Chapter Text
Eli wolfed out in his sleep again. It was something that sometimes happened with younger werewolves during intense dreams, usually nightmares. But in Eli’s case, there was nothing nightmarish about being surrounded by about twenty different mega hot guys and girls at a swanky beach house. The jacuzzi water felt real, as did the heavy petting and kissing and sounds of everybody having a little too much fun with each other.
It only made it that much more frustrating when Eli shot up in his bed at three o’clock in the morning with the fangs and the claws and the charming forehead that was free of eyebrows just like his own father’s wolf from. His throat burned with thirst and he was washed out in a gentle sweat that made him feel sticky. But worst of all, the dick between Eli’s legs was aching and leaking like the nineteen year old virgin that he was.
“Shit.” Eli said, flipping his sheets off of his body—staring down to where his cock was jumping inside the thin fabric of his plaid boxer shorts. “I think I was close too.”
Eli tumbled out of his bed and made his way to the kitchen to get some water. He was dressed only in his boxers, a t-shirt that was one size too big, and only had one of his socks on his feet because the other one slipped off during his tumultuous slumber and lost itself underneath the covers. His skin and clothes were still damp with cooling sweat and his boner refused to keep still as it bounced around with his steps in the looseness of his boxers, reminding Eli of the good dream he lost.
“I know, dude.” Eli said jokingly to his dick as he palmed down to where his shaft felt like hot steel and was just begging for a little more attention than what Eli was willing to exhaust himself giving up. “Tell me about it, huh.”
Eli was just about to take a sip of water when he heard something from the direction of his father’s bedroom. It sounded like a chirp of some sort—but not like from a phone, more in the territory of a whine somebody might make if they were sad or surprised or really enjoying something. But it caught Eli’s attention regardless because it didn’t sound like a sound he had ever heard his father make before.
Not only that, but it was extremely late—or extremely early, depending on how you thought about it. Derek was strict about keeping to a reasonable sleep schedule for himself because he liked to get up early for a little morning workout and coffee before work. And yet, the nearer Eli crept towards the hallway and towards his dad’s bedroom, the more odd sounds he picked up on in addition to the sight of where there was obvious light peeking out from underneath Derek’s door.
“Dad?” Eli called out innocently, softly twisting open the doorknob to his father’s bedroom door and pushing it open just enough so that he could peek his head inside the well lit space.
Eli’s dick was the first thing to react to what he saw inside the bedroom. His dick twitched and drooled with precum into the crotch of his boxers at the sight, totally without his permission. But it wasn’t his fault and he was willing to defend himself on the matter. His body was just going by the natural reaction anybody would have to seeing porn play out in front of their eyes, and holy shit—porn is exactly what was being played out in front of Eli’s eyes.
Derek was laid out on his bed and propped up against a stack of his pillows. He had one of his hands wrapped firmly around the eight inches of his furiously hard meaty dilf dick, eagerly stroking himself and moaning softly whenever another fat bubble of precum leaked down his hot shaft. At the same time, Derek’s other hand was reached down between the spread of his hairy legs as he hooked two of his fingers into the heat of his hole and fingered himself at a generous speed.
Eli knew his dad, but as he watched from the crack of the open bedroom door, part of him felt like he was watching a stranger. He had seen his father shirtless about a billion times, considering Derek slept without one and worked out without one. But he looked so different like this—so in tune with his body and how he liked to be touched. Eli knew his father was a romantic at heart, but this wasn’t romantic—this was sex, pure and simple and dirty, the kind of sex Eli liked to watch in porn.
Derek’s skin was practically glowing in the soft incandescents of the bedroom, as he was sweaty and all worked up. Eli, again, had seen his father’s shirtless torso sweaty before, but this—this was so different. And Eli couldn’t stop watching the way that his father’s beefy chest seemed to wobble gently brought on by the rapid movement of the older man’s hands. And shit —his hand was on his dick, hard and quick, just like he was also an eager nineteen year old looking for some action.
Eli palmed down to his boner as he watched his dad’s hand work over his dick. He couldn’t help but notice that his dad’s cock seemed to look nearly identical to his own, albeit his dad had a nicer tan. But it was solid, about eight inches in length and with a decent enough girth to it that Eli imagined would make it hard to find a partner that would be enthusiastic enough to take it inside. But considering how eager his dad seemed to be fingering himself, Eli didn’t think it was a worry Derek really had.
All these pretty little sounds continued to spill out from Derek’s mouth as he fucked himself on his fingers and jerked himself off. The man’s breath kept high and tight and he occasionally let out soft pants of breath and chirped moans. Derek seemed like he was close. His face, which was usually rather stern looking and pensive, was soft and glowy now. Derek’s lips were parted and his eyebrows were furrowed in a kind of way that made Eli actually want to step inside the room and work his father through finding an orgasm that meant something more than just a quick little pre-sleep exploration.
Eli hesitated at first, thinking about how fucking out of line he was to watch his dad so thoroughly tear himself to pieces in the most obscene kind of way. This was not the way a son was supposed to look at his father, but Eli couldn’t help himself. It was just the two of them in their own little world like this, like it had been since before Eli could remember because he never knew his mother. It made them close, possibly even closer than normal. But never like this, not once, not ever—but maybe Eli wanted it to be and maybe this was the chance to push it there.
It was too late in the night to think of all the complexities, so Eli just chased his own desires from where he kept secret in the sliver of his father’s bedroom’s threshold. He needed release just as much as his father so obviously did. So, Eli slipped his hand into the front of his boxers and pulled his cock with a great big swing that flung around his precum in a way that dirtied the nearby wall. Eli gave himself a few confident strokes and then eagerly matched the speed of his father’s hand from across the way, closing his eyes and letting his mind wander into the outrageous territory of imagining that it was his father’s hand touching him instead of his own.
The risk of getting caught only made Eli’s dick twitch harder in his fist. Part of him couldn’t believe that he was actually getting off to the sight and sound of his dad touching himself in such an erotic way. But another part of him couldn’t believe that it took him so long to actually make the leap into using Derek as one of his fantasies. Maybe it was just because he was still reeling from his almost, but not quite wet dream about the hot people’s beach party, but Eli felt as though he was the hardest he had ever been in his life.
“ Fuck. ” Derek moaned, bucking his hips up into his steady grip.
Derek was such a stickler about using swear words, but apparently not when he was fucking into his own hands. Eli couldn’t stop staring at the way that his dad touched himself. All the sounds he made. He was so delicate with himself, but so noticeably touch-starved from all the years of playing single father and devoting most of his time to work and keeping his lone rambunctious college rowdy boy of a son out of trouble.
Eli wanted to give his father nice things. Like blowjobs and maybe taking more care in the way he straightened up around the house after his friends left. But mainly, blowjobs. Eli wondered if his dad tasted like him, just as much as his dad’s cock looked like his. There was nothing weird about tasting your own cum, Eli knew that much—and he did it frequently, especially because it tasted so good. It was the reward on top of the initial reward of finding time to touch yourself. But really, Eli wanted to know what his father’s pent up responsibility tasted like.
Derek was getting closer. Eli could see it reflected in the way that Derek was touching himself. The man’s hips were thrusting harder into the air. He was stroking his cock in his hand just a tiny bit faster. And his fingers were definitely reaching deeper inside of himself. Eli didn’t need to listen into his dad’s heartbeat to know that it was picking up rhythm as he pushed closer to release—he was going to cum and Eli was not far behind.
Eli watched from the corner of his little hideaway as Derek trembled out a breathy shout and let his dick blow like a fucking geyser, erupting with a massive initital cumshot that arched through the air as a solid blast of white and struck Derek square in his forehead. The subsequent shots were all equally as unforgivably intense, though they struck other areas on Derek’s sweaty body—the sharpness of his chin, the bounce of his furry tits, and the ridges of his abs. The man was painted, creamed with nothing but his own release.
For Eli, his orgasm hit him so quickly that he didn’t even realize he was cumming until he felt his own hot and sticky release spill over his knuckles. He bit down on his bottom lip to stifle any would be noises, and cupped his hand around the head of his cock to catch the rest of his load so that his father didn’t freak the hell out about finding cum soaked into the carpet outside his bedroom door. Somehow, he imagined that his dad would be more outraged at the mess than the fact his son was beating off at the sight of him.
The orgasm was great. Eli’s hips kept pushing aborted thrusts into his fist as he squeezed out the last drop of cum from his softening cock. He needed to be quick, rather than stand around outside his dad’s bedroom and really relish in what he had just done. Despite the fact that his father was breathless and crushed under the weight of post-orgasmic euphoria, he’d come to his senses sooner or later and Eli didn’t want to get himself caught.
So, Eli slapped his handful of cum to his mouth and swallowed, palming the excess stickiness against his t-shirt. He was just about to book it back down the hallway to his own bedroom, when he caught sight of where his father was cleaning himself up. And while the decision to clean up wasn’t surprising whatsoever, especially considering how hard and how much Derek blew, it was surprising for Eli to see that his dad was literally using one of his old lacrosse jerseys as a fucking cumrag.
“ Holy shit. ” Eli breathed, feeling his dick give an enthusiastic twitch as though it were asking for a second round.
However, Derek was clearly coming back around to post-nut clarity and would definitely pick up on the sound of a heartbeat lurking outside his room. So, Eli softly closed his dad’s bedroom door and made his way back to his room. He could feel his dick getting harder and harder with each step he hook, the longer that he thought about how his dad was using one of his belongings as a way to clean up after a damn good orgasm.
It probably didn’t mean anything deeper, right? That’s what Eli told himself, because no way was his dad just as perverted as him. But the more Eli thought about it, now safe in the boundaries of his quiet bedroom, the more Eli thought about the fact that all of his jerseys were tucked away in his closet and had been there since he graduated a few years ago. So, it meant that Derek must have sought out one of his jerseys.
But why? And for what? Just so that he could use it as a cumrag on the nights that he thought nobody else was awake and could fingerfuck himself in peace? A towel could’ve done the same thing, surely. Did it mean something to him? Did he have it stashed in his room for another reason? And then Eli’s sharp werewolf nose picked up on the scent of his own cum, which was now stained onto his shirt from where he tried to wipe his sticky palm clean.
Eli could smell the way that his scent was now mixed into the scent of the original detergent and fabric softener that was already within the fabric. But more than that, Eli realized that he could also smell where his father’s scent still lingered on the shirt in addition to everything else, because Derek was the one who had done the laundry earlier in the day and packed all of Eli’s fresh shirts back into his dresser like the thoughtful father he was.
Thoughtful, yet undoubtedly perverted—because Eli had it all figured out. Derek liked the jersey because he liked the scent. But more than anything, Derek liked smelling himself and his son mixed together in the afterglow of a really good orgasm, especially when he thought that nobody else would ever see him do it. But now that Eli knew, he planned on giving his dad exactly what he wanted—just, with a little more added steps for the fun of it.