I Will Bear with You Forever

Peter Lovegood returns home after two weeks of being away. It might not be a long time for most people, but it is for him and his father/lover - Henry Lovegood. Their reunion is sure to be filled with a lot of love.

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Cub Back Home

Peter was getting off the train, his luggage in hand. Despite being away for almost two weeks, he had only taken one suitcase with him. Taking a breath of fresh air, he could immediately tell - he was home. The train station was small as the town was quite rural. Yet this helped with the air quality - there was no smog, no smoke, nothing but fresh air. The rustic and in some spots derelict station was right beside the forest, which was verdant at this time of the year. Lost in thought, Peter walked towards the station exit at a leisurely pace, enjoying the slow feel his home brought with it. That is when he felt a warm body firmly attach to his.

It was so fast, he couldn't even react. Two bulking arms wrapped around his chest, as a man's pecs pressed against his back. A rough jungle of facial hair was planted firmly onto the right side of his neck and he could feel hot breath waft past his ear. All of this became familiar in a split second - he knew exactly who this was. And the scent of an expensive cologne - a mix of sandalwood, oak and saffron - only helped jog his memory.

"Welcome home, sonny," Henry said, pressing his torso closer against his son's back, "I've missed ya."

"I've only been away for barely two weeks, pa," Peter said with a smile growing on his lips. Despite what he said, he was happy to see his dad welcome him in such a manner.

"Sonny, please, ya know how I get when yer away for even a day. Two weeks is a nightmare," he said, releasing his son from his steel embrace and his hand reached for the suitcase instead, "I'mma take this, thanks."

"Pa, c'mon now, I can carry that perfectly fine on my own," Despite the content of the sentence, the annoyance seemed to only be in the words, as his voice carried no other feeling than joy.

"Well, then I'll be able to carry it perfectly fine as well," Henry said yanking the case out of his son's hands, "Thank ya again, now come on."

Before Peter could get another word in, his dad was already briskly strutting away towards the exit. Only now could Peter see his entire get-up. A fancy dress shirt with trousers that fit the aesthetic. Along with it was the cologne his dad described to be "only for special occasions" and hair styled to be sleek compared to its usual messy state. One would think Henry was getting ready for a wedding or other formal occasion... were it not for the shoes. The shoes weren't dirty or broken or anything, but they were very clearly suited for the outdoors. Peter wasn't sure his dad even owned formal footwear. Ignoring that, he knew his dad was planning something. He wasn't sure if he would like the surprise that was coming his way, but he'd certainly try for his father's sake.

Catching up quickly with his dad, they walked alongside each other. Despite the excitement both of them were feeling, no words were exchanged, as they basked in simply being with one another again. Occasionally they could feel their hands brush against each other as they walked - something that made them grin a bit. The time they spent apart wasn't too big, but they certainly perceived it as torturous.

Both of them, without any sign to the other, had slowly sped up their walking pace into what was almost a run. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, the luggage was safely stowed away in the trunk of the car and both men were comfortably seated on the worn, but homely covers. Henry turned his face towards his returning son, pure joy written all over it.

"I'd like to get home as soon as possible, if ya don't have any other plans that'd get in the way, 'f course," Henry said, with a certain pushiness mixed with a tinge of anxiety coating his words.

"Nah pa, I wouldn't've scheduled something for the day I return back. Y'know how tired I get from travelling," Peter said while stretching his body out, as if to emphasize his point.

Henry's eyes couldn't help but instantly roam over the stretched body. Clothes so disheveled they left a few spots of skin visible to the pervy eye. And oh boy were his eyes pervy. He didn't have to watch the road until the car was turned on, so he made sure to use every second until then to inspect his returning lover. Yes, they may not have been apart for too long, but with how close the two of them were, can anyone really blame them for taking it this seriously?

"Honeybuns, ya need to start the car if we're to get home today," Peter said with a smirk on his lips.

Henry flushed slightly at the remark, as he had been busted for staring, but it was quite clear Peter did not mind. There was little Henry could do at this point that would have made Peter creeped out, to be honest - after all, they've been an item for quite some time. With reddish cheeks and a warm smile on his lips, he turned the key to start the engine. Its purr only got him more excited.

The drive to their shared home wasn't too long, but it certainly felt like ages to Henry. The reason? Peter was inspecting him very closely. Now, he couldn't exactly stare back, as he had to keep his eyes on the road, but from his peripheral he saw the intense way his son was scrutinizing him. And unbeknownst to Henry, Peter had a lot to look at. Not only did he enjoy to see his dad in the flesh again, but slight concern brewed in him as he peered at him closely. He had a toothpaste blot on his shirt; the bags under his eyes were colossal, especially when compared to the tired tiny slits his eyes seemed to have become over Peter's two week absence; his beard had some leftover bread crumbs in it from what Peter assumed was breakfast; and so on.

Henry found his son's staring quite disrupting and decided to speak up.

"While I appreciate yar staring, could it please wait 'till we get home? I don't think I can keep my eyes on the road if ya keep looking at me like that, and I'd rather not cause a crash, especially with ya involved, thank ya very much."

Peter snapped out of his semi-trance before nodding, looking at his surroundings instead. But what he had seen still bothered him, and he sure as hell wasn't about to let it go.

The ride itself proceeded without a hitch. Soon Henry was parking their car into their garage, which was situated as a separate building next to their house. It was a small place, but very comfortable and homey - not to mention the giant yard that came with it. And Peter loved seeing it again after he had been away. Arguably not for long, but still too long for him. Henry was just as excited, as was evident on the speed with which he exited the car and opened the trunk, grabbing the baggage before slamming the trunk close again.

"C'mon, move that ass of yars. I wanna lock the car."

There was no actual haste in Henry's voice, but Peter really appreciated hearing his dad again like this. Not just through the phone, for a couple of minutes each day, but live, booming, with that specific twang only Henry seemed to be able to muster. It really did feel good to be home.

As he exited the car, Henry was already prepared, holding the keys in his hand, pressing the "Lock" button as soon as the door was closed. With a spring in his step, he trotted off to the front door, replacing the car keys with the house keys which he laboriously fished out of his pocket. His son was always only a few steps away - matching his pace and walking straight behind him.

The front door opened to the hallway both men knew too well, and the suitcase was promptly set onto the wooden flooring. Peter closed the oaken door behind the two of them. As soon as it clicked shut, he was swept up into another powerful bear hug. This time, a lot closer and a lot tighter.

"It feels good to have ya back, sonny."

"Pa, once again, it's been like two weeks. I missed ya too, but it really ain't that terrible."

Peter chuckled slightly as he turned around with great effort, wiggling while constricted by two giant hairy arms. He put his own arms around his father's body as well, pulling the two of them even closer. His head was on his dad's shoulder and vice versa. He could smell sweat over the cologne now - how he had missed it.

Neither of them seemed to be in any rush to break the embrace, but the younger of them eventually (after a good minute or two of silence) did pull away a bit, at which point Henry let his arms fall too. They proceeded to stare into each other's eyes now.

Seeing Henry's eyes up close like this made them seem even more exhausted. The pupils were quite dilated, the lids creeping into the eyes, as if struggling not to shut them.

"Pa, ya alright? I don't mean to be rude, cross my heart, but ya look like shit."

The only response he got was a slight smile with closed eyes. That was before his dad grabbed his head by the hair and gently pulled his son's face towards his own. Henry's lips hovered above Peter's, he was hesitant to close the gap, leaving the decision up to his lover whether he wanted to reciprocate or not. Oh, and how he did. Peter only left the unspoken question linger for a second or two before bridging the gap speedily and powerfully - slamming his own lips against his dad's. Yet the proceeding kiss was quite gentle. They slowly enjoyed the warmth of each others breaths, letting their tongues lazily mingle with one another, neither pushing too deep or too forcefully. Their beards scraped against each other in a satisfying scratchy feeling as their hands found the way into their hair, gently tugging and pulling at it, while also pushing their heads even closer together. Only once every thirty seconds or so did they briefly pull apart to catch air before diving into each other's lips again.

This went on for a few minutes, before they seemingly telepathically agreed that it was enough. They pulled away slowly, longingly, before standing face to face with each other again. This time, Henry spoke up.

"I missed ya, hun. My kisser missed ya too."

"Don'tcha worry, I ain't going away again anytime soon, honeybuns. But why don't we get back to my question, hm? Why do ya look like shit? Are ya sick?"

Peter was speaking with a relatively lax tone, his voice chipper and boomy, yet Henry knew that ultimately, there was concern behind these words, and he felt bad for making his son worry.

"Nah, I just can't sleep without ya, but ya already knew that. I toss and turn in bed each night, struggling to fall asleep, and I wake early, patting at yar side of the bed, but ya ain't there. No worries, though, I do still get some shut-eye. Just not as much as I'd like."

Henry's brows lowered, his eyes sheepish, the crease between them looking pronounced. His lips turned upwards in a half-hearted attempt at an apologetic smile, but what he said was not new information to Peter. More like a frustrating quirk of Henry's. The reaction was of the same vein - a short sigh, followed by a mimicry of Henry's facial expression.

"What am I to do with ya, old man," Peter said calmly, followed by him grabbing his dad's hand, "So how about we get some shut-eye now then, hm? It may be early in the evening, but I could use some sleep too, truth be told."

Henry, however, in a quick and fluid motion started walking towards the dining room, pulling Peter with him by their joined hands.

"While that sounds lovely, I actually have one more thing I need to do. And I need ya to do it with me, hun."

Peter's eyes opened wide as his eyebrows rose in surprise, yet said nothing and followed his dad without resistance. As the door to the dining room (which also doubled as a kitchen) opened, he saw quite a romantic sight - the table had been set with two plates, both accompanied with matching cutlery, a single white candle standing tall and proud in the middle, placed in an ornamental brass candle stand - all of this sat upon red table cloth which was draped over the wood in an orderly fashion. For the second time in a minute Peter's face took on the expression of surprise.

Henry only chuckled at his son's lack of response, "Surprise! Yar old man may be old school, but that doesn't make me try any less, I assure ya. Now siddown."

Peter stood at the door for a while, before finally deciding to move and seating his behind on the chair which Henry had gallantly pulled out for him. As soon as he was sat, Henry went over to the kitchen area and pulled out a casserole from the oven. It smelt of a variety of things, but primarily of a delicious and home-made meal. As soon as he put it onto the table, he grabbed a match box from a nearby counter and carefully lit the candle, before throwing the match into the sink, gently tossing the matchbox at the nearest counter and seating himself across of Peter.

"Feel free to serve yaself as much as ya'd like, hun. I made extra just in case ya come home hungry like a bear," Henry said with a happy boom, putting some of the casserole onto his own plate as well.

Peter did go trough the motions of putting food on his plate and slowly starting to shovel it into his stomach, but his mind was elsewhere. He felt both abashed at such an unexpected romantic gesture, yet also melting at how sweet this all was. The entirety of the dinner itself happened in complete silence if not for the clacking of utensils on their plates. Henry promptly got up as they finished eating and took both of their plates and cutlery before unceremoniously dumping it into the sink. While he was at it, he stored the rest of the uneaten casserole dish into the fridge. At that point, Peter had also stood up and blown out the candle. The two of them just sort of stood there, unsure of what to do next.

"So... wanna go to sleep now? Or did ya have something else planned?" Peter asked.

"Nah, we can go. I'll admit, I nearly dozed off a few times while eating," Henry said, laughing, "What can I say, having you here again is making me wanna make up on all that missed sleep."

While moving out of the dining room and walking up the stairs into the bathroom, they had started undressing as well - unbuttoning their shirts, loosening their belts, unzipping their pants. By the time they entered the room, they were ready to take it all off in one fell swoop. Only their underwear and undershirt remained. They put them into the clothes hamper before looking at the shower.

"Say, would ya mind if I shower in the morning? I feel like I'mma keel over if hot water hits me at this point," Henry said followed by a yawn.

"Nah, I'm fine with just brushing and then hitting the hay. The train tired me out 's well."

"So ya won't mind sleeping next to a stinking heap?" Henry teased.

"Will I mind? Oh, I'll enjoy it. It's been a whole two weeks since I last saw ya, pops, ain't anything I mind about ya right now, trust me."

The only response was a short laugh, before the two grabbed their respective toothbrushes. Sure, brushing one's teeth is quite a normal part of a person's routine, but the two of them relished in being able to do mundane things with one another again. But Peter wasn't just brushing, he was also thinking. Quite deeply, at that, considering he was running his brush over one tooth for a good minute now. The confused look from his lover snapped him out of it temporarily and he quickly finished up.

As Henry walked in front of Peter on the way to their bedroom, the latter decided to finally speak up.

"So, pops, tell me, what's with ya today?"

"Whatd'ya mean?"

"Y'know, the suit... the dinner... all of that."

"I just wanted to surprise ya. Treat ya to something nice. We can't really go out on a date as a couple, can we now, so I guess I just wanted to make ya feel special for a bit."

Henry followed his response with a slight shrug, keeping his hand on the bedroom door handle this entire conversation. But Peter still wasn't convinced completely.

"While I know yer a sweetheart, honeybuns, loads of my chums only treat their ladies to s'methin' like this if they wanna apologize or if they wanna smash. Ya sure ya ain't wanna do neither?"

Flustered by this response and a bit offended too, Henry could only reply: "Peter! I'd hope we're close enough at this point to not need a suit and dinner to 'fess up if we'd wanna apologize. And I wouldn't use them for making ya do the deed with me, either. Who do ya think I am?"

"Aww, pops, ya know I ain't mean to insult ya. But we ain't done something like this before, so I got quite curious. Sorry if I got ya mad, I didn't mean to, honeybuns."

Henry immediately smiled, alleviating any worry from Peter's mind: "Don't worry, hun. I ain't mad. But it still hurt me a bit that ya'd think I'd be that ungentlemanly."

"Then want me to make it up to ya?"

Silence. The other man was not sure how to respond to that. He was pretty tired, and so was his other half after travelling - but if he was up to it, maybe it was okay? Though what if he had overheard Peter and misunderstood him? Henry was pretty sure he knew where Peter was going with this, but just to be safe, he asked.

"What do ya mean by that?"

"Well, I don't wanna seem ungrateful. So I thought I could give ya a blowie, hm? Whatd'ya say? Both as a 'thank ya' and as a 'I'm home again' gesture."

"Ya know I don't mind, but... aren't ya tired? Ya sure yer up for this? And I'm not sure I'mma be able to return the favor today, hun."

Peter quickly crossed the distance towards Henry and tugged at the waistband of his dad's boxers, his eyes, resisting the urge to gaze downwards, remained glued to the other pair.

"Ya think I mind?"

Not another move was made. The younger man was waiting for a response, any form of affirmation from his partner. The waistband remained strained by a finger, letting the skin underneath breathe, the cool air rousing the sensitive areas. Henry chewed on his lip, before slowly nodding, cheeks slightly reddened at the situation. This may not be a new scenario, but he never managed to get quite used to it.

Yet that small gesture was expressive enough for Peter. With no hesitation, he pulled the underwear he had been holding down in one swift motion. Henry had to awkwardly shuffle his legs to get to the bed - to which Peter was pushing him quite eagerly. He had nearly tripped over his underwear a few times, but eventually made it there unharmed. Suddenly - a push. The older man found himself tumbling backwards before landing on the bed with his back. Everything but for one arm and leg were comfortably resting on the mattress, as his son wasted no time kneeling on the wooden flooring as he wormed his head in-between the hairy thighs so deliciously presented to him. Henry's entire body was covered in wiry, thick and dense black body hair. His pits, ass and crotch were the densest jungle. Yet Peter loved them so much - they carried Harry's aroma and taste in rich amounts, allowing for a true feast for the senses.

He started by kissing the fur-covered flesh presented to him, the thick layers of muscle and fat pulsating as Henry's body reacted to the soft lips plucking at his skin. His nose was filled with an earthy, masculine scent - sweaty and strong. The kissing slowly turned into licking, before his hands, which had deftly slipped under the undershirt, travelled over Henry's bulging belly, groping at the supple beef. Yet his digits travelled further, eventually massaging the two round man tits protruding from Henry's torso. Fingers slowly started circling the pinkish nipples hidden in the black hair forest.

All that could be heard in the Lovegood house was Henry's subtle moans and groans mixed with the sounds of licking and slurping from between his legs. Peter's beard scratched Henry's legs as he moved his head upwards, his nose residing in the crease between a massive scrotum and a now-erect member. He first sucked a bit on the sensitive wrinkly nutsack so lasciviously presented to him - the fat testicles were brimming with potent seed, which he liked drinking so much, especially since he was sure Henry did not jerk off even once since he went away.

The moans became louder and breathier, but this was not where Peter would end. Slowly switching from one half to the other, both nuts got equal attention, sometimes being completely enveloped by the younger one's wet mouth. Releasing the skin from his mouth with a loud plop, he moved upwards to the main course. Henry was not the most well endowed in the length department, measuring about 5 and a half inches, but his girth was quite phenomenal - even after years of practice Peter still had trouble taking it into his mouth properly and his jaw gets very sore afterwards.

But today, he was driven by a strong force - two weeks of not sleeping with his lover. He slowly licked the shaft from the base to the tip, relishing in the taste and the groan he received as payment. Without hesitation, as he got to the slit, he opened his jaw as wide as he could before descending down onto the dick. Yet it would seem he overestimated his capabilities a bit, as he only got it halfway in before having to retract with a gag.

"Ya okay?" Henry asked, his voice still drunk with arousal, but slightly sobered from concern.

"Yah, just... ain't done this in a while. Gimme a sec."

Only replying with a curt nod, Henry let his head rest again, reclining it on the pillow. Peter - meanwhile - tried again, this time a bit more slowly, but still with the same vigor as before. He slowly enveloped the head, letting himself breathe thought his nose, feeling the nice stretch of his mouth. It tasted just as delicious as the rest of the cock. Going at it slowly proved a lot more effective, but still just as pleasant - for both of them.

The descent over the shaft may have been at a snail's pace, but nevertheless was it immensely pleasurable. Were Peter not as preoccupied with the thickness in his mouth, it is quite possible he would've heard the multitude of moans Henry let out - first quiet, then louder, before going very breathy. Two weeks of abstinence made the older one quite desperate. But his son was just as eager to finally be doing this again.

Thankfully, the average length of Henry's made it easy to take to the base once a proper pace was established. Peter's nose was buried deep in the forest of pubes growing on his dad's groin - a fact which he capitalized on fully by taking a breath deeper than any he had taken today. He could feel his own hardness standing proudly, asking for attention. Yet he could wait - his pleasure could wait. He'd be damned if he didn't give this blowjob his all. Having breathed in enough musk and body odor, his head started slowly lifting. A rhythmic bobbing of his head was established as he started moving his lips to the head, before slamming back into Henry's crotch. This simple movement started off at a comfortable pace, but soon got more and more rapid, more and more sloppy. Peter's hands gripped at the hairy hips in front of him, boring into the untanned skin only recently covered by underwear.

Henry wanted to say something, give any kind of feedback, yet the action happening between his legs was too much for his brain to be able to form a coherent thought. So instead, more breathy moans fell from his mouth, eventually becoming a soft whimper. His toes curled as he moved his legs around chaotically, unsure of what to do with all the pleasure he was experiencing. His hands were gripping the sheets for dear life, attempting to ground him at least a little bit. Not that he could see any of what he was doing, considering most of the time his eyes were either closed or rolled so far back, he was looking at the wall behind the bed. On occasion, his torso rose in a particular throe of bliss.

It only took a few minutes before Henry was grasping for Peter's hair. He may not have been able to use words, but he still wanted to communicate somehow. Communicate to tell the cocksucker between his thighs he was getting close - and alarmingly fast at that. Of course, the sucker in question knew this even without Henry saying anything - he could feel the hips beneath his head buck as they were trying to follow the rhythm - although in what could only be described as a sloppy, feeble attempt.

And then the loud moan came - and with it came Henry. His mouth hung agape with sounds coming out of it at random: moans, whimpers, grunt, word slivers. Peter had buried his face as deep into the base as he could, feeling the meat in his throat slowly shoot ropes of white baby batter all across his esophagus. His knuckles turned white from the vice grip he had on the supple hips around his head, while his cock also had little beads of precum adorning its head. The semen started pouring in smaller loads and more spaced out twitches, eventually abating completely. The hardness was gone, leaving a softening dick on his tongue. Unexpectedly, a mighty tug came from two meaty paws grasping at his shoulders, pulling him up. He did not resist.

Henry slammed his mouth into Peter's, his heavy breathing making him interrupt the connection quite a few times, but nevertheless always returning to a passionate and sloppy make-out.

"Boy, that was quite the suckin'. I know ya missed me for 2 weeks, but damn," Henry said, panting loudly as he gazed into his son's eyes.

"Pops, ya normally last longer than this. So I think we both mighty missed each other, hm?" Peter retorted teasingly.

No verbal response came, but the older Lovegood made a prison out of his arms, tightly embracing the man in-between them. Not that the captive was protesting, the warm and hairy hug being more than welcome anytime, really. He nestled into the chest he was being smooshed into, enjoying the warm and safe feeling. It felt like home... it felt like love.

The undershirt below him started to rise and fall as a characteristic snore resounded in his ears. His dad was snoring... It made Peter wonder just how awfully his father had slept for the last weeks, but he could ask that another time. His erection was still throbbing and raring to go, but he wasn't about to wake his poor old man. Slowly wiggling out of the vice grip he was locked in, he removed himself from the bed as he grabbed the blanket and threw it over the sleeping man. He quickly ran off into the bathroom to go through his pre-sleep hygiene, before eventually returning to the bedroom, crawling into bed and under the covers, until he finally nestled himself against his dad.

Henry did not rouse even a bit, simply continuing to snore away. But some instinct of his must had gotten activated, considering he stretched one of his arms out, pulling the body of his son closer. Peter might not have cum, but he didn't really mind, his hardness was softening already. Blue balls would be a morning problem, the current him was too tired to care. In that position, the two of them enjoyed a dreamless, but fulfilling sleep as they snored away until the late morning.


(Author's Note: This is an OLD chapter, but I decided to continue this story! It's going to be a happier one than the previous one, even if it will have its turbulence or two. The writing of this chapter is a tad different to my current writing, so the style differences between this and the next chapters will be a bit off-putting, I apologize! I still hope you enjoyed and will stick for the ride!)


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