ok, i finally managed to get this posted! i've been working like a...horse, actually...the past few days, and it's not letting up anytime soon. but i've found the time to get this up and running...and then my computer decided to be a fat penis and hate me. (don't ask where i get that, i just say it a lot) been working to do this bit since 6 pm, by the way

there's nothing much about this fic, except the mildly incestual slashiness. and even then, it's not really that.... anyway, yeah. this is mainly humorous/feel good fluffs. and i don't know where i got this one either, but it's a rewrite of a far-different/heavy fic. heavy as in...i couldn't post it here without getting it removed. (shifty eyes) oh yeah, i forgot that there is the mention of underage relationships in this one too (is that a trend with me, or what?)

so yeah, i hope you enjoy this! it's the latest of my one-shot kick, and hopefully, the last for the time being.

POV: A late thirty-ish man, with a 17 year old son. yaysville.

Saturday, 1 October, 2005 8:26 pm


That now-familiar car was parked in the driveway when I pulled in beside it, and I grinned good-naturedly as I thought about how often that kid was over now-a-days. Gregory Jumana and Hector (Heck, for short) were always good friends, if I remember right, but just recently, they've been hanging pretty damn close. I guess it's just one of those teenager things; acquaintances one year, best buds the next. Hell, I was the same way with some of my friends from high school, and even now, I don't see any of them anymore.

Of course, it's been over 15 years since I graduated and moved out of my hometown. Heck is 17 now, and we've been on our own since Bella split about eight years ago. I miss that woman sometimes, but really, it's a good thing that she's gone; she was a shitty ass mother to Heck, and barely decent with me the few years leading up to hell breaking loose.

Anyway, I think that I've done right in raising my boy, right enough for a single dad working overtime nearly every other week.

But not this week, which is surprising. This is the first time I've been home before seven at night in over a month, and I'm looking forward to spending some time with my boy. I guess lately I've felt as if we've grown apart in some way, as if there's something happening that I can't put my finger on. Maybe it's just sentimental bullshit, or just the fact that he's grown so close to this kid.

Greg is a nice enough boy, I suppose, from what I know of him. He spends a lot of time at our house, which I don't object to in the least, as I know that his home-life is pretty shitty…if I could beat his fucker of a father, I would do it without hesitation. The kid is pretty meek under authority, and it took forever to get him to simply call me Mr. Sherman, instead of Sir all the time.

Even though I was home early, I was still too beat to feel like fixing supper, so decided that it would be better to just order in some pizzas. Besides, those boys can pack away a lot of grub, and pizza just happens to be one of Heck's favorite food groups.

I didn't see them when I entered the house, but that wasn't unusual; Heck and his friends always found it 'cooler' to veg out in his bedroom, which is fairly spacious and equipped. I have to admit that I've spoiled him growing up, letting him have a television equipped with cable, a playstation (or whatever game system it is, he goes through them all pretty regular), and just recently, a computer with internet. I never had any of those when I was a kid, well…wouldn't have, even if they'd been available at the time. I just figure that if I have the means to give him a good life, then I'll do it for him. My way of telling him how much I love him, I suppose.

And god, do I love that boy of mine. Ever since I laid eyes on his red and wrinkled up body straight after delivery, he owned my heart and soul. That was one thing that Bella had always thrown into my face, that I loved my son more than my wife. But I couldn't help it; he was a part of me, while she was an ever-increasing thorn in my side.

She was dating my best friend in high school, and he warned me against her when I first began dating her our senior year. I should have listened to Nate; he for sure knew what he was talking about. She was just one of those…micro-organizational women, and I prefer not to have so much structure in my life. My family had always been one of flexibility rather than firm control…leaving me far more open to most things than my wife.

And yes, we are still technically married, as I have no clue where she is, and have no other way to obtain a divorce. I guess it doesn't really matter at the moment, as I'm far too busy to date anyone else, not to mention marry again. Maybe after Heck leaves home, I might look into the dating scene again, but I don't know. I like women a lot, and lord knows that I've had the casual fling here and there again these past few years, but I'm not at the point that a woman in my life is what I crave. I'm pleased with my life right now, so perfectly content to let things be as they are.

Anyway, I decided that pizza was best, but had no idea what those boys would want for toppings. I'm not picky, myself, but I know that Heck gets into certain 'moods' at times, and it's a disaster to try to assume that he'd want any certain thing without asking him first. Thus, I made my way down the hall to the closed bedroom door, opening it without even thinking of knocking first.

I opened my mouth to talk, but my brain finally informed me that pizza was the last thing I should be contemplating at the moment. Instead, I should be thinking about how Greg had Heck's dick nearly all the way down his throat, both boys shirtless and clearly used to such behaviors between them. The moment the door opened, Heck had looked over at me, his face flushed and his eyes glazed as he gulped in air…it was rather clear that he was close to orgasm at this point.

Greg jerked away, pure terror on his face at being caught.

I just flushed and pulled the door closed, the impact of the occurrences still slow to catch up with me. I heard muffled talking and scuffling going on, and then the door was flying back open…Greg had yanked his shirt back on inside out, and had tears clearly streaking his face. He fled without even looking at me, and was quickly followed by my still half-naked son…who at least had had the presence of mind to put his erection back into his pants as he ran after his friend/lover/boyfriend (?).

"Greg, wait…! Come on, we can talk about this!" he called, but the slamming of the front door announced that the boy was already gone. I walked back out into the living room, where my son was slumped on the couch, his face in his hands.

Even as I watched, his shoulders quivered, and he let out a strangled sob, making me feel horribly guilty. I walked over and sank down beside him on the couch, my arm going around his sweaty shoulders as I murmured, "I'm so sorry, I didn't even think to knock, Heck." He looked at me through wet eyes, vaguely astonished at how calm I was, other than my guilt.

"You don't care?" he asked me, and I asked, "Should I?"

He wrestled for words, but then managed, "I don't know…most dads would freak to find out their son was gay, Dad."

"Why should I freak? True, I feel upset that I burst in your room like that, but I'd feel that way if it was a girl that you'd had in there. Actually…I might freak if you ever had a girl in your room…fatherhood is a blessing, but not at your age."

He stared at me before laughing, shaking his shaggy mane of dark hair. "Crazy. You act relieved that I'm gay, in that regard."

"Maybe just a bit…I'd rather you didn't engage in sex though, as you can get diseases just as easily as a girl can get pregnant. Well, even straight, you run that risk…but men are fucking bastards when it comes to lying about their sex record."

He blushed red at that statement, muttering, "I wouldn't know, Dad. I've only ever…messed around with Greg, and nothing that…nothing like that. Not yet, anyway."

"So…is he your boyfriend? Or just…fuck buddies?" I questioned, and he again blushed.

"I'm not really sure…we've never said what we are. I don't think so, Dad…I like him a lot, but I don't think I like him enough in that way." He admitted shyly. I nodded, aware that his hand was nervously wiping at his jean-covered thighs…close to his still hard crotch.

"Sorry I fucked that up for you, Heck, not knocking like that." I commented, indicating his erection, much to his mortification.

"Uh…s'alright, I guess. It'll just…go away, after awhile." He stammered, embarrassed and trying to cover it up by grabbing one of the couch pillows and placing it over his lap.

"That's a lie, and you know it. Once you get to that point, those things are there until taken care of, son." I admonished, and he blushed even deeper red.

"M-may-be so, D-D-Dad." He stuttered, eyes skittering away from me anxiously. I didn't even pause to think about how he'd react, I just reached over and slid my hand beneath that pillow, my fingers brushing the bulge as I found the button of his jeans.

"What the fuck…?!" he screeched, flailing away from my hand in panic.

"It's the least I could do, Heck, for being an ass." I commented mildly, moving in close again, and easily undoing the fastenings. He literally froze, his breath coming in sharp gasps as I calmly pulled his erection from his pants and began expertly stroking him.

"Dad…are you…why…?" he breathed, that familiar flush coming back to his face as his hands fisted up in the cushions by his side.

"Am I gay? No. Believe me when I say that I'm only interested in women, son." I admitted, keeping up a steady rhythm, jerking off my son as if I was merely watching a soccer match on the television.

"Then why?" he gasped, his breathing quickly becoming harsh.

"Remember your Uncle Ivan, the one that died when you were about six?" I questioned, and he had to take a moment to nod his head, as a soft moan of appreciation spilled from his lips.

"We experimented some when we were younger…I was about 14 then. It was later that he realized that men were the only partners he wanted. You know that I keep in touch with Patrick…he was Ivan's last lover, before that accident."

I know that Heck heard me, but he was already too far-gone to reply, his head falling back as he tensed up, short grunting gasps erupting from his chest as he suddenly hit his peak.

I watched as he rode out his pleasure, feeling strangely blessed that I was able to witness an act that most fathers never will for their sons. I always felt that a person's orgasm was when they were at their most vulnerable…but they are also invincible, for that short amount of time. I'd always been fascinated by orgasm, be it my own or someone else's. Therefore, the fact that I was witness to Heck's was incredibly special to me.

He finally sighed as he relaxed, achieving that peculiar 'bone-less' sensation I know so well. It was as if he was literally poured onto the couch, fluid and perfectly molded to the furniture.

"That a good enough atonement?" I questioned, and he started, as if having forgotten about my presence. He blushed a deep red and hurriedly tucked himself back into his jeans, unheeding of his own mess.

"Y-Yeah…I…yeah, good enough." He stammered, and I grinned.

"So…what will you be wanting on your pizza?" I questioned, standing from the couch as he blinked up at me.

"Uh…pepperoni's fine." He stated, and I nodded. "Kay, I'll go order it in then."

I walked out, and suddenly heard him screech, "Patrick is Uncle Ivan's old lover?"

I stuck my head back into the living room, a lecherous grin on my face. "Yeah…Ivan always had an eye for young meat."

"But that would mean that Pat was only…16, when Ivan died!" Heck cried, incredulous.

I nodded, and added, "And it seems as if Patrick has developed a taste for much younger men, himself."

I stared pointedly at my son, who blushed the deepest red I've ever seen a human being produce…the blush went all the way down his abdomen.

Uh-huh…I'd thought so.

"Does he…I mean…." He shyly stammered, gripping his elbow as he scuffed at the carpet with his shoe.

"Do you?" I asked instead, and he bobbed his head just once, admitting, "When I was 13, I paraded naked in front of him after coming out of the shower, hoping that he'd…do something…I've had a crush on him since as long as I knew I like boys."

I stared at him before cracking up, loving the irony of it. "He still talks about that day, Heck. You must have left quite an impression upon the poor man."

He stared at me, unbelieving, but allowing a smile to cross his face. "Really? You mean it?" he questioned, and I just nodded as I laughed.

"You know…I bet Patrick gets rather lonely now-a-days…I think I'll invite him over for supper as well." I stated, grinning as I heard his gasp of delight, just before he lunged at me.

"Thanks Dad, you are too awesome." He told me, nearly hugging the breath from my body.

"Yeah, yeah…too awesome to breath?" I panted, and he laughed as he released me.

"Almost."

I rolled my eyes, but ruffled up his hair with my 'clean' hand. "Go clean up, Heck…you'll not want to let him know that you've already had your fun for the night."

He blushed crimson, but did turn to go do as I said. But just before leaving the kitchen, he paused, looking back at me. "Dad…I love you."

Warmth flooded my being, as I replied, "I love you too, son." He gave me a lop-sided smile, and then left the room.

After washing my hands, I punched in the number I've come to know so well, "Hey, Patrick, it's Yeager…you busy tonight? No? Well, you feel up to coming over tonight…I got a guy I think you should meet. Yeah, this guy really likes you…have you met before? Yes, I believe you have…. Where's Heck? He's in the shower, I should think, but what does that have to do with anything…? What do you mean, wha'do I mean by that? Honestly, Patrick, I'd think that you didn't trust me by now…."


A/N: so yeah, that's it. no more!! i do so love to end on a high note.

sooooo........let me know what you thought. as always, i strive to improve, and i can't without constructive criticism!!!! (never thought i'd willing say that, ever)