didn’t wanna leave any accidental traces of our affair around the house, and while I didn’t say anything, I was still a bit icked by doing it in my parents' room. You’d think I’m being hypocritical since I’m literally sleeping with my Dad, but the fact that they had had their picture on the bedside table and their stuff scattered across the room, I was reminded of the dirty nature of our relationship. We were protected by our own little bubble that threatened to pop at any time when faced with the real world, but we ignored it in favor of our passion. It’s like when you’re watching a movie, and at one point, you know it’ll end, and you’ll have to come down from that high note, but you can’t tear your eyes away. Yeah, the apprehension for what we were doing was always on mind, and probably on Dad’s as well.
That said, all that guilt didn’t stop me one bit from taking Dad’s dick deep within my ass. For 19-year-old me, who had close to 0 romantic or sexual experience in my life, getting a taste of Dad’s love unleashed my appetite in ways I didn’t know were possible. For starters, I found myself constantly holding myself back from begging Dad to fuck me like a whiny bitch, which I imagine he could find hot, but I wasn’t that down bad… yet. It was the thrill of something new, something scary and exciting, like the first time you jerk off. The exhilaration and euphoria of your first times cumming can never be recaptured. So, I indulged. I allowed myself to get more slutty with Dad, to satisfy my cravings and to allow him to let loose as well.
Screaming louder in bed, biting his shoulder as he sank into me in missionary, licking and slurping and nursing at his dick while locking eyes together, swirling his cum in my mouth before swallowing. All the porn fantasies a horny young mind had were coming true. I was making them true. And with the man I love no less. If it weren’t for Dad being who he is, I don’t think I would’ve come as much as I did. His head-on love definitely gave me the courage to go for it, and I was eternally grateful for that.
That was the view on my side. For Dad, I was pretty sure he was getting just as comfortable in the relationship. I think my first indication was when I was riding him on my bed, and he slapped my ass pretty hard. It’s funny to think about, but it was probably the first aggressive gesture he ever made to me. Needless to say, I loved it. Feeling the hot sting on my cheek, I yelled out loud before smiling at Dad. He was always afraid to get rough with me, and this time was no exception. Despite the fact that he was the one who spanked me, his face held some anticipation and worry as he waited for my reaction. I moaned and told him to ‘give to me harder’, prompting him to smile and lay it down on my ass.
That fuck was so good, with Dad getting pretty into it, spanking and chastizing me. “Relax,” he said as he pinned me doggy-style and slapped my ass to ease himself in. It felt so good, satisfying me paternally and sexually. By the end of it, my cheeks were red and tingling all over. I wanted to play it off so he wouldn’t notice me wincing when I sat on it, but he did. His Dad side came out right away, saying he went too far, but I told him to stop it.
“If you wanna make it up to me,” I said, toying with his feelings, “you can just keep doing what you’re doing.”
He liked that. Guiding me with his hands on my hips, he sat on the bed with his back to the headboard and my ass in his face as I turned onto my stomach with my legs spreading on either side of him. I relaxed into my position as his hands kneaded my ass cheeks. It honestly felt like getting a massage as his hands squeezed and jiggled my ass. It wasn’t so big that I’d be proud of it or be able to bounce it or whatever, but Dad still had his fun with it, seemingly. His hands were so relaxing, I was almost tempted to close my eyes and nap after coming down from the highs of my orgasm earlier, until I felt his wet mouth. He started licking my ass all over and my drowsiness immediately turned to horniess, my dick stirring despite already having cum. Whatever nerves he was stimulating when he ran his tongue over my asshole and around my red ass, they were sending signals directly into my dick, making it strain between my body and the bed. Moaning heavily, I felt Dad give me rapid kisses and quick light bites as he cooled down my hurt ass cheeks with his mouth. It felt heavenly.
He must have enjoyed spanking me because he developed a habit of slapping my ass when he could. Whether I was coming out of the shower, or getting something from a lower drawer in the kitchen, or just passing him in the hall, I got used to jumping when feeling a surprise slap on my behind. He also got more vocal, calling me names like ‘baby’, ‘slut’, and ‘sweetheart’ in and out of bed, sometimes too close to Mom for my comfort. He joked about disguising it as him calling her those names if she ever noticed, to my annoyance. Those names, however, made my heart melt. They contained a type of love I couldn’t get enough of, and every time I heard him call me ‘sweetheart’ affectionately in his that warm honest tone of his, I was ready to just drop and suck him off right then and there. There was just this instinctual drive between us, an overlap of our unique Dad and Son bond and our sexual and romantic relationship, that neither of us knew how to explain.
So yeah, in conclusion, sex was great. Secretive and a bit cramped, but mind-blowing and deeply satisfying. But sex wasn’t all there is to it. No sir. Our relationship was built first and foremost on love. For every ‘high’ we reached as we fucked each other’s brains out, there was a ‘low’ of quite peaceful bliss we settled into. There was, of course, the post orgasmic cool down when we would lay in each other’s arms and talk about anything and everything, but those were simply the beginning. Soon, we started sharing our lives with each other.
We were afraid of hurting each other like before, so we took it one step at a time. Even though I was starting to open up to him, I was still an introvert at heart. I needed time in my room to recharge from time to time, and he, with our newfound understanding of each other, respected that. He even went further, actually asking if he could join me. I was hesitant at first, afraid he would disrupt the time I needed to relax, but he proved me wrong. If I wanted to spend some time on my computer, he would watch over me silently or sit on my bed and scroll through his Facebook or news feed.
For the first time in my life, I found someone whose presence didn’t make me feel like I needed to put on a front or act out some social scenario, and it was nice. At one point, I started talking to him about my hobbies, from video games to shows and the like. He listened, and although half the time he didn’t quite understand everything or care about it for that matter, he still listened. I found that very sweet of him.
On the other hand, I also indulged him and whatever project he proposed we do together. It started when he asked me to go around the neighborhood for a quick walk with him, ‘quick walk’ being tours around the neighborhood that ended up in long talks with whoever he passed. I agreed, but only on the condition that he release me if I ask him to.
We walked around the neighborhood that day and ended up running into almost everyone that we could possibly run into. Mrs. Gonzalez from next door was quite talkative about her life and kids and how she’s so happy to see me and Dad walking together, especially me, who she assumed was always sick because I never showed my face outside. She was sweet and overbearing, but we went through her barrage and continued on. Next was Hunter, an old friend of Dad’s who, funny enough, had a hunting hobby. He and Dad launched into this excited talk about hunting rifles and the latest updates and regulations regarding the nearby woods. I can’t say I cared much about the conversation, simply chiming in here and there with whatever gun trivia I knew about, but seeing Dad talking about something he likes was cute as hell. “I could stick around for a bit more,” I thought, ignoring the voice begging me to go home in my brain.
More and more people stopped us, or Dad stopped them sometimes, and although it was a slog to get through, I found myself enjoying watching Dad work his social magic. Would I be doing that anytime soon? Absolutely not. But I made a mental note about needing to work on my social life at least.
Other than that, I found myself enjoying other activities with my Dad more than I thought I would. We took long walks through the woods, which usually led to us kissing and making out like a pair of high schoolers behind the school. Most times, I ended up blowing him, and we even fucked on a soft spot of dirt once, but the other times were somehow more precious to me, being held by my Dad in the quite serenity, expressing the affection I couldn’t at home. I also found myself doing other projects with him, like checking his car, or gardening in the backyard, or cooking together, even.
My absolute favorite thing, though, was the late-night drives. Every 2 days or so, we would get in the car and drive around, sometimes close and sometimes far. We would get takeout, then drive to a place with a decent view before parking and eating there. I loved the quite discreet atmosphere of the night, and Dad loved seeing me excited like that. Albeit short, they were still precious quality time between us, giving us some more room to develop our relationship before we had to go back to the house.
This brings us back to today, with me and Dad sitting naked on the bed, him in my arms with his back to me, after he had fucked me thoroughly in missionary, both of us cumming while our mouths where joined in a passionate kiss. When we unlatched and I laid back in bed, his hand reached down to scoop of his cum and give me a taste before having a taste himself. He did the same with my load, which he jerked out of me during our fucking.
“Yeah, I still think yours is tastier.” He concluded like he was doing proper scientific research.
“You know, regardless of hot I find this, which is beyond your imagination, it still puzzles me how you go out of your way to taste our cum. Pretty weird for a supposedly straight guy.” I said, looking at him in amazement.
“What’s weird is I’m fucking my Son. Once you cross that line, I don’t think this is that big of a deal. Not that I see you complaining,” He countered.
“If I ever do, please know that I have been replaced by aliens.”
He laughed and lowered his head to kiss me gently, the slight saltiness from our cum lingering on his mouth and mine.
After we both relaxed a bit, I got up and turned on my computer, setting up the game he promised to try with me, and he ended up getting into it and taking the controls himself. I watched in amusement as he reacted explosively, a person experiencing the joy of gaming and losing yourself in a game for the first time.
“NO! Why did they take that guy? I already made sure he was human.” He almost threw the controls across the room.
“The selection is random. You should only accept the search if you’ve let in a lot of suspicious people into the house,” I answered while laughing at his reaction, absent-mindedly rubbing his cheeks and beard while he laid in my arms. His head was resting against my chest, and I was hugging him like a giant body pillow while he tried to focus on the game.
“That’s it, this game is shit,” he finally broke, throwing my controllers to the side of the bed.
“Baby’s first rage quit. How cute!” I thought to myself as I picked up the controllers and saved the game before exiting.
It was around 12:30 p.m., and the heat was high, but just enough as to not make the weather unbearable. We sat like that in silence for a while as I hugged and felt him up like a teddy bear while he relaxed into my embrace. The room was filled with the light streaming from the window and the sounds of some crows squawking outside.
“Are you happy?” He finally asked.
“Right now or in general?” I asked, wondering what he was thinking about.
“In general. Are you happy with our relationship?” He said, his eyes seemingly looking out the window, at something far away.
“If I weren’t, would I be holding you like this?” I leaned my face against the top of his head as I drew him in closer, feeling his thick, hairy body against mine, warm and powerful.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he started saying something else.
“I realize we’re both enjoying this relationship, and I cannot describe how happy I am to be able to be this close to you,” he launched into some sort of monologue. “I’m discovering things about myself I didn’t know after all this time and experiencing pleasures I didn’t think possible.”
“Feeling romantic, I see?” I remarked.
“Yes, I am,” he said in all seriousness, “I have never been in a relationship this relaxed and sensual before… not even with your Mom.” The last part came out with a bit of hesitation, but he still said it.
“But now, I’m starting to wonder if I’m doing the right thing. I know you say you’re enjoying this as much as me, but what if this isn’t what you want?”
“Pardon?” I raised my eyebrow, looking at the back of his head as he went on.
“Listen, John, you may be 19, but you’re still young. You should be out there with guys and girls your age, not your old man. Sure, I wouldn't trade the time I spent with you for anything, but I’m happy to let you go if that’s what you need. My life has passed its main stations and can now go at my own pace, but yours is only just beginning. Don’t you think it’s unfair to tie yourself to me?”
I let his words echo around for a bit before replying.
“You’re a handful, you know that?”
It was his turn to act confused.
“Pardon?”
You’d think I’d be fuming at his words right now, but at this point, I had gotten used to him always riding his own train of thought. His earnest attempt at always doing the right thing ends up locking him into some weird ideas that he never tries to question or take outside input on. Hell, this was what supposedly made him forget himself abroad for so long. It would have been a pain to deal with normally, but our new relationship meant he now actually listened to me. I took pride in that. It was further proof that what’s between us was just as important to me as it was to him.
“You get too into your own head, Dad,” I told him. “It’s sweet that you thought about it this way, but I assure you, you’re totally wrong there.”
“But-” he started to object, but I cut him off.
“First of all, as I already told you, I can be as social as I want. The reason I didn’t go out much or didn’t talk to a lot of people was because I didn’t want to, not because I couldn’t.”
“Still, it doesn’t mean it’s good to be that way all the time,” he said.
“On that, I agree. Thank you for helping me widen my boundaries a bit,” I gave him a kiss on top of his head, “but even assuming you and I quit doing it, that doesn’t mean things won’t return to how they were. I came out of my room for YOU. Not for Mom, not for the neighbors and their rumors, for you.”
He tilted his head back and looked at me as I went on, a smile forming on my lips.
“These feelings and needs that you awoke in me, you’re not going to take responsibility for them?” I teased him, “Get those silly ideas about my future out of your head. I love you and you love me, and that’s all that matters. I can take care of myself just fine, even if I adore you watching over me.”
His eyes shone, and he raised his head to meet mine. We shared a gentle kiss before he pulled away and continued.
“Can’t say I’m convinced, but you do make a good point. I just worry about you…” He said.
“Then how about we discuss it,” I said, an idea suddenly springing into my brain, “over a real date. not a late night drive or a morning fuck, but a real date. We’ll make a reservation at a very very far town from here, at a nice restaurant. We can go there on Saturday and sleep at a nice motel, then come back on Sunday. It’ll be a fun road trip as well as a proper date.”
Dad couldn’t hold back the smile forming on his face.
“I can’t say no to that, now, can I?”
We laughed, and he turned around to kiss me properly. Our lips were just about to touch when we suddenly heard the car pull into the garage.
“Is that your Mom??” He perked up.
“FUCK!” I yelled and jumped out of bed to get dressed and fix our mess.
Dad also got up, but he was more lax, picking his clothes and walking naked to my door.
“Put your clothes on before you leave,” I told him in a panicked tone.
“Relax, she’s not gonna teleport right into the house, and I don’t wanna get cum all over these clothes. But if you want, you can clean me up quickly with your cute mouth,” he smirked at me and wagged his thick dick in front of me.
“GO, YOU PERVERT!” I yelled at him, half-annoyed, half-smiling as the pillow I threw across the room hit him right in the face.
He picked it up and threw it back before finally leaving, making me exhale with relief. I couldn’t help but chuckle at his stupid stunts.
....................................................
The days leading up to our date were eventful, to say the least.
For starters, the wait was horrible. It felt like I was a school kid waiting for the school trip the next day, unable to sleep from excitement. The eagerness to experience such a romantic time with Dad was too attractive to put out of my mind. My mind kept imagining scenarios, then scrubbing them and making up new ones, then scrubbing those and making even wilder ones. I wonder if this was love sickness.
Dad seemed to be anticipating the weekend just like me, except his excitement showed itself in different ways. We were having dinner around the kitchen table with Mom that night, and we were making random conversation when I suddenly felt his hand on my thigh. My heart skipped a beat, but I managed to stay calm while Mom and I discussed how nosy Mrs. Gonzalez was.
“I mean, why does she need to know about how much I spent on my front lawn?” Mom said, exasperated.
“Yeah. Uh-hu,” I replied in an attempt to focus. I bet he was smirking at me right now, but I didn’t dare turn away from Mom.
“Imagine I asked her how much her Son paid for his wedding. She’d blow a fuse!”
I was trying to think of something to say when I felt Dad’s hand creep higher up my thigh and just grab at my crotch like a stress ball.
“YOU’REABSOLUTELYRIGHT!” I yelled and stood up immediately, slamming the table from below with my knees.
Mom was shocked and stared at me silently while I could’ve sworn Dad was fighting a fit of laughter.
“This damn moron,” I thought to myself as I turned around and left quickly, doing my best to hide my now stuff dick.
“John, where are you going?” Mom called from behind me in a worried voice.
“Bathroom,” I said, running there quickly.
That was one such instance, for which he paid dearly when I refused to let go of his head from between my lips after he came in my throat, causing him to thrash wildly, his hands almost pulling my hair out. He also showcased this behaviour, which I can only assume is his idea of foreplay, several other times. It mostly centered around touching me when Mom wasn’t looking, which was as hot as it was mortifying for me. I felt insane being the one to warn him about playing with fire, but he had such a handle on it that I got used to it in the end. I still objected though, because I knew the moment I start going with it, we’ll fuck up big time.
So to sum it up, we were both horny and very much anticipating our road trip. Dad told me about a cool motel he remembered two states over, saying he always wanted to stay at it once when he was younger. I looked it up for him and found out it was still open. The place seemed nice enough, so we decided to book a room for the night there.
This is where problems started to appear. A thought flashed in my head when I picked up the phone to call the place. “What if they traced the number back to us?”. I froze. We haven’t gotten so comfortable with each other, both sexually and emotionally, and Mom was so oblivious to us that I forgot just how taboo our relationship was. If, for any random reason, word got out that we were sleeping together… I shuddered just thinking about it. Both our lives would be ruined, to say the least.
I told Dad about my worries as we took one of our walks through the woods, and he simply said to use a payphone.
“But what if our credit card ends up giving us away?” I asked, still worried.
“One, the FBI isn’t after us, John. And two, we’ll only be as suspicious as you make us out to be. It’s like with your Mom, no one will assume anything if you don’t make it obvious.” He casually said.
“But the whole point of this is to have a normal date…” I muttered.
He stopped and squeezed my face. “Okay, if you’re so worried about it, we can just ask for a room once we get there. We can even pay in cash if you’d like.”
“You’ve thought about all this?” I asked, grabbing his hands and releasing my face.
“Obviously. It was only natural to plan these details out once we decided to go through with this,” He said.
I wondered if ‘this’ referred to our road trip or our relationship, but I didn’t ask. Instead, I fell silent while he observed me.
“Hey, is everything alright?” He asked, grabbing my chin and raising my face to meet his.
“Yeah,” I said in a bit of a dejected tone.
“Are you sure? It’s okay if you’re feeling uneasy.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. We can book online, I’ll do it.” I answered him.
Dad seemed like he wanted to press me more, but held himself back, for which I was grateful.
That night, I stared at my computer screen. My room was dark, and the only light was coming from the faint blue screen. I had attempted to book the room earlier, but got stuck on one of the first fields to fill.
[Name].
Initially, I was gonna write my own by force of habit, but then I reconsidered. We’re using Dad’s credit card, so I might as well use his name. Plus, it’ll be less suspicious and prevent any coincidences of someone noticing we’re Dad and Son. So, I wrote Dad's name into the text box.
[Joseph Sutton].
Hm. That’s weird. I sounded out the name myself. Joseph Sutton.
It quickly dawned on me. I don’t really use Dad’s name. In fact, I don’t remember calling him by his name before. The realization made me take a mental step backward. Dad was… well… my Dad. It was only natural that I call him as such. Then why did it feel so weird to think about now?
I could feel an invisible weight settle in my stomach. I thought about my Mom. Diane. I did call her by her name from time to time. It was a testament to how we viewed each other on equal footing. Time had molded our relationship into what I could best describe as camaraderie rather than a loving Mother and Child.
Of course, using my parents' name isn’t a sign of maturity or the nature of our relationship in and of itself. But now that I was thinking about this, I felt like I was lacking something. I had convinced myself that my relationship with Dad was one where both of us went all in. However, this discovery had made me reconsider. Dad was the one to initiate this whole ordeal, he’s the one who’s trying to look out for me while I’m trying to get my rocks off, he’s calm and collected and thinking about the little details while I’m paranoid about some unknown waiter in the middle of nowhere will look at us weird.
Joseph… I had a relationship with my Dad, but did I have one with the man called Joseph? What did I really know about him? Bits and pieces, that’s what. I had no idea about his life prior to now, aside from the details I heard so far. I doubt I could imagine even half what he went through abroad or what his childhood or adolescence were like.
Truth be told, I could say the same about him to some degree, considering the fact that our first meeting was after I had already turned 19. But that would’ve been okay with me if he were also around 19. Suddenly, I found myself sinking under the colossal weight of the situation. I was in a relationship with my Dad. I was sleeping with my Dad. I was fucking a 50 something year old guy who’s sperm gave birth to me.
I felt myself getting lightheaded, the weight in my stomach getting heavier. I sat on my bed, completely abandoning the booking, and hugged my knees close to my body as I curled up and tried to calm down. So many thoughts were pushing and shoving around my head. I felt heavy and cold.
Joseph. I want to call him that.
The moment I thought that, the door to my room swung open, and in came my Dad, Joseph. His energetic entry stopped when he saw me, losing thought of whatever he planned on telling me.
“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?” He said, his tone quiet and careful.
He had started calling me baby in private and in front of Mom. She thought it was weird at first, but I acted embarrassed in front of her even though it made my heart flutter, so she didn’t think much beyond it being one of Dad’s antics.
I had to take a deep breath before speaking lest all my emotions come gushing out. I blinked hard, then replied to him.
“Nothing… Dad,” I hesitated every so slightly on the word.
“Hey, come on. You think your old man was born yesterday?” He said with a comforting laugh as he sat next to me.
He was saying all the things I wanted him to say, doing all the things I wanted him to do, yet I felt ugly and pathetic. I was his Son, but I didn’t want to feel like his kid. Even if he meant nothing but the best for me.
“Honestly, Dad, it’s nothing. Just a low-energy day,” I managed to say.
He was understandably unconvinced, especially since I didn’t look him in the eye or try to hug and kiss him now that he’s on my bed. I felt his arm around my shoulders as he squeezed hard and pulled me closer to his embrace, hugging me tightly.
“Alright then, guess I’ll share some energy with you,” he whispered into my ear.
I couldn’t help it. I was weak. I grabbed onto him and buried my face in his chest, breathing deeply and inhaling his manly scent in a desperate attempt at comfort. We stayed like that for a while, neither of us uttering a single word. I let go first, feeling the ugly emotion in me bubble up again.
“Really, it’s okay, Dad, thank you. I think I just need to go to bed early today,” I said, kissing him on the cheek.
“Well… alright, you do that and get better. But I have to give you something before you do.”
I was about to ask what it was when I felt his face close in on me, his mouth latching onto the area between my neck and shoulder while his hand pulled my t-shirt aside.
“Da-DAD!” I was taken by surprise when I felt his mouth apply pressure. The door was unlocked, and Mom could walk in any second! What was he thinking?
“Dad? Dad! Hey, stop, not here!” I managed to push him off.
I expected him to call me a buzz killer or something like that, but he was smiling and wiping his lips. I looked on, puzzled, then looked down and realized what he did. That man has just given me a hickey.
“Are you out of your mind??” I was baffled. What exactly was he thinking, if he was thinking at all?
“Relax, baby. It’ll fade by tomorrow,” he winked at me, “and if it doesn’t, you’ll figure something out.”
He laughed at his own comedy before getting up and leaving. Has he gone insane? My God.
I was plenty tired at that point, so I laid back in bed and fell asleep almost immediately, the worries of today going under, if just for the night.
....................................................
When I woke up, I didn’t want to open my eyes right away. I was sprawled out on my bed, my body aching from the awkward sleep I had had. I wiped a bit of drool from my chin as I sat up in bed. The convoluted thoughts from last night came flooding in, and I had to hold my head. Barely regaining my senses, Mom popped in through my door.
“Good Morning, John,” she said while sifting through her purse, “Breakfast’s on the table. Your Dad went for a quick walk. He didn’t wake you up because he said you seemed tired. I’m off to work now.”
Delivering her rapid-fire words, she was going to leave right away when I called out to her.
“Mom, wait!”
She turned around, now looking at me instead of her purse.
“What’s up, honey?”
“Can we talk for a bit before you go?”
She was clearly taken aback by the sudden request, but nodded.
“Sure thing.” She said as she sat down on the bed beside me.
Her eyes were locked onto me, and hr whole body was understandably perked up. I think I can count on one hand the number of times I asked for her help, so she was visibly intrigued.
I gulped and realized I probably came on too quickly, but there was nothing to do now, so I took the plunge.
“How was- What was Dad like when you two got married?” I asked, feeling my whole face rise in heat with each word from the embarrassment.
Mom seemed too stunned to speak for a moment before leaning back and letting out a hearty laugh.
“HEY!” I snapped, my face now light red.
“No, no! I’m sorry, I just never expected you, of all people, to ask me that question,” she said as she wiped away her tears and steadied her breath.
“Why do you want to know?” she finally said, her eyes regaining their usual clear calm.
“I was thinking about some things yesterday, about me and our family, and I realized I want to know more about you guys.” I came up with something on the spot, which was half true technically.
“You mean you want to know more about your Dad?” She saw right through my flimsy lie.
“What?” I tried and failed to act confused.
“I swear, you probably think we're fools, don’t you, John?” she teased me. “You were so self-sufficient as a kid, I guess you never bothered to see further than your own space. It’s clear to anyone with a pair of eyes that you two were getting closer all this time.”
I felt a cold wave run through me as I feared what her next words would be.
“I can imagine your excitement. Having your Dad this close and this doting after all this time must’ve made you so happy. You guys had a ton of Dad and Son bonding to catch up on.”
Phew. Her eyes contained nothing but cheer as she imagined sunny crayon drawings of my time with Dad instead of HD porn movies.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s it,” I managed to mutter as I felt my body deflating from the scare.
She laughed again. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him about your little inquiry,” she said. “Hmmm… what was he like?”
She thought about it for a second before she answered, “More free.”
“How so?”
“Well, we were seeing each other in college, and he was still in his final year while I was a freshman,” she started recounting days gone by, “we both enjoyed each other a lot back then. No matter how much you complain about your Dad being a social menace now, he was ten times worse then.”
“I find it hard to imagine such a mythical creature,” I replied sarcastically.
“Cute, but it doesn’t change the facts. We saw each other 4-5 times a week, but he still managed to go to so many parties and trips that I was honestly perplexed, and a bit annoyed.”
She smiled, reminiscing over the past.
“Did you guys… love each other?” I asked hesitantly.
She looked at me again.
“Of course, silly!” she answered, “what makes you say that?”
“Well, it’s just that…” I chose my words carefully, “Why was he away for so long then?”
“Oh, John.“ Her tone was wistful. ”What did he tell you?“
“Nothing,” I said with a quiet tone, “just that he had to leave. He said he won’t tell if you don’t want to.”
“I see,” her eyes bore into mine, “well, it’s not the big mystery you seem to be expecting.”
“Hit me.” I stared back at her.
She seemed to mull it over before deciding.
“I will say that, yes, it was about my pregnancy with you,” she spoke calmly, “at the time, I was scared and terrified of my life being ruined. I blew up in his face and made him feel like it was all his fault. That made him decide to take the first job that came his way to start providing for me, it just happened to be all the way across the globe.”
She paused for a second.
“Gee, you’re making me go way way back. But yeah, that’s how his job started. As for me, I felt really guilty about my actions right after he was out of the country, but it was too late by then. Even if I had grown happy to have you after my initial panic, I was still in the wrong to throw such a fit. No matter how much I asked him to come back, he was set on doing that.”
The quick summary of the most important time in Dad’s life was being fed to me too quickly to sink in properly.
“Hold on. Hold on.” I waved my hand at her, “You mean he stayed there all this time, right out of college?”
“Pretty much,” she said with a sad tone. “I really tried to get him back, you know. But things were never fully the same between us. We were accomplices more than partners, striving towards the same goal of raising you with different methods. It wasn’t until you finished high school that something inside him changed. Maybe a biological clock of some sort? He suddenly couldn’t wait to come back and see you. And thank God he did. You guys seem to be having the time of your lives,” she finished her story on a happy note.
I couldn’t look at her properly when the fun she’s so happy we’ve been having would've probably sent her screaming. I don’t remember what I told her then, but she seemed to feel as if we had completed a great bonding session. She hugged me, then got up and left with a smile. I was in such a blur that I didn’t even notice that I was now alone.
Rearranging my thoughts, I realized just how much information I've been lacking about Dad. My God, the weight of his past nearly crushed me now that I fully grasped it. This man, this stubborn, honest man, went out into the world because of the responsibility he felt for his child and wife, spent 18 years in solitude for them, then came back only to get saddled with another relationship with his own Son, the reason for all his suffering.
What the hell was I doing? I found myself asking this question over and over as I curled up on my bed. I wanted to throw up, but I couldn’t. There was that cold weight in my guts again, pulling my mood down with it. I wanted more than anything to seek the comfort of my Dad’s arms right now, to lose myself in the passion between us, but I couldn’t. Trying to do anything with him right now might prove too much for me to handle.
I stayed like that all day until the sun went down. It was then that my Dad would finally come to check on me, and he made it quite clear he wasn’t having any of this.
“Yesterday, you said you were just low on energy. Today, it’s very obvious that something is wrong,” he boomed from my door as I turned away from him in bed. I wanted him to leave, to not look after me anymore.
“You know, if our relationship taught me anything,” my body tensed up at his words that threatened to expose us should my Mom hear them, “it’s that you’re one stubborn motherfucker.”
“Like father, like son,” I muttered under my breath, but he went on without hearing me.
“And the only way to deal with you when you get like that is to be more stubborn,” He proclaimed loudly as he advanced towards me.
“That’s what made us hate each other in the first place, you dumbass,” the explosive reaction slipped from me as I turned and sat up in bed to stare at him, only to find him smiling at me.
“Got you,” he said calmly.
I couldn’t take seeing his happy face upon seeing me, and laid on my back and covered my face with my hands.
“Please… just go away…” I pleaded weakly.
“Not until you explain why you’ve been sulking since yesterday,” he declared firmly, “your Mom also told me you asked her about our marriage? Is there something going on that I don’t know about?”
I shook my head.
“Then what’s wrong, baby? Please tell me!” His voice was soft and loving, and I couldn’t handle it. He was leaning in so close, his heavy hand gently patting my stomach. I let my arms dangle to my sides before spilling what I’ve been holding on to up till now.
“Joseph.” I simply said
“Huh?” he emitted a confused noise.
“That’s your name,” I told him.
“Yes?” He answered in a questioning tone.
“Yet I don’t use it,”
“Not really, no,”
“Don’t you find anything strange about that?” I asked him.
He seemed so confused at that moment that his hand paused from patting my stomach.
“Is this some young relationship norm I’m not familiar with?” He asked honestly.
“NO!” I yelled back higher than I wanted. “It’s a normal relationship norm you should be familiar with. How come I don't call you by your name?”
His confusion only increased when he heard what I said.
“John, baby, I don’t understand what you’re saying. Please, explain it to me.”
“It’s just that…”
Before I knew it, it was all spilling out of me. My grievances about feeling like a kid in the relationship, and how I wanted to feel on more equal footing with him, my freakout about the reservation name, and my guilt over his long trip. Dad listened closely, his eyes never leaving me, never uttering a word the entire time. He remained still beside me as I gushed on and on, letting all the heavy weight building up in me out, bit by bit.
When I was done, I wanted to cover my face again in shame and embarrassment, but I also needed to hear his answer, so I looked at him with anticipation. Dad had a serene look on his face. One that I haven’t seen before. He looked at me intently before finally speaking up.
“You’re an idiot,” he said.
“HUH?” I was surprised. What brought that on?
“Talk about being in your own head. This is the same stuff you accuse me of doing all the time!” His voice got louder, and I shrank back in bed, suddenly feeling more anxious than I ever felt. I wanted to be anywhere else right now, just somewhere where this conversation wasn’t happening.
“That’s not-” I tried to object, but he cut me off.
“For starters, who do you think you are to dictate what road my life takes? You weren’t even born when all this took place. Unless you think you were some magical fetus?”
“I don’t-”
“Listen to me first! Your birth may not have been expected, but it sure as hell was welcomed. At least by me. Yes, I stayed away. Yes, that was a mistake. But it wasn’t your fault.”
“Stop,” I said weakly, trying to shy away from his words. Such a convenient truth couldn’t possibly exist.
“No, I won’t. I was so happy when I knew I was going to be a dad, I jumped at the first opportunity to support Diane and make sure our family didn’t fall apart. It might have been rash, but it pacified her at the time, and it surprisingly suited me well.”
It was like all my fears were unfounded. He was cutting through my dark thoughts so easily, his words heavy with emotions.
“You’re a colossal moron if you think you’re the culprit here. You’re my Son, and I love you. And this relationship can’t even feel like a burden to me, not when it’s making me this happy.”
“You can’t possibly be this happy to get burdened by me again,” the echoing thoughts in mind leaked out in a weak voice.
“And you possibly know how I feel. You can’t possibly know how exhilarating it is to see your Son jump up with happiness at the sight of you. How fulfilling it is to hear him thanking you for giving him what he wants. How fucking sweet it is when you insist on making our relationship into a proper one. How could anyone not be happy with that?”
His eyes were wide and agitated.
“So I’m not… a burden?” Tears were starting to form in my eyes.
“Sweetheart, listen to yourself. How could my lovely Son ever be a burden? It’s impossible to have what we have with someone else. You’re the best relationship I've ever had!” He was now beaming with joy. “It was my decision to pursue this as much as it was yours. If you’re a burden, then I’m just as much!”
“But you’re not Dad!” I shook my head vigorously.
“Then why can’t you see that’s how I see it as well?” He said, brushing the tears from my face.
“Dad!” I cried out, tears streaming down my face as I lunged into him and buried my face in his shirt. He held me tightly, squeezing hard as my body convulsed from my hiccups and tears. I held onto his arms with a death grip as I bawled my eyes out on his chest. All of a sudden, I felt his hands tighten around me as he lifted me in a princess carry while I held onto his chest.
He walked over to the door, locked it, then proceeded to go back and lay me down on the bed before laying next to me. I tried to stop crying, but once the tears started, it was hard to stop them.
It took about half an hour, but eventually, I calmed down. I breathed heavily still into Dad’s shirt, which was now covered in ears and a bit of snot. My face also had dried tears all over it.
But I felt much lighter. The knot in my stomach had dissolved, and I was feeling lighter than I ever had in so long. I looked up at Dad, hints of sadness still on my face.
“Are you feeling better now?” He asked while his hand patted my head.
“Much, much better,” I sighed, “I’m sorry I’m so pathetic,”
“Enough of that ‘sorry’ nonsense,” He said firmly, “How about a ‘thank you’ instead. Much more cheerful.” He laughed at his own suggestion.
“You’re right. Thank you, Dad. I love you,” I whispered those least words as I pulled myself up to kiss him.
“I love you, too, John,” he kissed me back, as passionate as the day we first made love, and there was no room for doubt about the nature of our relationship. We were lovers as much as we were Dad and Son. It was sick and twisted and horribly immoral, but it was true. And most importantly, we loved it.
“That said,” I interrupted our kiss, pulling away and regaining some of my focus, “I still want to call you by your name!”
“You can do that whenever you want,” Dad reassured me.
“No, not just that. I want to call you by your name, and act as proper boyfriends. I want us to have a real, honest date on our road trip like any normal couple would. I wanna see how much we can take our relationship further!” I vented my thoughts to him.
He had a dumb smile on his face. “That’s my baby,” he said proudly, “I’d be honored to go on a real, honest date with you on our road trip like any normal couple would.”
“And no ‘Dad’ or ‘Son’ calling in public. We’ll be Joseph and John. Just two guys in love with a bit of an age difference!” I pushed my point further, and Dad was happy to oblige.
“Yes, just two guys in love,” he said, kissing me again.
The road trip was shaping up to be a monumental step in our relationship. I could practically feel my heart and his beat up a storm against each other as we cuddled in each other’s arms, planning our date that would drive our relationship into its next stage.
