Since Damon was running late, he asked Irvine for a ride home. Irvine came inside with Damon since he wanted to say hi to Uncle Emmett. “I promise I won’t stay long,” he said, knowing that Damon and his dad were having a date night at home. “I just wanna say hi.”
Emmett smiled when he saw Damon. “Just in time.” His smile grew when Irvine stepped into the kitchen behind his son. “Hey, kiddo! This is a surprise.”
“Hi, Uncle Emmett,” Irvine said, fluttering his lashes flirtatiously. When he reached his uncle, he went up on his toes for a kiss on the lips, which Emmett received unquestioningly. “Since I’m dropping off precious cargo, I had to make sure he made it all the way inside unscathed.”
Emmett chuckled and kissed his nephew again, squeezing his big, muscled ass. “Uh huh. What a good boy.” He smiled at his son who was glowering a few feet away from them, hoping to assuage some of his jealousy.
Irvine smirked. “Maybe you can pass that along to my dad?”
“Not sure he’d believe me,” Emmett drawled, and he reached for his son, who was hovering awkwardly, looking somewhere between shocked at Irvine’s gall and wanting to hiss like a kitten at his cousin for stepping into his territory. (As if Emmett couldn’t smell the sweat and cum on the two boys and immediately deduce what they’d been up to.) “Come here, baby.”
Damon’s scowl faded just a bit as he received a kiss from his dad, but he felt his cheeks flush as he realized this was their first time kissing in front of an audience. “Hi, dad.”
Emmett’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what you call me?”
Damon’s cheeks flushed even redder. “Hi, Daddy.”
Emmett hummed happily, grabbing his son’s little bubble butt. “Good boy.”
Irvine snickered at his cousin’s embarrassment. “I gotta get going. Have fun!” He gave them each a kiss on the cheek then he left with a cheerful, “Love you! See you later!”
Daddy pulled Damon between his legs where he was leaning on the counter, bringing them closer–but not quite–to eye level. Damon gazed into his dad’s warm brown eyes. “Hi,” he said breathily, palms pressing into his firm pecs.
Emmett smiled, finding it adorable that his son was acting like a–well, like a teenager talking to a crush. He kissed his son on the nose, just because he could. “Hi. I didn’t know you were hanging out with Irvine. I thought you two hated each other?”
Damon shifted uncomfortably, though his cock was thickening against Emmett’s. “Um, would you believe the problem has been unresolved sexual tension all these years?”
Emmett laughed so loud it surprised them both. “Wow, who would have thought?”
Damon hummed grumpily. “Yeah, so, um. He–we–fucked. And he told me about…the tradition.”
Emmett’s smile faded as his son’s words–and meaning–sank in. The last thing he considered was that his son would turn to Irvine, who he hadn’t gotten along with in years, for advice. In its own way, it did make sense. “I’m sorry you didn’t hear about it from me.”
Damon’s eyes watered, and he pushed away from his dad. “How could you keep that from me?”
Emmett let him go, but he stood to his full height, following his son as he backed away. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“You weren’t!” Damon yelled. Emmett felt like he was losing control of the situation. It didn’t seem appropriate to reprimand his son for expressing his feelings, but he knew that his anger was escalating and that could make the situation devolve. And it hurt, seeing his son’s pain. Just seconds ago, his son was sweet and docile and snuggling up to him, and now he was the Old Damon, the one who hated his dad. “You lied to me!”
“Damon,” Emmett said, hands raising placatingly. “Stop yelling, and we can talk.”
Damon scoffed wetly, tears falling from his eyes. He did his best to wipe them away with his hands, face hot and red with anger and embarrassment. “Talk about the fact that–” He made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a hiccup as he tried to catch the breath that was abandoning him. “That everyone knew–and I was the only one–” A sob escaped him, and Emmett felt like the scum of the earth.
How could he explain himself? How could he communicate to an eighteen year old, legally an adult but mentally still just a teenager, that he thought he’d been protecting him? That society had been right, and that Emmett was wrong, perverted, for making love to his siblings, his parents, his cousins, and eventually his nephews?
Emmett thought he’d been shielding his son, and instead he’d driven a wedge between them that seemed impossible to fix. But it wasn’t impossible, he knew it wasn’t impossible, because things had been so good between them lately. Damon was even repairing his relationship with his cousin, something that Dax and Emmett both worried was a lost cause, and something Irvine had been grieving for years.
Emmett tried to close the distance between them, but Damon lashed out, shoving Emmett back. He wasn’t strong enough to hurt him that way, but Emmett felt the emotional weight of the blow, and it was painful enough that he stepped back from the force of it. “I don’t want to make this worse.” He didn’t want to make things worse by talking with his son, something that he’d tried and failed at for years.
Damon turned and stormed off. Emmett watched, indecisive–to give him space and let him cool off, or to chase him down and force him to listen to his reasoning–except, instead of turning at the stairs, he blew past them towards the front door.
Emmett panicked. Irrational or not, he was worried that if Damon walked out that door…this was it. This was all that was left for them. All of his fears would come true, and he would lose his son for good.
He realized, in that moment, that this was probably exactly how his own dad had felt a time or two. In these moments where nothing a parent says or does can fix the Big Feelings teenagers have, brain chemistry telling them that common daily occurrences are high stakes, practically life and death.
What would his dad have done in this situation? The countless times Emmett had lost it, overwhelmed and lost because of raging hormones and societal pressures put on teens.
What would his dad have done in this situation? The countless times Emmett had lost it, overwhelmed and lost because of raging hormones and societal pressures put on teens.
Damon gasped when his dad grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking him off his feet and into his arms. He fought with everything he had, kicking and screaming and even yelling ‘fire’ like they taught students to say in school if they thought they were getting kidnapped, determined to get the attention of someone walking their dog or something, anything, to get away from his father in that moment.
He hated his dad. He hated himself. He hated his family. He hated everything and everyone. All he wanted was to smoke a joint, have a few shots, and chill out at a friend’s house where their parents didn’t hover like his helicopter dad did.
“No!” he cried when the same pattern was repeated, one he’d come to expect.
His dad pulled off his belt while restraining Damon with one arm around his torso, pinning his arms at his sides, then yanked his wrists behind his back. He tightened the belt securely, then he began to strip off Damon’s pants and underwear, yanking them off along with his shoes and socks, all landing in a tangled heap beneath his feet. Then he was flung unceremoniously over Daddy’s lap, stunned momentarily at the first sharp crack followed by stinging pain of a wide, calloused palm.
“Count,” Emmett growled.
Damon refused.
His dad spanked him quickly but methodically. It was hard to explain the way he did it, with restrained emotion, the feelings bleeding from his palm and into Damon who slowly lost his fight as the pain increased and his resolve weakened.
The rage and embarrassment was struck from him, one crackling slap at a time.
Damon finally, defeatedly, croaked, “One.”
Emmett only went up to ten before he lifted Damon in his arms, letting his son snuggle up to him, sobbing into his shoulder and soaking his shirt with tears. Sensing that the storm had passed, he freed his wrists from his belt, finding his own comfort in the weight of his son’s sweaty, overheated body in his arms.
“Baby,” Emmett murmured, and Damon cried harder. He rubbed his son’s rear gently, peeking over his shoulder and seeing that Damon’s ass was bright red. He hadn’t hit him hard enough that it would cause serious damage, but it would definitely add a few days of healing time to the bruises that had already been there. Emmett hadn’t spanked Damon with as much force as he could have, but he recalled that with his own dad, oftentimes it was the ritual of the act itself, taking the autonomy from him and showing him that his dad was the one who was actually in control, that was enough to calm him down.
Unbeknownst to Emmett, his son was reaching the same conclusion.
Damon finally understood the thoughts that had been floating in the periphery of his mind for weeks now. Firstly, his dad loved him, and there was nothing Damon could do to ever change that. Secondly, when Damon was freaking out, when his emotions got away from him, his dad would be there to help him in whatever way he needed, even if Damon didn’t agree with the methods.
If his dad didn’t love him, he would have let Damon walk out into the night by himself. He would have let him go to a friend’s house where their parents didn’t give a shit. Where they could do whatever they wanted, unsupervised, whether it be shitty stick n poke tattoos or snorting laced drugs.
“W-why didn’t you tell me?” Damon finally asked between hiccuping gasps. He was hyperventilating.
“Shh,” Emmett said. “We can talk about it when you’ve calmed down some. Follow what I do: breathe deep, hold it…then let it go.” He walked Damon through breathing exercises until he began to doze.
After Emmett swaddled Damon in blankets and got some food in him, they talked for hours.
“I was a lot like you as a teenager,” Emmett admitted, not without some reluctance. No parent wanted to admit to their kid that they were ever just as insecure and lost as their kids. Emmett wanted to be strong for Damon, always. “That’s how things got started with my dad, actually. Dax and I had fooled around a lot growing up, and he and my dad’s relationship turned sexual not long after he turned…well, let’s just say he was young.
“I don’t know why I hated my dad so much, or if there even was a reason. He was the authority figure in my home life, the disciplinarian, but I also knew that no matter what I did, he’d never hate me. And in a way, that made him an easier target, because if you know you can say anything, do anything, and the person won’t turn on you…”
Damon looked miserable and ashamed when he said, “You can treat them like shit.”
Emmett gave him a sad smile. “Exactly. When we’re young, before our frontal lobes are developed, we lack critical decision making skills, among other things, that allow us to operate to our full potential.
“That, and my propensity for getting myself into trouble, were the reasons my dad finally…well, ‘raped’ feels like a strong word, but it was definitely not entirely consensual at first, despite the attraction always being there. God, you should’ve seen your grandpa thirty years ago. He’s still just as attractive, but more…”
Damon smirked. “Silver fox?”
Emmett mirrored his son’s expression. “Daddy muscle bear?”
Damon cackled. “Dad! That’s…” He sobered and sat up straighter before remembering his sore bottom and wiggling to ease the pressure there. “Are you gay?”
“Good question,” Emmett said thoughtfully. He wasn’t sure how to answer, mostly because…well, he wasn’t. “I don’t consider myself gay, but I will say that the best sexual experiences of my life have been with two men: Dax and Grandpa.”
Damon choked on his apple juice. “Wait, Grandpa? Seriously?”
Emmett laughed at his son’s childish ‘ick’ face. “Yes, your grandpa. My dad. But I did love and thoroughly enjoyed having sex with your mom. It’s sort of like…for fear of sounding disrespectful, I’m going to use food as an example, just because it’s easy. Let’s say you go to a restaurant and have the best food of your life. That doesn’t mean that you won’t continue eating different food, food you like or even love, food that comes close, does it?”
Damon looked equal parts horrified and intrigued. “But…Grandpa? Seriously?”
Emmett grinned and raised a brow, deciding to try something new: flirting with his son. “So far.”
It had the desired effect, because his son’s cheeks turned rosy.
Emmett continued, more seriously, “It’s hard to say. I’ve been having sex with Dax and Grandpa since I was a teenager. When you have that kind of relationship, that experience with the same person for so long, it’s like you know their body as well as you know your own. I swear, sometimes Dax can just look at me, and he knows exactly what I need. Some people find that boring, and those are the type of people who cheat or get divorced. For me, it’s something I’ve always treasured.”
Damon looked at his dad questioningly. “Do you know what I need?”
Emmett considered his son’s question for a moment before answering. “I think that I do, and it’s not dissimilar to what I needed at your age. I know most kids don’t want to hear this from their parents, but I do think you could benefit from a firmer hand. And I should have intervened sooner, but I can’t change the past.
“There are reasons why the age of consent is what it is and why there are laws against incest and pedophilia. Exposure to sex at a young age, particularly with adults, can negatively impact the way the brain develops. I didn’t want to fuck you up by exposing you to that lifestyle at all, but especially when I felt you were too young to be having sex.”
“But look at Irvine!” Damon interjected petulantly. “Look at Angel and Brent and Dax and you. You’re all so…successful and smart and functional. And I’m…”
“You’re perfect,” Emmett said sternly, reaching over and tilting his son’s chin so they were eye to eye. “I love you, and you’re perfect to me. Perfect for me.”
“You’re perfect,” Emmett said sternly, reaching over and tilting his son’s chin so they were eye to eye. “I love you, and you’re perfect to me. Perfect for me.”
Damon pouted. “You’re only saying that because you’re my dad.”
“I’m saying it because it’s true,” Emmett corrected. “I’m saying it as a father to his son, but I’m also saying it…” Emmett wasn’t sure he wanted to continue, but the hopeful look on Damon’s face spurred him on. “I’m saying it as a lover, one man to another. I’m saying it as…” He searched for the right words. “This is complicated, sweetheart. I’m your dad and your Daddy, if you’ll have me.”
Damon’s eyes widened. “Really?”
Emmett smiled at his boy. “Of course, baby. You’re smart and funny and sweet–when you’re not behaving like a brat. I adore you and I’m proud to call you my son.”
“When I’m not behaving like a brat?” Damon guessed.
“All the time,” Emmett said earnestly. “There are no conditions. I have always loved you, since you were a little bean in your mom’s belly, and I’ll love you in the next life, too. You are my world, Damon.”
Damon’s lip wobbled, and he threw his arms around his dad’s neck, crawling into his lap like he had earlier in the evening. “I love you, Daddy. I’m so sorry. For everything.”
They hugged for a long time, and Emmett rocked his son side to side, holding him tightly, finding comfort and warmth in the embrace.
After a while, Damon started to squirm. At first, Emmett thought he wanted to be let go, but he refused, holding him hostage in his arms. Eventually, he realized what the problem was: Damon was hard, and he was seeking friction. At the same moment, Damon started kissing along Emmett’s neck.
Emmett nuzzled Damon’s cheek, coaxing his son to turn his head and meet his kiss, taking to it the way a flower does the sun, arms circling Emmett’s neck in an effort to pull him even closer, as if they weren’t already as close as they possibly could be with Emmett’s clothes as a barrier.
Emmett knew that the conversation wasn’t done, but he could tell that his son needed something else at the moment. He let himself get lost in the kiss, carried away in the sensation as he began slowly jerking Damon whose body was bare now that the blanket had fallen to the ground.
Damon broke the kiss for air, and his dad immediately began to kiss and suck at his neck, causing his whole body to break out in goosebumps. Never had he ever encountered someone who made him feel as good as his daddy, including Irvine, though he was probably in second place.
His dad was so confident, so skilled, with a body so much bigger and more powerful than Damon’s. He never knew feeling small could be so arousing.
Damon tried to speak, but as he was about to, Daddy flicked his wrist on the upstroke and a moan came out instead. Damon cleared his throat and tried again. “Daddy, will you please fuck me?”
Emmett paused his ministrations and pulled away so he could see his son’s expression. “You want that? Me inside of you?”
Damon nodded earnestly. “So much. You have no idea.”
His dad gave him a lopsided smirk that was oddly adorable and sexy. “You might be surprised.”
Damon matched his smile. “I fucked Irvine, but he didn’t…I told him I want it to be you.”
Fuck, if that didn’t make Emmett’s heart squeeze in his chest. “I’d be honored, sweetheart.” He kissed his son one more time before he released his cock and said, “Go upstairs and get in my bed.” Which would hopefully be their bed someday, once Damon got used to their arrangement.
Damon took off up the stairs, jumping onto the bed and sprawling on his back. His dad entered a moment later, slowly stripping out of his clothes, which was both the hottest thing he’d ever witnessed and the most frustrating.
“Daddy,” he complained. “Hurry up.”
Emmett cocked a brow at him, dropping his shirt into the laundry basket. “Is that how you talk to Daddy?”
Damon found himself getting lost in the role, and he wondered how long that had been happening, as the spacey feeling felt familiar. He felt like a little kid in a way, full of excitement and love, wanting to please his Daddy and make him happy. All he wanted was to be in Daddy’s arms, surrounded by his warmth and affection and comforting, yet arousing, scent.
Emmett would never get sick of the way his son was looking at him, needy and hopeful and happy. It had been years since his son looked at him with anything other than anger, irritation, or apathy, and he had a feeling the darker days were finally behind them.
“No, Daddy,” Damon said apologetically.
“Have you pooped?” Emmett asked.
Damon gave him a horrified look. “What?”
Emmett tried not to laugh at his son’s mortification. It was a parental instinct to protect their kids as much as it was to embarrass them.
“Sweetheart, I’m going to put this–” Emmett squeezed the large cock that had just sprung from the confines of his underwear. “–in your cute little ass. It’s a pertinent question.”
Damon threw a pillow at him, which Emmett dodged. “Yes, I took a shit, father!”
Emmett supposed today wouldn’t be the day to have an in depth conversation about hygiene. He’d been sticking his cock up assholes for the better part of thirty years and didn’t mind a bit of a mess, but he knew his boy would likely prefer the enema route once he discovered it. He was too similar to Irvine for that to not be the case. He’d overheard his nephew lecturing his brothers on more than one occasion about the benefits–and politeness–of douching. “I squirt water up my ass everyday for you motherfuckers!”
Emmett had slowly backed out of the room when he’d heard Brent joke, “That’s kind of gay, dude,” not wanting to bear witness to the inciting blow of WWIII.
Emmett kneeled on the bed and crawled over Damon’s slender body, pressing kisses to his hip, belly button, pec, chin, then mouth. Damon gladly received the kiss, sliding his fingers into his dad’s thick hair and tugging on it gently, moaning when Daddy slid his tongue over the seam of his lips, demanding entry.
Emmett reached for the lube while he kissed his son. Damon didn’t seem to notice the click of the cap nor the sound of the liquid being squirted onto his hand. He warmed it between his fingers before reaching down between his son’s legs. Damon’s body responded on instinct, legs spreading to allow him better access, hips tilting up invitingly, begging for attention to his cock.
Emmett ignored it in favor of his virgin hole, rubbing it gently with his fingers. Predictably, Damon’s body tensed up and he made a questioning noise, a vibrating “hmph?” pressed against his tongue.
Emmett stepped up the distraction tactics, wanting to make this good for his son. He nipped his son’s jaw, which made him grunt in surprised pleasure, then he kissed his neck, adding sucks and bites.
Damon had never been on the receiving end of this kind of attention from his dad, and he couldn’t keep track of what was happening where. He knew the fingers massaging his taint were starting to feel incredible, and the sucking on his neck felt so fucking good and proprietary, like he belonged to his Daddy, was merely a fucksleeve to do whatever he wanted. And as if his body agreed, when his dad’s fingers prodded his hole, it invited him right in, stretching to accommodate his large finger.
The feeling was foreign and immediately unpleasant, simply because Damon hadn’t known what to expect. It definitely felt like something was going in an exit. It was also frustrating, the slow, steady strokes the finger was making, and the fact that a single finger could feel so damn big.
“How’s that feel, baby?” Emmett asked when he felt his son’s hole start to relax.
“Good,” Damon murmured, head tilted back to give Emmett more access to the clavicle he’d been marking up by sucking. He knew he was too old to give hickeys, but he was lost in the moment, in the desire to make his son his, stake his claim on the boy.
Emmett pulled out and slid another finger alongside the first, and he could sense Damon’s tiny intake of breath, knowing his son was experiencing a burning, stretching sensation unique to bottoming.
By the time Emmett was working his son open with three fingers, his son was a beautiful wreck, squirming and flushed and giving his Daddy big, begging doe eyes. “Daddy, please, fuck me.” His thighs were spread, feet planted on the bed showing off his genitals enticingly, any and all shyness forgotten.
Emmett didn’t know if he could turn his son down even if he wanted to. “Okay, baby.” He removed his fingers and lined up his cock after slicking it up with lube. “Clench your hole tight.”
Damon obeyed, though he gave his dad a quizzical look through the fog of horniness.
“Alright, release.”
Damon released, and his dad pressed his cock in, and it the head slid in with minimal resistance. Damon’s eyes widened in surprise, looking down at where their bodies were joined. “You’re inside of me.”
That look of wonder and awe was something Emmett would never get tired of seeing. “It feels amazing.”
“It does,” Damon said, brow furrowing as his daddy pushed in deeper. “Oh, fuck, you’re huge.”
If Emmett didn’t know it was Damon’s first time and that he really did have a bigger piece than average, he might have thought that was flattery. “Tell me when.”
“When,” Damon said without hesitation, and Emmett smirked. He liked to think of himself as evolved, but he would never get tired of anyone, especially other men, being impressed by his physique or the equipment he was packing.
Damon took his size with enough ease that Emmett really did start to wonder if the ‘family curse’ was more than just an inside joke and leaned more towards superstition. It was rare, but even experienced bottoms have had trouble fitting him, yet Damon took him into his tight ass, relaxing when he needed to, listening to Emmett as he coached him through it.
“That’s it,” Emmett said with a proud grin. “You took all of me.”
Damon’s smile was adorable. “Really?”
“You’re such a good boy,” Emmett said, leaning down to kiss his son on the lips.
Damon’s lids fluttered closed as he met his dad’s kiss, moaning softly as his dad began to thrust slowly in and out. Fuck, it felt amazing, having his dad’s fat cock up his ass. He couldn’t believe he ever thought he was straight. And he wanted his dad to pound his ass so desperately that it felt like the feeling had always been there.
Daddy broke the kiss and smiled down at him. He looked happy, but also kind of like the Big Bad Wolf who had finally captured the prey he’d been chasing.
“You look exactly like the man most parents warn their kids away from,” Damon said, smug grin matching his dad’s.
His dad laughed, an unexpected side effect being that his dick nudged Damon’s prostate, making his eyes roll back in his head.
“Any regrets?” Emmett asked more seriously, though he expected there would be none. It seemed like he and Damon were on the same page for the first time in years.
“Only that we didn’t do this sooner,” Damon said through pants as his dad began to thrust deeper.
His dad, the man who made the sperm that he’d shot into his mother’s womb, ultimately creating Damon who she then gave birth to–the same dad who raised him and kissed his booboos and had to get a haircut at the same time as him when he was a kid because he was afraid of the barber–that man was so goddamn sexy and feral as unleashed himself on Damon’s ass, stretching it wider than he knew it could expand.
Damon’s cock, which had flagged at one point, was fully erect and leaking as his dad pounded his channel, rearranging his insides and pushing as deep as it could go. He swore he could feel it in his stomach, though when he looked down, his belly remained flat and tensed from the climax growing within him.
His dad looked like a god above him, wide shoulders blotting out the lamplight, tan skin glistening with sweat, veins in his arms popping with the effort of holding up his bodyweight and holding Damon’s legs over his head. His dad looked like the definition of a man in his prime as he watched Damon like he was the only thing of importance in existence. What an honor it was, Damon thought, to be the center of attention to someone so handsome and caring.
Damon was alarmingly close, but that didn’t stop him from jerking his aching cock. “Cum in me, Daddy,” he rasped.
Emmett’s hips stuttered their rhythm. Fuck, that was the hottest thing he’d heard in his life, from the sexiest boy he’d met in his life. Had Emmett thought his dad and Dax were the best he’d ever had? Well, that was no longer the case.
This, this was the single most pleasurable moment in his life, and as he reached his peak, falling over the edge with hard snaps of his hips until he was pumping spurts of the semen that made him into his own son, he realized that nothing and no one had ever, or would ever, make him feel so high and so whole.
The rush of orgasm wasn’t centered in Damon’s cock and balls; instead, it was like his entire body fell over the edge, starting somewhere around his prostate and expanding out all the way to his tingling fingers and toes. He swore he even felt his ears pop, and he lost vision for a moment. He was shivering and shaking as his father held him, comforted him through the most terrifyingly exquisite orgasm of his short life.
Author’s Note: Thanks for reading! I will be going on hiatus starting 6/13 due to surgery. It is possible I won’t be able to comfortably use a keyboard for 4-6 weeks, but I’m optimistic that it’ll be sooner!
Today’s question: Would you have preferred it if this chapter was split in two parts? It’s around 4800 words, and when I finally noticed I was like, “whoops.” But it did make sense that I felt overwhelmed by the editing process lol. For that reason, there may be more typos than usual, but I didn’t want to keep y’all waiting since it’s been a while since I’ve updated.
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