Work Text:
Chapter 1
Jayce thinks, fake ID. And then he thinks, fuck it. He just looks young for his age. So he says nothing at all, only grabs the boy by his waist, makes it clear his intentions with the pretty little thing. The boy gives him a wolfish grin. “I thought you’d never ask,” he teases.
Oh, Jayce is going to have so much fun with him. “Follow me?” He beckons. The boy does, and the immediate obeisance goes straight to his dick.
Jayce feels punch-drunk, lovestruck. The boy is so, so beautiful. The most beautiful thing he’s seen since Mel on their wedding day. He deserves better than the backseat of Jayce’s beat-up old Chevy. He deserves the world.
Jayce does not have the world; had tried but couldn’t hold it in his hands. All he has is his pickup truck and too many glasses of whiskey in his stomach, and this boy is the moon and stars. Jayce just wants to hold him.
He throws the boy over his shoulder as they span the last few feet to his truck, too impatient for the pace they were keeping. He squeals with laughter and teases, “Oh no, mister, please don’t take me!” Jayce pinches him on the ass in retribution, which only serves to draw more peals of laughter from his sinful mouth.
He flings the door open with one hand and then tosses his soon-to-be-lover onto the backseat as gracefully as he can manage drunk and so, so turned on.
Jayce wants to taste him so bad his teeth hurt.
“Fuck,” Jayce says, “I don’t even know your name.”
“Call me V,” the boy whispers.
“V,” Jayce murmurs back, rolling the letter around on his tongue like a swirl of cotton candy. “Can I touch you, V?”
“Please,” he breathes.
Jayce gets a hand in his skin-tight jeans as soon as the sound leaves his lips, pleased to find the boy already wet in his underwear.
“Already wet?” Jayce asks, fake-stern. “Whore.”
V moans, and it’s heaven to his ears. “Fuck,” he pants. “Yeah. Say it again.”
“Whore?” Jayce questions, faux-innocent. V huffs, clearly affected by the term.
“Again.”
“Whore,” Jayce says more forcefully. “Slut. Little fuck toy.”
“Oh, fuck!” V gasps as a rush of slick pours out of his hole, thoroughly soaking his briefs.
Jayce is many things. Patient is not one of them.
He yanks V’s jeans and underwear down to the top of his leg brace, fully palming his pussy as soon as it’s exposed to the chill air of the truck’s cab. V twitches in his grasp, his hips bucking and seeking friction.
“Greedy,” Jayce scolds.
“Touch me,” V begs, shameless. “Please.”
How could Jayce deny such a sweet request? He slides his fingers through his wetness before he begins rubbing his puffy clit, already hard and straining.
“Oh God,” V sobs. “Yes.”
He’s so talkative. Jayce feels like he’s won the fucking lottery.
“Inside,” the boy demands. “Now. Please. Need to feel you.”
Jayce slides one finger into his wet heat immediately, surprised at how easily it slips in. “God, you really are a whore,” Jayce says, hardly knowing where this side of him is coming from. “So easy for me.”
“Yes, yes,” V nods, breathless, as Jayce adds a second finger. He fucks in and out of his cunt slowly, savoring the feeling of the boy’s tight heat fluttering around him. Jayce knows he’s not going to last long, the way he’s squirming and panting, and he can’t help but smile. Such a sweet little thing.
He starts fucking the boy more forcefully with his fingers, earning him a little punched-out sound from his lover.
“Fuck,” V pants. “Daddy.” The word comes out small and quiet, like a secret told before its owner was ready. It hits Jayce like an elbow to the solar plexus.
He thinks, Oh my God, I’m old enough to be this kid’s father. And then, fuck.
“Yeah, baby,” he murmurs. “I’ll be your daddy. Whatever you want.”
V whines, the sound music to Jayce’s ears. “Yeah?” He says, and fuck, his eyes are wet. “Daddy?”
“Yes,” Jayce confirms as he adds a third finger to his tight, wet heat, flicking his clit with his thumb. “I’m your daddy.”
He feels it the moment V starts to cum, doesn’t need the boy to tell him, but he appreciates it nonetheless for how fucking cute it is. “Fuck, Daddy, I’m coming!” the sweetest words Jayce has ever heard in his 44 years on Earth.
“Good boy,” he praises. “Cum for Daddy.”
V cums beautifully, trembling and shivering and whimpering around Jayce’s fingers buried in his cunt. Jayce feels like a wild animal as he slowly removes his fingers from the boy’s dripping hole and sucks them into his mouth, lovingly licking the slick from his fingertips with a groan.
“God, that’s hot,” the boy pants. “Kiss me?” He asks, gossamer sweet.
Who is Jayce to deny him? He helps the boy slide his pants back up before he leans in, finally capturing his lips with his own. His lips are soft and chapped, plush. He tastes like cinnamon and cola. Jayce is hooked immediately.
The boy is inexperienced, and it shows in the clacking of their teeth, but God, Jayce doesn’t fucking care. Like this, baby, Jayce says with a tilt of his head that V follows. V bites his lip with a sharp tooth, and Jayce is suddenly extremely aware of just how hard his cock is. He ruts up against the boy’s core like a horny teenager, unable to stop himself as he deepens their kiss.
Jayce slips his thigh between V’s to give them both a better angle for friction, a soft moan coming from the boy’s lips when Jayce presses against his hot core with the hard muscle of his leg.
They frot against each other like wild animals, and Jayce knows he’s dangerously close to coming in his pants like a kid. He finds he doesn’t care, doesn’t have the energy to be embarrassed. He’s rutting his cock against the most beautiful creature he’s ever beheld—of course, he’s going to cum fast.
“Fuck, baby,” he pants against V’s lips. “You’re gonna make Daddy cum.”
V bucks his hips sharply, a moan escaping his mouth. “Cum, Daddy,” he murmurs, and Jayce is lost entirely.
He hurtles over the edge like a comet, his orgasm ripping through him like a supernova as he shakes against the boy. V is whimpering and moaning like a kitten and Jayce wants to devour him whole, wants to spoil him, wants to give him everything. He breathes into his clavicle as he comes down from his high, chuckling softly to himself that he just came in his pants for the first time in over twenty years.
He sits up after what seems an eternity, uncomfortably adjusting his softening dick in his jeans. The boy gives him a winning smile. Jayce just has to kiss him about it.
“Let me give you a ride home?” Jayce offers.
V shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t,” Jayce sighs. “I want to.”
“Thanks… Daddy,” V says with a wink. “But seriously, no, I brought my own car.”
“If you’re sure…” Jayce trails off.
“I’m sure,” he says. “But thanks.”
Jayce watches him walk back into the bar with a little swagger in his step. He feels, absurdly, like he’s watching his whole world walk away from him and shakes his head to rid himself of the thought. He’s always been a sappy drunk, Mel used to tease him about it relentlessly. “You fall a little in love with everyone you meet,” she used to say.
He hates how true it is.
Chapter 2
Jayce breathes out a heavy sigh of relief when he hears his bedroom door click shut. He throws an arm over his eyes and groans, rolling onto his stomach.
He’s half-hard in his boxers already. He inhales shakily, pressing his nose into the place where Viktor had left little spots of sweat while he slept. The musk of it makes him nearly growl, a potpourri of raging teenage hormones.
God, maybe he really is a pedophile, if the scent of Viktor’s teenage boy sweat is making him this fucking horny.
He starts rutting against the bed like he’s little more than a teenager himself, remembering the way Viktor’s hot little body had felt against his outside The Last Drop.
He hates himself so much it makes his stomach hurt.
That does not stop him from getting up on his knees a little bit so he can reach a hand into his boxers to grasp his aching cock while still keeping his nose firmly buried in the pool of Viktor’s sweat.
Just this once and then never again, he promises as he begins stroking his cock hard and fast. He thinks about the way Viktor had called him “Daddy” that night, the word slipping from his lips like a prayer, and squeezes himself harder.
He thinks about the way Viktor’s cunt had felt clenching around his fingers, the way he came so hard he seemed surprised by it.
He thinks, I didn’t know his age then, so it’s okay to remember it.
His breaths coming in short, harsh pants, he thinks about the way Viktor had begged to be kissed.
He thinks about the way Viktor had tensed up and then released, slick gushing out of his hole, when Jayce called him names. He jerks himself faster, chasing his release.
He thinks, I didn’t mean it. He liked it. It’s okay. I’ll never say it again.
But when he comes, he thinks about the way Viktor had cried “Daddy” last night as he flew into his arms, bottom lip wobbly and big eyes filled with tears. As he adds his cum to the mess of Viktor’s sweat on the bedsheets, he thinks about the way Viktor had finally, finally stopped trembling when Jayce kissed the shell of his ear, whispering “You’re safe” for the dozenth time.
He rolls onto his back with a huff, away from the mess of his shame. He’s a terrible foster father. He should call Caitlyn immediately, confess everything to her, have Viktor placed with somebody better, somebody safer, somebody that doesn’t know how he tastes.
But. But.
That’s just the thing, isn’t it? Jayce has heard the horror stories. He knows how terrible some foster fathers can be. And Viktor is so beautiful…
Yes, it probably is safest for Viktor here. Jayce knows he will never hurt Viktor, will never touch Viktor again, will never do anything against his express wishes. If Viktor were to be placed somewhere else, Jayce couldn’t ensure his safety, his virtue. It’s for the best for Viktor that Jayce does not say anything to Caitlyn about their previous meeting.
He sighs, shaking his head as he strips the bed to throw the sheets and blankets in the wash. He decides, after a moment’s deliberation, not to wash the pillowcase Viktor had slept on. Nobody has to know, he thinks.
Chapter 3
Jayce breathes out a heavy sigh of relief when he hears his bedroom door click shut. He throws an arm over his eyes and groans, rolling onto his stomach.
He’s half-hard in his boxers already. He inhales shakily, pressing his nose into the place where Viktor had left little spots of sweat while he slept. The musk of it makes him nearly growl, a potpourri of raging teenage hormones.
God, maybe he really is a pedophile, if the scent of Viktor’s teenage boy sweat is making him this fucking horny.
He starts rutting against the bed like he’s little more than a teenager himself, remembering the way Viktor’s hot little body had felt against his outside The Last Drop.
He hates himself so much it makes his stomach hurt.
That does not stop him from getting up on his knees a little bit so he can reach a hand into his boxers to grasp his aching cock while still keeping his nose firmly buried in the pool of Viktor’s sweat.
Just this once and then never again, he promises as he begins stroking his cock hard and fast. He thinks about the way Viktor had called him “Daddy” that night, the word slipping from his lips like a prayer, and squeezes himself harder.
He thinks about the way Viktor’s cunt had felt clenching around his fingers, the way he came so hard he seemed surprised by it.
He thinks, I didn’t know his age then, so it’s okay to remember it.
His breaths coming in short, harsh pants, he thinks about the way Viktor had begged to be kissed.
He thinks about the way Viktor had tensed up and then released, slick gushing out of his hole, when Jayce called him names. He jerks himself faster, chasing his release.
He thinks, I didn’t mean it. He liked it. It’s okay. I’ll never say it again.
But when he comes, he thinks about the way Viktor had cried “Daddy” last night as he flew into his arms, bottom lip wobbly and big eyes filled with tears. As he adds his cum to the mess of Viktor’s sweat on the bedsheets, he thinks about the way Viktor had finally, finally stopped trembling when Jayce kissed the shell of his ear, whispering “You’re safe” for the dozenth time.
He rolls onto his back with a huff, away from the mess of his shame. He’s a terrible foster father. He should call Caitlyn immediately, confess everything to her, have Viktor placed with somebody better, somebody safer, somebody that doesn’t know how he tastes.
But. But.
That’s just the thing, isn’t it? Jayce has heard the horror stories. He knows how terrible some foster fathers can be. And Viktor is so beautiful…
Yes, it probably is safest for Viktor here. Jayce knows he will never hurt Viktor, will never touch Viktor again, will never do anything against his express wishes. If Viktor were to be placed somewhere else, Jayce couldn’t ensure his safety, his virtue. It’s for the best for Viktor that Jayce does not say anything to Caitlyn about their previous meeting.
He sighs, shaking his head as he strips the bed to throw the sheets and blankets in the wash. He decides, after a moment’s deliberation, not to wash the pillowcase Viktor had slept on. Nobody has to know, he thinks.
Viktor is almost certain he stays wet throughout dinner with Jayce, the man as kind and doting and devastastingly handsome as ever. He practically begged for an early night on account of the long day so he could get back to his room and touch himself; leaving the dinner table felt akin to an escape. He thinks about the way Jayce had held him at the farmer’s market as he fell apart and breathes heavily, sliding his soaked boxer briefs down his thighs.
The first brush of his fingers against his clit has his hips jerking on the bed, a soft moan falling past his parted lips. He remembers the way Jayce had called him son, had called him his. “That’s my son,” he’d said. “That’s my fucking son.” Viktor’s breaths are coming hot and heavy as he begins rubbing his clit faster, knows he’s not going to last long the way he’s been keyed up ever since he saw Jayce in those God damn shorts.
His mind flashes, unbidden, to the way he’d pressed his chest into Jayce’s hand for just a moment in the dressing room, wild and wanton. He brings his own hands to his chest to rub his palms against his pert nipples, discomfort curling around his ribs. He thinks of the rough slide of Jayce’s calloused palm, and does not stop.
Viktor plucks each nipple between his thumb and forefinger before rolling them around. He moans, shocked at the sensation. He does it again, electricity racing through his body.
Abandoning his right nipple in favor of his clit, he begins chasing his release in earnest, his brain stuck on a loop of Jayce’s voice saying “my son, my son.”
He moans long and loud as he cums, hoping Jayce can hear it—hoping his Daddy can hear it.
Chapter 13
“What,” he says, voice dangerously calm, “the fuck.”
Viktor grins, lazy and unrepentant. Jayce wants to kiss that grin right off his face. “It’s good shit. Want some?”
Jayce snatches the joint from his fingers. “Are you serious—”
“It’s medicinal,” Viktor insists, waving a hand. “For my… nerves.”
“Your nerves.” Jayce pinches the bridge of his nose. “Viktor. You’re sixteen.”
“And you’re old,” Viktor giggles, reaching for the joint. “Come on, Dad. Live a little.”
And Jayce—
Jayce should have been furious. Should have dragged Viktor out of the truck by his hoodie and grounded him until graduation.
But—
But. Viktor was smiling, eyes hazy, pupils blown wide, and Jayce is a weak, weak man.
He snatches the joint back from Viktor, takes a drag.
Viktor’s grin only widens. “Knew you’d cave.”
Jayce exhales sharply, coughing. “Shut up.”
“Make me,” Viktor singsongs, leaning his head back against the seat.
Jayce stares at him—at the long line of his throat, the way his lips curve around the words—and wants.
He takes another hit and then throws the joint to the asphalt, stubbing it out with the heel of his boot.
“Alright, stoney,” he says. “Up you get. Time to go inside.”
“Fiiiiiiine,” Viktor whines, and Jayce—
Jayce is a bad man, for the way his cock twitches in his jeans.
Then Viktor is standing and stumbling. Jayce sighs as Viktor sways dangerously on the truck’s running board, giggling as he misses his footing entirely.
“Alright, come here,” Jayce mutters, sliding an arm under Viktor’s knees and behind his back before lifting him effortlessly against his chest.
Viktor makes a soft, surprised noise, his arms looping around Jayce’s neck as he’s hoisted up. “Whoa. Strong.” His breath is warm against Jayce’s collarbone, tinged with the herbal scent of weed.
He wraps his long legs around Jayce’s waist, and Jayce swallows hard.
“Shut up,” Jayce grumbles, kicking the truck door shut behind them.
Viktor is silent as they walk back to the house, lips grazing the stubble on Jayce’s jawline. Jayce knows he should—adjust, make this position a little less damning for the both of them, but, God, Viktor’s lips against his skin feel so good.
Viktor keeps rhythmically squeezing his thighs, squirming in Jayce’s hold, and it’s only when they get to the living room that Jayce realizes Viktor is grinding on him.
And Jayce—Jayce knows he should set this boundary. Knows he should set Viktor on his feet, should tell him in no uncertain terms why this sort of thing isn’t okay.
But he’s so tired, and so stoned, and Viktor is so warm in his arms, and—
Isn’t it okay, if he lets Viktor have this? If he lets Viktor use his body to take his pleasure? He’s not—he’s not touching. He’s still not touching, not how he wants to—
Jayce says nothing as he leans Viktor against the wall, pressing his hip more firmly into his warm, wet, aching center.
Viktor gasps, and Jayce wants to kiss the sound from his lips.
He could cry when Viktor starts grinding against him in earnest, little “ah, ah, ah”s escaping his parted lips as he chases his release.
Still, Jayce says nothing— vows to say nothing, to remain nothing but a bystander to the hottest thing he’s ever witnessed in his life.
He squeezes Viktor tighter, pulling him closer still.
Viktor chokes as his hips stutter, and fuck, Jayce can feel how wet he is through their clothes.
“Please—” Viktor chokes. “Daddy—”
And Jayce knows he promised not to speak, but Viktor’s begging, and this has to be hell on his back, and—
“Good boy,” Jayce murmurs, voice rough.
“Fuck,” Viktor whispers, and then his whole body locks up in Jayce’s arms, and Jayce knows he’s coming; knows he’s, fuck, he’s coming for his Daddy—
Jayce is so hard his cock aches.
He presses his body into Viktor’s, just to hear him gasp as another wave of pleasure overtakes him.
“Dad,” he whimpers, soft and secret.
God, Jayce loves him.
Viktor pants against his neck as he comes down from his orgasm, and Jayce can feel the moment shame starts to set in.
“Hey, hey,” he murmurs. “None of that. It’s okay. It’s all okay. You did so good for me, Viktor, look at me—”
Viktor does, and fuck, his eyes are filled with tears.
“Don’t cry,” Jayce says. “You’re perfect.”
Viktor drops his forehead to Jayce’s shoulder with a shuddering breath.
“Carry me to bed?”
“Yeah, kid, of course.” Anything, he doesn’t say. Anything you want, I’m yours. I’m all yours.
Chapter 14
Viktor stops breathing.
“You’re right,” Jayce says softly. “I’m not magic.” He taps the signature line—already filled out in his looping scrawl. “But I am your Dad. Or—” His voice wavers, just slightly. “I will be, if you’ll let me”
The world narrows to the papers between them, to the weight of what they mean.
Permission. Permanence. A name that was truly his.
Viktor’s hands shake as he reaches for them.
“Asshole,” he whispers, voice thick. “You couldn’t have led with that?”
Jayce grins, bright and relieved. “Where’s the drama in that?”
Viktor punches him in the shoulder as hard as he can—then yanks him into a hug so tight it hurts.
Jayce holds on just as tight, kissing the top of Viktor’s head over and over again. “So that’s a yes?” Jayce murmurs.
“Of course, you idiot,” Viktor mumbles. “You’re my Dad.”
Jayce kisses him again, on the forehead this time. He lets his lips linger against Viktor’s skin before pulling away, and Viktor—Viktor snaps.
He shoots his head up. Before Jayce can pull away completely, Viktor fists both his hands in his shirt and yanks him down, down, down. Their mouths crash together in a mess of teeth and stifled gasps. Jayce freezes for one terrifying second—long enough that Viktor’s stomach drops with regret—until suddenly, strong hands are cradling his face, tilting him up, as Jayce kisses back with equal fervor.
The adoption papers flutter to the floor, forgotten, as Jayce walks Viktor backward until his hips hit the kitchen counter. Viktor can feel the rapid thud of Jayce’s heartbeat where their chests press together, can taste the coffee and mint on his tongue. When they finally break apart, both panting, Jayce rests their foreheads together.
“Viktor,” he breathes, voice wrecked. “We can’t—”
“Don’t,” Viktor interrupts, fingers tightening in Jayce’s shirt. “Don’t tell me this is wrong. Not when you look at me like that.”
Jayce’s thumb traces Viktor’s cheekbone, his expression torn between wonder and guilt. “I’m supposed to be your father.”
“You’re supposed to love me,” Viktor corrects. “However that looks.”
The silence stretches between them, heavy with possibility. Jayce just—looks at him, and god, what Viktor wouldn’t give to be privy to the gears turning in his mind right about now.
After what feels like a lifetime, he mutters, “Fuck it.” And then Viktor is being hoisted up onto the counter, legs falling open open open for Jayce, for his Dad, his—his Daddy—
Viktor moans deep in his throat when Jayce captures his lips with his own in a searing kiss, grasping his jaw with one hand and threading through the hair at the nape of his neck with the other.
He tilts Viktor’s head back so he can lick deep into his mouth, and Viktor is gone. He wraps his legs around Jayce’s waist, drawing him closer closer closer never close enough—
Viktor whimpers when he feels Jayce’s hard cock pressing against him through their jeans. His hips buck up into Jayce, and Jayce grinds down, and Viktor moans, loud and wanton.
Jayce does it again.
Then—
He wraps his arm around Viktor’s waist, pulling him tight against his body, lips right near his ear.
“Come on, Viktor, baby, do it, take what you need, for me, for Daddy—”
“Oh, fuck—”
Viktor feels slick pooling in his underwear as he starts grinding against the bulge in Jayce’s pants, knows he’s not gonna last long—
“Viktor,” Jayce murmurs, soft and devastating.
He starts bucking his hips faster, so fast it’s starting to hurt his back, his leg—but he doesn’t care. There’s no force in heaven or on earth that could pull him from Jayce’s arms, from the warmth of his breath, from the cedar smell of his aftershave.
Viktor’s orgasm rushes through his body like a mountain stream, and Jayce pets his hair through it, whispering. “Such a good boy,” he murmurs. “You’ve done so well for Daddy.”
“Daddy,” Viktor replies, unable to say anything else.
Jayce lets him lean against his chest, panting, for what feels like an eternity, long enough for Viktor to start to feel uncomfortable with the slick cooling in his panties. “Um, Jayce?” He whispers.
Jayce lets out a shuddering breath. “Yeah, kid?”
“Will you carry me to bed?”
And Jayce sighs, but Viktor smiles, because he knows now that Jayce will never say no to him. Not for anything in the world.
Chapter 15
VIKTOR:
Hey. miss you
JAYCE:
You’re drunk
VIKTOR:
No i’m not
VIKTOR:
Ok maybe a little
VIKTOR:
But I still miss you
JAYCE:
You’re supposed to be having fun with your friends.
VIKTOR:
It’s more fun when you’re here
VIKTOR:
Come back
VIKTOR:
Please
JAYCE:
Viktor.
VIKTOR:
JAYCE
VIKTOR:
Why do you say my name like that
VIKTOR:
All serious and deep
VIKTOR:
It does Things to me
JAYCE:
You’re going to regret this in the morning, kid
VIKTOR:
Love it when you call me kid
VIKTOR:
Sorry
VIKTOR:
No i’m not
VIKTOR:
Do you miss me too
JAYCE:
Yes.
VIKTOR:
Say it again
JAYCE:
I miss you, Viktor.
VIKTOR:
Come get me :(
JAYCE:
Go to sleep, kid.
VIKTOR:
Make me :p
JAYCE:
If I was there, I would.
Viktor’s breath hitches. His thumbs shake where they hover over the keyboard.
VIKTOR:
How?
JAYCE:
I’d make you a warm mug of hot chocolate and tuck you in.
Viktor rubs his thighs together where he sits on the couch. Fuck, but he’s horny— his libido increased from the testosterone almost immediately.
VIKTOR:
Liar
VIKTOR:
You would stay and talk to me
VIKTOR:
You’d sit on my bed n run your fingers through my hair
VIKTOR:
You would say my name again
JAYCE:
Viktor.
VIKTOR:
😳
VIKTOR:
Okay now I’m flustered
VIKTOR:
This is your fault
Jayce is typing for a whole two minutes before he finally gets a response.
JAYCE:
What would you like me to do about it?
Viktor gasps. Is Jayce—is Jayce sexting him? God—Viktor doesn’t care if he is or not, too tipsy and worked up to not make his way to the bathroom as quietly as he can, so as not to wake his friends.
VIKTOR:
I think you know what I’d like you to do
VIKTOR:
The t horniness is no joke
Viktor holds his breath as he perches himself on the edge of the bathtub, slipping a hand into his sleep shorts immediately to find himself already soaking through his briefs.
JAYCE:
Yeah, I remember being a teenage boy.
Viktor groans, imagining Jayce as a horny teenage boy. Wishing they had met then.
VIKTOR:
Tell me about it
And to Viktor’s eternal surprise, Jayce does.
JAYCE:
I couldn’t jack off enough. Had a friend whose older brother we stole Playboys from.
JAYCE:
God, I loved those Playboys
VIKTOR:
Playboy lol
VIKTOR:
You’re so old
JAYCE:
Careful, V, or I’ll go to bed
VIKTOR:
Noooooooo please keep talking to me
JAYCE:
Then behave.
Viktor bites his lip against a moan, rubbing and pinching his clit between his thumb and forefinger.
VIKTOR:
Yes daddy
It takes five minutes for Jayce’s next reply to come in.
JAYCE:
Good boy
VIKTOR:
Call me
VIKTOR:
I hate typing with one hand
Viktor holds his breath, expecting Jayce to tell him no.
Instead, his phone lights up with Jayce’s contact photo—a blurry one of him grinning in a party hat next to their telescope.
“Viktor,” Jayce breathes as soon as he picks up.
“Hi,” Viktor whispers back.
“What are you doing?”
Viktor huffs out a quiet laugh. “I think you know.”
“Yeah,” Jayce murmurs, his voice like honey in Viktor’s ear. “But I’d like to hear you say it.”
“Jayce,” Viktor whines. “Don’t make me say it.”
“If you don’t say it, I’ll hang up.”
“You are evil.” Viktor pouts, even though Jayce can’t see him. “Fine. I’m touching myself. Are you happy?”
“Extremely.” Viktor hears the rustle of fabric in the background.
“Are you?” He blurts.
“Am I what?” Jayce asks, sounding genuinely confused.
Viktor’s cheeks burn. “...You know.”
“No, I don’t,” Jayce lies.
“Dad…”
“Say it, baby.”
“Fuck. Areyoutouchingyourselftoo?” He says the words in a rush, like if he gives them room to breathe, they’ll grow teeth and bite him.
“Would you like me to be?”
“I—what?”
“This is about helping you, not me. Would you like me to be touching myself?”
Viktor is so flustered that he can barely speak. “Um. Uh. Yeah.”
“Yeah, baby,” Jayce admits. “I am.”
“Fuck,” Viktor whispers softly, with feeling.
“Do you like that?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, who?”
Viktor pinches his clit between his fingers hard when he corrects himself. “Yes, Daddy,” voice cracking on the second syllable.
“That’s my boy,” Jayce says, breathing heavily. “There’s my good boy.”
Viktor whines, the sound far too loud for the small bathroom in the middle of the night.
“Quiet, V,” Jayce warns. “Don’t wanna get caught talking to your old man like this.”
“Jesus, Dad,” Viktor huffs. “Why won’t you just—”
“Fuck you already?” Jayce finishes.
“Yes.”
Jayce’s voice shakes slightly when he says, “Awh, baby. Even your froggie raincoat is too big for you. How could you think you could take Daddy’s cock?”
“Fuck!” Viktor clenches his legs tight around his hand as a wave of pleasure rolls through him, his orgasm looming.
Jayce chuckles. “You close, baby?”
“Bastard. Yes.”
“Good.”
“Tell me—” Viktor pants. “Tell me how you’d fuck me. Please. It’s just pretend. Please.”
His dad lets out a shuddering breath on the other line. “Viktor…” He cautions.
“Dad, please. It hurts.”
Jayce sighs, mutters, “I’m going to hell” under his breath.
“I’d take my time getting you ready, V, of course I would. Eat you out for no less than an hour, until you’re begging for just a finger.” Viktor starts rubbing his clit harder, closing his eyes against the pleasure Jayce’s words bring. “I’d open you up with my fingers, make you cum for me once or twice before I finally give you my cock.”
“Fuck,” Viktor whimpers, so close there’s tears in his eyes. “Daddy.”
“Cum for me, V,” Jayce orders. “Cum for Daddy.”
And what can Viktor do, but cum? Every muscle in his body tensing, eyes shut tight, phone clenched in his hand, Jayce’s harsh breathing in his ear as he brings himself to his own release.
“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” he babbles, the dam broken.
“Say it again,” Jayce pleads. “Please, baby, say it again.”
“You’re my Daddy,” Viktor whispers into the phone. “I love you, Daddy.”
Jayce groans quietly as he cums, and Viktor wishes more than anything he were there to see it. The words slip out before he can catch them: “Wish I could see.”
“Fuck, kid,” Jayce pants. “Someday.”
And Viktor knows Jayce didn’t mean to say it, even without the hitch in his breath. That doesn’t stop the hopeful fluttering of his heart nor the swooping in his stomach at the promise of someday, maybe, one day.
They’re quiet for a few moments, just breathing into the phone, until Jayce says, “Get some sleep, sweetheart.”
“Yeah,” Viktor murmurs back. “You too. See you tomorrow.”
“Today,” Jayce corrects, and Viktor smiles.
“Today,” he agrees, hanging up.
He’s wearing the tiniest shorts he owns, with no underwear, and a matching tiny tank top, no sports bra or binder. He leans against the doorframe to Jayce’s bedroom, giving him his saddest baby kitten eyes, and watches in delight as Jayce’s pupils rapidly dilate as they take in the sight before him.
“Bad night, kiddo?” Jayce asks, voice gruff. God, that “kiddo” goes straight to his clit. He feels slick pooling in his tiny shorts.
“Yeah,” he sniffles, even rubbing his eye with one fist for good measure.
Jayce melts like butter.
“Come here, baby,” he murmurs, opening the blankets for Viktor to slide in beside him.
Viktor does, gratefully, curling into his side like he belongs there.
“You wanna talk, or do you just wanna try and sleep?” Jayce asks, winding an arm around Viktor’s waist.
“Just sleep,” Viktor whispers back. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Alright. Goodnight, Vik. Wake me if you need anything.”
Oh, I will, Viktor thinks, hiding his smile in the curve of Jayce’s neck.
“I will,” he says, as meakly as he can manage with the way his clit is throbbing, begging to be touched.
He waits for Jayce’s breathing to even back out into sleep before enacting the next phase of his plan—and it’s only half a plan, really, he doesn’t think he’d be able to keep from touching himself if he tried, now, not with Jayce’s arm around him like this, the heady scent of him overloading Viktor’s senses.
He slowly creeps a hand down his body, in between where he and Jayce are pressed together, finds himself completely soaked through his shorts. He wonders if Jayce could smell the arousal on him.
He hopes he could.
Viktor has to bite his lip to keep from crying out when he finally gets his fingers on his cock, and, god, Dr. Alvarez was not kidding when she said nighttime erections. His clit is so hard it almost hurts to touch it, so sensitive the pleasure is veering closely to pain.
He rubs his clit slowly at first, just a light touch to the sides, imagines it’s Jayce teasing him. A shudder travels through his body, and he has to bite back a moan.
He breathes in deeply, inhaling Jayce’s scent, and touches his clit head-on. The pleasure is overwhelming, a lightning strike in the center of his legs, and he can’t contain a whimper.
Jayce wakes to the soft sounds of Viktor crying, and his heart aches for his sweet boy. Trying so hard to be strong, to be put together, when he doesn’t need to be—when this bedroom is the one place on earth he can utterly fall apart and know that Jayce will always be there to put him back together.
Jayce tries to stay still, tries to keep his breathing even—he will give Viktor this space to cry unperceived.
Viktor is breathing heavily now as he rubs his clit, remembering the relentless way Jayce had fingered him so many years ago outside The Last Drop. His senses are utterly overloaded with Jayce— his scent wrapped around him, the warmth of his skin beneath his lips, the knowledge that Viktor is getting off while Jayce sleeps, unaware, right next to him.
Jayce is trying so, so hard to give Viktor the space and privacy to cry it out without his big dumb Dad trying to make it better. But oh, when Viktor’s breath catches on a sob, trying to be quiet, he can’t hold back anymore.
Jayce shifts slightly in his sleep, and Viktor speeds up his ministrations, wanting—he doesn’t know what he wants, actually, hadn’t thought much farther than Jerking Off In His Dad’s Bed While He Sleeps And Then Maybe Hopefully Something Great Will Happen.
He’s reaching for him when he notices Viktor’s hand moving furiously between their bodies, working his clit inside those tiny, sinful fucking shorts designed to make Jayce lose his fucking mind.
Jayce’s heart is in his throat as he listens to his son get himself off, the whole bed shaking slightly—or maybe that’s just Jayce, straining every muscle in his body to not touch not touch not touch—
Daddy, Viktor wants to whimper. Dad. The words are heavy on his tongue, begging to be released. He works his fingers harder, faster—
Jayce feels the exact moment Viktor starts to cum—his whole body locks up beside Jayce’s in the bed, hand stilling. “Dad,” he whispers.
And Jayce is undone.
Viktor slides a hand out of his shorts, is bringing it up to his mouth to taste, when a strong hand grabs his wrist. He has to fight to remember not to smile, to pretend to be embarrassed and caught out.
“Dad—” he starts, and then is stunned into silence when Jayce brings his hand to his lips and sticks Viktor’s fingers in his mouth, still sleep-warm.
Jayce feels like a broken record, having told himself over and over that he’s a bad man and a worse father. But oh, how sweet his boy tastes—muskier and headier now with the testosterone, and Jayce feels crazed, wants more than anything to see this bottom growth Viktor won’t stop simultaneously complaining and exalting about.
“Dad,” Viktor breathes. “What are you doing?”
“Tasting,” Jayce replies, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
“But why?” Viktor presses, as if this isn’t the hottest thing he’s ever seen, as if he isn’t already ready for another orgasm.
‘But why,’ he asks. God, this sweet little thing.
“Why not?” Jayce responds, grinning as he sticks Viktor’s fingers back into his mouth. He bites the pads of his fingertips softly, testing, and Viktor moans.
Already his voice is a little deeper, and Jayce would be lying if he said it didn’t go straight to his cock that’s straining in his boxers.
Hook, line, and sinker, Viktor thinks with a grin as Jayce twines their fingers together, laying them on the sliver of bed between them.
“You’re out to kill me, kid,” Jayce says. Raw. Honest.
“Call me kid again, I’m close,” Viktor jokes—but it’s too real, too close to the truth, and they both know it in the way the silence falls between them.
Jayce thinks he might have died and gone to heaven. Or hell. Maybe he’s on the racks being tortured right now, actually.
Just this one more time, he thinks. I’ll help him out this one time and then never again.
Viktor shivers when Jayce kicks the blankets away from their legs. A complaint about the cold is on the tip of his tongue, but then Jayce grabs him and maneuvers him so Viktor is on top of him, straddling him, the thick bulge of Jayce’s cock pressing against his cunt, and Viktor stops thinking.
Viktor’s wetness immediately begins seeping through his shorts to Jayce’s boxers, and Jayce groans, throwing his head back into the pillows. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he pants. “Kid.”
Viktor moans, his legs locking up as Jayce calls him “kid” again. It’s his favorite thing Jayce calls him, second only to “baby.” He moans again when he feels Jayce’s big hands grip him by the waist, feels Jayce start to rock him back and forth on top of his cock. Viktor drives his hips down to meet him, pleasure sparking like a fire.
“That’s it, kid,” Jayce murmurs, voice strained. “Grind against me. Take what you need.”
Viktor doesn’t have to be told twice, immediately starts grinding on Jayce’s cock with such fervor his hip is starting to ache.
As soon as Jayce grants him permission, Viktor starts rutting against him like a wild animal, rubbing his clit against Jayce’s clothed cock. Jayce is painfully aware that only two flimsy, soaking-wet pieces of fabric separate them.
He knows exactly what his boy needs, and so he says, “Be a good boy for Daddy, baby. Make yourself cum.”
Viktor nods, too overcome to speak, tears in his eyes as he takes his pleasure from his Daddy like a good boy.
“So good for me, Vik,” Jayce coos. “Always doing as you’re told.”
Viktor shudders as Jayce’s words trickle down his spine like water, lighting him up, and he starts grinding his hips harder, faster, chasing his release, wanting more than anything to cum on his Daddy’s cock, or as close as he can get—
“I know, baby,” Jayce says, as if he can read his mind. “I know what you want. And I’m sorry I can’t give it to you.”
Viktor whines, shakes his head. I don’t want you to talk like that, he thinks but doesn’t say, the words stuck in his throat.
Jayce knows immediately that he’s made a wrong step. “I’m sorry, baby, Daddy’s sorry—I won’t talk like that, I’m sorry.”
Viktor calms down immediately, his sweet little pout evaporating as if it were never there.
Jayce misses the sight instantly.
Viktor is close, so close, and he thinks of all the things he’d like to say but can’t as he grinds his hips down down down— I love you and I want to be yours and Please, please, please.
Every muscle in Jayce’s body aches with how hard he’s straining not to move, to not ruin this, to let Viktor take his pleasure and no more; this isn’t about Jayce—
But then Viktor starts to cum, and Jayce thrusts up into his warm heat, and Viktor screams, and then Jayce is the wild animal, rutting up into Viktor.
When Jayce starts to thrust against him, Viktor is so happy he could cry—in fact, he thinks he does start to cry, tears leaking down his cheeks as he babbles, “Yes, yes, Daddy, please, take what you need, please—”
And Jayce—Jayce is many things. A father, a teacher, an engineer. A friend. An ex-husband. A lover of classic rock and show tunes. What he is not, however, is strong. Not in the face of the only dream he can ever remember having.
He grips Viktor’s waist harder, starts thrusting up into him so hard the boy is bouncing in his lap, would be liable to topple right off the bed if Jayce weren’t gripping him tightly.
“That’s it, Daddy,” Viktor echoes his words from before. “Cum for your baby.”
Jayce sees stars as he cums, staring right into Viktor’s golden eyes. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” he murmurs. “So, so beautiful. So handsome.”
Viktor whimpers, and Jayce feels a few more spurts of cum dribble out of his cock at the sound. Pathetic, he thinks. I’m pathetic.
That does not stop him from wrapping his arm around Viktor’s back and sitting up, from holding him close and kissing his face over and over again until he’s giggling and squealing about beard burn.
Viktor curls back into his side, spent and sated and so, so satisfied. He can feel the guilt and shame settling over Jayce like a blanket, and so he whispers, “It’s fine. It was a one-time thing. We don’t have to talk about it.”
“Right,” Jayce exhales in a rush. “Never again.”
Viktor wonders if Jayce even knows he’s lying.
Chapter 16
“God, Dad, you’re such a loser,” Viktor teases.
Jayce’s stomach does somersaults. He takes the joint back from Viktor and takes a much more modest hit, thankfully not coughing this time.
By the time they’re halfway through the joint, Jayce feels hazy and floaty and—and young. Like he has the whole world ahead of him. More like beside me, he thinks, gazing at Viktor, where he sits sprawled on the blanket next to Jayce. Then he laughs, because that was terribly corny.
Viktor laughs with him, then asks, “Wait. What are we laughing about?” Which only serves to make Jayce laugh harder.
Viktor makes grabby hands for the joint, and Jayce passes it back to him, is too far gone to play the responsible father, tonight, too young and joyful to tell him he’s had enough.
Jayce can’t look away from the sight of Viktor with his lips wrapped around the end of the joint, imagines how pretty his lips would look wrapped around his cock—
He shakes his head, trying to dispel the thought.
It does not work.
He’s half-hard in his jeans already.
Viktor finishes the joint, and Jayce should really have stopped him, but—not tonight. Tonight is magical, is wonderful, is the best date of Jayce’s life. Best not-date. Because this is not a date. He’s camping with his son.
Right.
Jayce blinks, and then he has a lapful of Viktor, all sprawling limbs and sly, stoned smile. “Hi Daddy,” he says, and Jayce feels his cock twitch.
Unfortunately, so does Viktor.
He giggles, looks delighted, then says: “Is that a telescope in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”
And Jayce knows he should push him off his lap, should set him gently back on the blanket beside him, should put a healthy distance between them. Should tell him and mean it, once and for all, that they can’t do this. What comes out of his mouth instead is, “I’m always happy to see you, baby.”
Viktor giggles again, the sound like twinkling windchimes. “So you’re always hard around me?”
No. Say no. Say no say no say no say no say no—
“Yes.”
Viktor bonks his forehead lightly against Jayce’s, huffing out a laugh against his lips.
Then—
A streak of white tears across the sky. Viktor gasps, fingers flying to grip Jayce’s wrist.
“Did you see—”
He watches in slow motion as Viktor climbs off his lap and tucks himself back into Jayce’s side, staring up at the sky with a wonderstruck expression on his sweet face.
Another flash of light. And another.
Jayce doesn’t look up. While the heavens shatter above them, he watches instead as each meteor paints Viktor’s face in fleeting silver—the curve of his lips parting in awe, the starlight catching in his eyelashes, the way his throat moves when he swallows.
Beautiful.
Falling.
And Jayce—Jayce wants, so badly it hurts. He wants to put his mouth on Viktor’s pretty little cunt, wants to get him off while he watches shooting stars.
He’s a terrible man and a worse father.
He should lay on the ground in front of the truck and let Viktor run him over for all the things he’s thinking about doing to him. For all the things he’s thought about doing to him, night after night after night. For the things he has done.
Viktor turns, still holding Jayce’s wrist, and finds him already looking.
Their faces are so close that Jayce could count the stars reflected in Viktor’s pupils.
“You’re missing it,” Viktor whispers.
Jayce’s free hand rises of its own accord, against his will, thumb brushing the corner of Viktor’s mouth—right where that damn mole lives. Viktor’s breath hitches.
“I’m not.”
Viktor’s grip on his wrist tightens.
Above them, the sky keeps burning.
Jayce, with a thousand alarm bells ringing in his head, can’t help but lean in, the soft huff of Viktor’s breath a magnet he’s powerless to resist.
Viktor doesn’t move away.
Their noses brush, and Jayce feels like giggling, feels like he’s the teenager, here.
A meteor explodes overhead with impossible brightness, casting their faces in sudden white light. They freeze.
The moment stretches between them like taffy, warm and sweet—and then it breaks.
Jayce pulls back just as Viktor turns his head toward the sky again, his pulse jumping in his throat, silence ringing in both their ears.
Then Viktor’s voice cuts through the silence, rough: “That one…that one was close.”
Jayce stares at his hands. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Close one.”
After what seems an eternity, Viktor finally releases Jayce’s wrist, fingers trailing just a second too long against his pulse point before pulling away.
Jayce exhales shakily, his thumb still tingling where it had brushed the mole above Viktor’s lip.
Another meteor streaks across the sky, and Viktor’s gaze is caught again, the Milky Way spread out before him like a King’s retinue.
Jayce can’t stop staring.
He sees the exact moment Viktor’s eyelids begin to droop, is anticipating it before the boy even yawns.
“Let’s hunker down for the night?” Jayce asks.
Viktor laughs. “‘Hunker down.’ You’re such a Dad sometimes.”
And Jayce—Jayce needed that reminder. That he’s Viktor’s father, not his boyfriend.
He keeps repeating it to himself like a mantra as he helps Viktor down out of the truck bed, as Viktor arranges the pillows with military precision, as the moonlight paints the sharp angles of his collarbones where his shirt has slipped down— I’m his father, not his boyfriend. I’m his father, not his boyfriend. I’m his father, not his—
“You’re staring again,” Viktor mutters, but there’s no bite to it.
Jayce gives him a shaky grin, tossing him an extra blanket. “Just making sure you don’t steal all the covers.”
Viktor catches it, their fingers brushing—just like they had an hour ago, just like they always seem to—and something unreadable flickers across his face before he tugs the blanket over his shoulders.
Jayce swallows hard and looks away.
Once Viktor is satisfied with their makeshift bed for the night, they settle side by side, shoulders pressed together, hips a careful inch apart. The quilt is too small, really, meant for one person, but neither of them mention it.
Viktor shifts, his knee bumping against Jayce’s. “Sorry.”
Jayce’s breath catches. “It’s fine.”
It is not fine. It’s agony.
It’s bliss.
“Hey,” Viktor says, producing his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. “Let’s take a selfie. Sam and Sky and Jinx will never believe I actually hiked up here, otherwise.”
Jayce blinks at him, half-drunk on starlight and Viktor’s nearness. “What?”
“A selfie,” Viktor repeats, as if Jayce is particularly slow. “To commemorate your terrible driving and my near-death experience.”
Jayce snorts but scoots even closer anyway, his shoulder pressing warm against Viktor’s as he leans into frame. The night air is crisp, smelling of pine and distant rain, and Viktor’s thigh is a solid line of heat against his own.
“Smile,” Viktor orders, angling the phone.
Jayce doesn’t—can’t—not when Viktor is this close, not when the moonlight turns his lashes to silver and his lips to something irresistible.
The flash goes off, and Jayce blinks.
Viktor frowns at the screen. “You look constipated.”
“I hate photos.”
“You look fine in all the ones Jinx takes of you,” Viktor counters, swiping through his saved photos as evidence. There’s Jayce bent over his workbench, Jayce trying to scowl at them the night they got stoned off their asses, Jayce asleep on the couch, Jayce mid-laugh at something stupid Jinx said—all stolen moments, all saved.
Jayce’s throat tightens. “This is different.”
Viktor glances up, eyes dark in the low light. “How?”
Because you’re the one taking it, Jayce doesn’t say.
“One more,” Viktor decides, lifting the phone again. “Though I am definitely sending this to the group chat tomorrow when we get down the mountain.”
This time, Jayce turns his head just as the countdown starts, his nose brushing Viktor’s temple.
Viktor freezes.
The shutter clicks.
On screen, they’re a blur of motion—Jayce’s lips parted like he’s about to speak, Viktor’s eyes wide and startled, the stars a dizzying spill behind them.
Perfect.
Viktor doesn’t show him the photo, and Jayce doesn’t ask to see it.
They both know what it captures—the almost, the nearly, the not yet.
The quilt rustles as Viktor tucks his phone away and settles back, his shoulder a brand against Jayce’s.
Above them, the sky keeps burning.
The mountain air grows colder as the night deepens, the kind of cold that seeps into your bones and stays there. Viktor shivers, just once, a full-body tremor Jayce feels more than sees.
Without thinking—without even breathing— Jayce lifts his arm, and Viktor immediately scoots closer, tucking himself against Jayce’s side, his head coming to rest on Jayce’s shoulder.
Jayce’s arm settles around him, fingers splaying across Viktor’s ribs like they were always meant to be there.
Viktor sighs, warm against Jayce’s neck.
Jayce closes his eyes, imagines he’s sixteen again, and he and Viktor are just two boys camping out under the stars.
“You’re warm,” Viktor murmurs, voice thick and sleepy.
Jyace hums, thumb rubbing absent circles against Viktor’s side. “And you’re cold.”
Viktor huffs a laugh, his breath ghosting over Jayce’s skin. “Astute observation.”
Jayce wants to say more—wants to say everything— but the words stick in his throat, heavy and impossible.
Instead, he presses his nose to the top of Viktor’s head, inhaling the scent of his shampoo—something clean and faintly citrusy—and lets himself have this. Just this.
Viktor has gone so silent and still, Jayce assumes he’s fallen asleep, until he whispers, “Hey Jayce?”
“Yeah, baby?” Jayce whispers back, the pet name escaping before he can catch it.
“I’m still cold. Get closer.”
“If we get any closer, we’ll be sharing skin.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Viktor counters, tilting his head up defiantly at the same time Jayce looks down.
Their noses brush.
Jayce holds his breath.
Viktor’s breath hitches, just once, before he surges forward.
The kiss is clumsy at first, all cold noses and too-sharp teeth, but then Jayce makes a wounded noise and responds, his hand sliding up to cradle Viktor’s jaw.
How could I deny him this? Jayce thinks. After everything, how could I deny him the softness of a kiss from someone who loves you?
Viktor melts into him, fingers twisting in Jayce’s sweater like he’s afraid he’ll float away otherwise.
Jayce’s hand slides from Viktor’s jaw into his hair, cradling the back of his head as he deepens the kiss. Viktor makes a soft, broken sound against his mouth, and Jayce swallows it whole.
He thinks, Just this, forever, please—just this, and nothing else.
The stars continue to burn overhead, beautiful and indifferent.
Jayce breaks the kiss first, his breathing ragged.
Viktor chases his lips for a second before stopping, his eyes fluttering open. They’re dark, pupils blown wide, his lips kiss-red and slightly parted.
Fuck, Jayce forgot how much this boy loves kissing.
Jayce stares at him, heart pounding.
Viktor stares back. “Don’t,” he whispers, fingers still twisted in Jayce’s sweater. “Don’t you dare apologize.”
Jayce swallows hard and lies. “I wasn’t going to.”
Viktor doesn’t let go. His fingers stay fisted in Jayce’s sweater, his breath warm against Jayce’s collarbone where he’s tucked himself under his chin. Jayce can feel the rapid flutter of Viktor’s pulse where their chests press together, a hummingbird heartbeat against his ribs.
The stars wheel overhead, apathetic to the way Jayce’s hands tremble where they rest on Viktor’s back.
He should say something.
He should pull away.
(He does neither.)
Instead, he kisses Viktor again. And again. And again. One thousand kisses for the most beautiful boy in the world, he thinks.
He starts trailing kisses down Viktor’s neck, the hollow of his throat, his collarbone—trying and failing to remember that he can’t leave a mark, that if Viktor were to come home from their camping trip with hickies, with bruises, they’d be dead meat.
He does not care as he softly bites the junction where his shoulder meets his neck—Viktor’s binder will hide it, anyway—and Viktor moans. Jayce is powerless not to suck a bruise into his skin, then, to hear the way his boy whimpers and squeals.
By the time Jayce comes up for air, Viktor’s shoulders and collarbone are littered with little bruises and love bites, and he’s thrusting his hips, grinding against nothing.
“Jayce, please,” he begs.
Jayce prays for the strength to tell him no.
“What is it, baby?” Jayce asks, voice rough.
“Touch me, touch me, please.”
Jayce slots his thigh between Viktor’s, presses it up against his wet center.
Viktor huffs. “Not enough.”
“This is all I can give you, baby, I’m sorry,” Jayce murmurs sadly.
“More, more,” Viktor pleads, the weed still coursing through his bloodstream, making him hazy and needy.
“I can’t, baby.”
“But you have before.”
And—there it is. Fully out in the open. The one thing they never talk about—the night they met.
“And I shouldn’t have.”
Viktor recoils like Jayce just slapped him.
No no no my sweet boy please—
“You regret it?” Viktor asks, voice thick with hurt.
“No,” Jayce breathes out. “Baby, no. Never. I just—”
“Then what?” Viktor challenges.
“Viktor, I’m really trying to be a good Dad here.”
“You’re the best Dad I could dream of,” Viktor answers immediately. Automatically.
“Good Dads don’t fuck their sons.”
Viktor whimpers. “Good Dads help their sons, especially when said son is so fucking horny it hurts from the testosterone you got him put on.”
“Viktor…”
“You did this to me, Jayce,” he says, wiggling his hips enticingly. “I’m a mess because of you.”
Jayce thinks, I’d love to make a mess of you, before he can stop the thought.
“Sweetheart…”
“I’ve had so much bottom growth in the past couple of months,” Viktor says, switching tactics. “Don’t you want to see?”
And, fuck, he really, really does.
“I can’t, Vik. You can’t show me.”
Viktor pouts and sighs and even thrashes his head a bit.
“You’re throwing such a fit, baby, it’s no wonder I can’t fuck you—you’re too young.” Jayce has no idea why he says this. He wants to throw himself into the nearest ravine. He probably should, all things considered.
Viktor lets out a strangled “hnnngh” noise as he starts grinding against the air again. “...Please, at least let me have your thigh, then,” he grumbles.
Jayce sighs, knowing there’s no scenario in which he wins. He slots his thigh between Viktor’s, pressing up into Viktor’s cunt, and Viktor keens, starts frantically thrusting his hips and whining.
“Oh, you really are desperate, aren’t you?” Jayce asks, unable to help himself.
“I wasn’t fucking kidding about being so horny it’s physically painful, Jayce,” Viktor huffs.
Jayce smiles and rolls them so Viktor is on top and can get more friction against his growing clit. This was the right move—Viktor’s eyes immediately roll back in his head as he lets out a long, loud moan. His nipples are hard through his t-shirt—no binder—and Jayce’s hands ache with the need to touch.
“Can you—” Viktor starts and then cuts himself off, looking shy.
“Can I what, baby?” Jayce asks, pressing his leg up to give Viktor more to grind down on.
“Hnngh,” Viktor pants. “Touch—touch my chest? Please. Fuck. Please, Daddy.” His voice cracks on the second syllable of “Daddy.” Jayce is so hard it hurts.
“I can’t—I said I wouldn’t touch you, baby, I can’t touch you—”
Viktor huffs and rolls his eyes. “Then imagine you’re checking me for breast cancer. I don’t care. Just touch me.” And then he’s sliding his shirt over his head and throwing it somewhere in the bed of the truck, and Jayce can’t look away, face-to-face with Viktor’s little tits. His hands come up to touch of their own volition.
Viktor’s tits are so small and Jayce’s hands are so large that he can completely cover them with just one hand—a realization that goes straight to his straining cock.
“Oh, fuck,” Viktor chokes out. “Your hands are so big.”
“Yeah,” Jayce breathes, dazed. He brushes his fingertips lightly over Viktor’s nipples, gauging his reaction. His boy squirms in his lap, pretty face flushing at the sensation.
“More,” Viktor begs.
“Ask nicely, baby,” Jayce croons. He doesn’t know what’s come over him, only knows the words coming out of his mouth make Viktor’s pupils dilate further and him bite his lip.
“P-pinch them,” he whispers. “Please?”
Jayce does, rolling the little rosy buds between his thumb and forefinger before pinching hard, twisting them just slightly. He’s rewarded with Viktor’s moan, loud and long, as he frantically ruts down onto Jayce’s thigh and begs for more.
“That day in the dressing room,” Viktor blurts. “I did it on purpose.”
“What?” Jayce asks, mind hazy as he watches Viktor react to every pinch and squeeze of his nipples.
“When I got stuck in the binder and you helped me and your hand brushed my—my tit,” he whispers. “I did it on purpose.”
Jayce groans. “Fuck, baby. You made Daddy feel so guilty.” He punctuates his sentence with a hard twist to Viktor’s nipples, making the boy cry out, tears beading at the corners of his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Viktor starts babbling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry; more, more.”
“More?” Jayce breathes, stunned.
“Harder,” Viktor confirms.
Jayce pinches his nipples as hard as he can, so hard his carpal tunnel twinges in his wrists. It’s more than worth it for the way Viktor throws his head back and howls, guttural and deep, as he cums. Jayce only releases his hold on the boy’s nipples once he starts to squirm away from Jayce’s touch, flushed and overstimulated.
Jayce is still catching his breath from finally touching Viktor’s little tits when—
“Let me?” Viktor asks, and then he’s brushing a hand over Jayce’s clothed cock without waiting for permission. Jayce bucks into his touch, hating himself for it.
“Baby, baby, no—” Jayce protests, but it sounds feeble even to his own ears.
“Come on, Daddy,” Viktor wheedles, pawing at his dick through his jeans, trying to get the zipper down. “Let me make you feel good on your birthday.”
“That’s—Viktor—that’s a line we can’t cross, that we definitely can’t cross—”
“Daddyyyyyy,” Viktor whines, dragging out the “ee” sound, pitching his voice higher. “Please?”
He even bats his fucking eyelashes, the little minx.
How is any man supposed to say no to this?
Jayce thinks for a moment. “You can’t—you can’t touch me, you can’t—” Viktor visibly deflates. “But you can…watch?”
What the fuck is he even saying?
Viktor immediately scrambles back to give Jayce room to get his cock out, bright eyes eager.
Jayce is too old to be self-conscious, so he gets his cock out of his jeans with little fanfare, holding it in his palm for Viktor to look at. When he looks up at Viktor, he sees the boy’s mouth is hanging open and he’s swaying forward slightly. Jayce places his free hand on the center of his chest, pushing him back lightly.
“You can’t touch, baby,” he reminds him.
Viktor pouts, his bottom lip jutting outward, and Jayce feels his cock twitch in his grip as he starts jerking himself hard and fast, too pent up for anything else.
“Wow,” Viktor breathes. “You’re so—so big.”
And Jayce—
Jayce preens. He slows the motion of his fist, giving Viktor a show as he works himself toward his own release.
“Can I—” Viktor asks again, and it takes everything in Jayce to tell him no.
Jayce works his cock nice and slow, showing Viktor how he likes it. Viktor is panting where he sits on his heels, hips wriggling as he watches Jayce get himself off.
“Daddy,” Viktor breathes, voice wrecked, and Jayce speeds up his fist.
“Fuck,” Jayce pants. “You’re gonna make Daddy cum.”
Viktor moans. “Cum, Daddy, please; wanna see you—”
Jayce’s balls are tight against his body, his orgasm so close his stomach is starting to cramp, when Viktor darts forward and wraps a hand around the base of his cock and squeezes hard.
“Viktor, fuck—!” Jayce cums immediately, thick ropes of cum painting Viktor’s chest, neck, and chin the way he’s leaning over Jayce’s lap.
It’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen, Viktor shocked and flushed pink, covered in Jayce’s cum.
Jayce darts forward before it has the chance to dry, trailing his tongue through the puddles of his cum painting Viktor’s chest.
“Jayce!” Viktor gasps. “That’s—that’s gross.”
“Mmmm,” Jayce groans. “No, no, it’s not, baby.”
“Fuck.”
Jayce swirls his tongue over Viktor’s nipple, can’t help it, and Viktor squeals, batting at Jayce’s head with his hands. “Too much, too much!”
He relents with a chuckle, breath fanning out over Viktor’s hard little nipples. He licks Viktor’s chest entirely clean before moving on to his neck and chin, and, once he’s satisfied, he kisses Viktor on the lips, just once.
Viktor runs a hand down his body, and then says, pleased, “I’m not sticky!”
Jayce laughs as he fishes for Viktor’s shirt among the blankets and tosses it back to him. “I know how much you hate being sticky, Vik. I’d never do that to you.”
“Gee, thanks,” Viktor teases as he lies down next to Jayce again, snuggling into his side for warmth.
Jayce wraps an arm around him and pulls him tight to his body, hoping against hope Viktor won’t feel the trembling of his hands where they rest on his waist.
“Hey,” Viktor whispers. “Happy Birthday, Daddy.”
Jayce swallows hard. “Thank you, baby.”
Viktor snorts. “Fuck you, Jayce,” he mutters, but his chest is tight, his clit throbbing in time with the beat. He takes another drag, lets his eyes fall shut.
He squeezes his thighs together, squirming, Jayce’s voice in his head: “Such a good boy for Daddy” this and “Cum for Daddy” that.
Viktor realizes he wants, more than anything, to get himself off in the passenger seat of his dad’s truck. “Must have smoked the slut-weed,” he chuckles to himself.
He lets his free hand trail down his torso, rucking up his shirt a bit to run his fingers along the downy dusting of hair on his stomach.
The music swells. The weed hums under his skin.
And then—
The door opens.
Viktor looks up lazily, sees Jayce silhouetted in moonlight, staring down at him.
Jayce sighs, rubbing his face. “Again?”
Viktor takes another hit and then exhales the smoke directly at him for having the audacity to interrupt him. “Hi, Dad.”
Jayce’s jaw twitches. He climbs into the driver’s seat and shuts the door. The cab is too small suddenly, the music too loud, the air too thick with weed and tension.
Tougher Than the Rest keeps playing.
“Maybe your other boyfriends
Couldn’t pass the test
Well, if you’re rough and ready for love
Honey, I’m tougher than the rest”
Viktor chokes on his next inhale.
Jayce reaches over and plucks the joint from his fingers. Takes a drag. Holds it.
Viktor’s mouth falls open.
Jayce exhales, slow, and turns his head to look at him. “You’re really testing me, kid.”
Viktor’s heart thunders in his chest.
The music continues to play. The truck smells like smoke and Jayce’s cologne.
Viktor swallows. “I—uh. Found your mixtape.”
Jayce’s eyes drop to the tape player. “I noticed.”
“You made me a mixtape.”
“Yeah.”
“With Bruce Springsteen.”
Jayce’s lips quirk. “Problem?”
Viktor’s high is blissful and terrifying. He licks his lips. “It’s embarrassing.”
Jayce leans closer. “You like it.”
Viktor’s breath hitches. “I hate it.”
Jayce’s gaze drops to his mouth. “Liar.”
The song crescendos.
“Well, there’s another dance
All you gotta do is say yes…”
Viktor whimpers.
Jayce’s hand lifts, hesitating, then brushes Viktor’s hair back from his forehead. His fingers linger.
“You’re high,” he murmurs.
Viktor leans into the touch. “You’re here.”
Jayce’s thumb traces his temple. “Where else would I be?”
Viktor’s eyes flutter shut. “Not sure. But here is good?”
Jayce’s breath is warm against his cheek. “Yeah?”
Viktor nods, barely.
Jayce leans in and presses a kiss to Viktor’s cheek. His stubble tickles. Viktor wants to feel it between his thighs.
He must say that part out loud, because Jayce gasps.
“Viktor,” he whispers. “I’m really trying, here.”
Viktor presses his cheek into Jayce’s hand. “Stop trying and just feel.”
“Vik…”
“Here,” Viktor says, handing him the joint. “Take another hit.”
Jayce chuckles wryly. “Are you trying to get me high and take advantage of me?”
“Could it be the other way around?” Viktor blurts out, his brain not fast enough to stop his mouth from speaking.
Viktor holds his breath.
Jayce takes another hit, long and slow. Viktor watches the smoke curl up to the ceiling of the truck’s cab. He watches as Jayce looks around for a place to put it out. He watches, as if he’s outside his body, as he sticks his tongue out, raising his eyebrows at Jayce expectantly.
Jayce chokes. “Fuck, Vik— No—”
Viktor merely continues looking at Jayce, his tongue sticking out.
Finally, mercifully, Jayce gives in to temptation.
Viktor whimpers as the red-hot end of the joint presses into his tongue, feels himself growing impossibly wetter in his briefs. The pain is exquisite—searing and sensual, and Viktor watches in delight as Jayce’s pupils dilate so quickly they completely eclipse his iris.
“Jesus Christ,” Jayce breathes. He sounds absolutely wrecked.
Viktor swallows, then grins wide at Jayce.
“I’m going to hell,” Jayce mutters.
Because he’s high as balls, Viktor asks, “Take me with you?”
And then they’re laughing, Jayce wrapping his arm around Viktor’s shoulders and nuzzling his cheek with his nose.
“Carry me to bed?” Viktor asks.
Jayce does not bother asking whose bedroom he means, knows that there’s only one logical outcome, and it’s the one that ends with Viktor in Jayce’s bed, that there’s no use fighting it.
He carries Viktor into the house and up the stairs piggyback-style, spinning around and dropping him on the bed once they arrive, the boy giggling in his ear the whole time.
It’s Jayce’s favorite sound in the whole world.
Jayce hesitates for a moment before taking his jeans off and getting on the bed beside Viktor. Just to be comfortable, right? He wouldn’t want to get into bed in his jeans.
Viktor giggles again, and then he honest-to-god whistles. “Give me a show, Dad!” He cries.
And Jayce—
Jayce is far too stoned for a man of his age. That’s what he tells himself, anyway, as he gets up on his knees, kneeling on the bed, and slowly strips his shirt off.
He watches in rapt delight as Viktor’s mouth falls open and his pupils dilate.
“God, Dad,” Viktor breathes. “You’re hot.”
Jayce is sure he blushes like a schoolboy.
He immediately tackles Viktor in a crushing hug, his son squeaking and laughing underneath him. He only relents when Viktor pinches him.
Jayce raises himself up on his forearms, gazing down at Viktor.
Viktor stares back, his eyes wide and trusting.
Jayce wants to ruin him.
Instead, he kisses him. Gentle at first, but then he’s quickly biting at his bottom lip, relishing the way Viktor moans into his mouth. He feels Viktor squirming underneath him, no doubt squeezing his thighs together, and he smirks.
Jayce slips a thigh in between Viktor’s innocently enough, though he’s rapidly losing control, the way Viktor starts to beg.
“Daddy, please, please, oh, Daddy, touch me, please, I need it—I need—need your cock—”
Something inside of Jayce loses its tether.
Jayce groans, has Viktor’s tiny little sleep shorts off in three seconds flat, his underwear following soon after, dropping in a pile on the floor of his bedroom.
“Dad,” Viktor gasps. “What are you doing?”
Jayce strips his own boxers off before he can overthink it, lying down on his back.
Viktor’s mouth falls open with an audible click, and he reaches for Jayce’s cock with both hands immediately.
“C’mere,” Jayce groans, grabbing Viktor by the hips and maneuvering him until he’s poised over Jayce’s lap.
“D-Dad?” Viktor asks, and he sounds so scared, so hopeful, it breaks Jayce’s heart.
“I’m not going to fuck you, baby,” Jayce murmurs, and Viktor visibly deflates. “But I’ll still give you my cock.” He punctuates his sentence by pulling Viktor down until his wet cunt is flush with his shaft.
Viktor positively whimpers, the sound heavenly.
“Grind against me, Vik,” he orders softly. “Make yourself feel good.”
Jayce can’t help but groan when Viktor starts to rock his hips, slowly at first but quickly gaining speed.
“Shit,” Viktor moans. “Jesus Christ.”
“That’s it, sweetheart,” Jayce says. “Just like that.”
“Why won’t you just fuck me, already, old man?” Viktor pouts, bratty in a way he has to know by now that Jayce loves.
“We can’t, baby, you know we can’t—” Jayce murmurs, but his protestations sound weak to his own ears, especially when his teenage son is literally straddling his cock, when he can feel every twitch of his hard, growing clit.
“But Dad,” Viktor whines, and Jayce groans.
“I can’t fuck you, V, you’re my son—”
Viktor moans. Jayce’s breath catches in his throat, and he promptly forgets why the fuck he was arguing when he has a lapful of beautiful, hormonal, horny teenage boy. “You like that, baby?” Jayce asks, though he thinks he knows the answer. “Like it when I call you my son?”
Viktor moans again and nods frantically. “Yes, yes, Daddy, I do.”
“Fuck.” Jayce is definitely, without a doubt, going straight to hell.
But…
Why can’t he pretend, just for one night, that it’s the first night?
He places a hand on each of Viktor’s skinny hips, helps him grind down on his shaft. The soft, mewling whimper Viktor lets out is the sweetest melody. “That’s it, baby. Grind your cock on Daddy’s.”
“Jesus Christ,” Viktor breathes, hips bucking. “Say it again.”
“Grind your cock on Daddy’s?” Jayce asks.
Viktor bites his lip but shakes his head. “My—my—”
And— oh. Jayce understands.
“Do you like rubbing cocks with Daddy, baby?”
Viktor practically squeals. He nods, eyes wide.
“Your little cock is growing, isn’t it, sweetheart?” Jayce asks, and Viktor moans, hips stuttering in their pace. “We should start measuring you.”
“Yes,” Viktor breathes out. “Please.”
Jayce groans, hands tightening on Viktor’s hips hard enough to bruise. “Love the way you say please. Such a polite boy.”
“Please, Daddy,” Viktor murmurs immediately. “Please make me cum.”
“Can I—?” Jayce asks, fingers twitching on the hem of Viktor’s t-shirt.
“Yes, yes; take it off, touch me—”
Jayce doesn’t need to be told twice. He has Viktor’s shirt off and flung across the room in three seconds flat, hands instantly reaching for Viktor’s little tits. He gropes and kneads the soft flesh, relishing the soft whimpers Viktor lets out.
“Fuck,” Viktor whispers. “I’m close.”
Jayce trails his fingertips across Viktor’s hard nipples, making his son’s breath catch and his legs clamp down around Jayce’s as he cums—his first of many, not that Viktor himself knows that yet.
He twitches as he comes down from his high, panting and giggling as he nuzzles his nose against Jayce’s. He kisses him, then, kisses his sweet boy, and Viktor melts into it.
They kiss languidly, unhurriedly. When Jayce feels the tip of Viktor’s tongue shyly seeking entrance into his mouth, he groans, letting him in. Viktor instantly licks the sharp tips of Jayce’s teeth and then bites down on his bottom lip, and Jayce is searingly, blindingly jealous as he pulls away.
“Who taught you to kiss like that?” He demands, his voice gruff.
Viktor blinks at him. “What?”
“Viktor. Who taught you to kiss like that?” He repeats.
“Are you jealous, Dad?”
“You bet I am,” Jayce responds, and it comes out as a growl. “You’re mine.”
And Jayce—Jayce can feel Viktor’s clit twitch as he moans, “Say it again.”
“You’re mine,” Jayce breathes into Viktor’s mouth. “My son, my partner, my everything.”
Viktor drops his forehead to Jayce’s collarbone with a sob. “Daddy.”
Jayce rubs a soothing hand up and down the knobs of his spine, tracing the outline of his scar with his fingertips. “Do you want to cum again for Daddy?” He feels Viktor nod against him. He keeps his forehead pressed to Jayce’s chest as he starts rocking his hips slowly, no doubt still sensitive from his first orgasm.
He continues to rub Viktor’s back as his boy picks up speed, panting now into the hollow of Jayce’s throat. “You’re so wet for me, baby,” Jayce murmurs. “Doing so good for Daddy.”
The slick slide of their cocks is divine torture. Jayce feels crazed, strung out—it would be so easy to just slip right inside Viktor’s warm, wet cunt, to feel every twitch and flutter from the inside. He feels dizzy with the want of it, with the tease of it, with knowing everything he wants is right there and he can’t have it.
He opens his mouth without even intending to speak. “Wish I could fuck you, baby,” he says. “Bet you’d feel absolutely divine wrapped around my cock.”
Viktor moans, loud and long, hips twitching. “I’m close,” he pants.
Jayce, against all better judgment, keeps fucking talking. “I wouldn’t just fuck you, no—I’d make love to you, baby; make you feel so good.”
Viktor cums then for a second time, gasping and writhing in Jayce’s lap. Jayce holds him through it, fingers tight enough to bruise his slender hips. “So good,” he whispers. “You’re doing so well.”
And, fuck, but Viktor is crying, tears spilling down his cheeks. “Oh, baby,” Jayce coos, immediately wiping his tears away. “Is it too much? We can stop—”
Viktor glares at him. “Don’t you dare stop, old man.”
“Old?” Jayce challenges, thrusting his hips, just because he can.
Viktor’s thighs clamp down around him as he squeals. “Do it again,” he pleads.
And Jayce—god help him—Jayce does.
He thrusts up into Viktor as Viktor thrusts down, their cocks sliding together deliciously. Damningly.
Jayce can’t bring himself to care, not when Viktor is the very picture of bliss—eyes hazy, cheeks flushed, hair mussed, lazy grin on his lips.
They start rutting against each other like animals, then, both of them panting heavily.
“Fuck, Jayce,” Viktor cries. “Fuck.”
“Jayce?” He asks, his voice rough. “I don’t think that’s who I am, baby.”
Viktor moans before correcting himself. “Daddy, Daddy, I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“Good boy, “Jayce croons. “It’s okay.”
Jayce has been so enraptured with Viktor’s pleasure that his own orgasm takes him by surprise, crashing into him like a freight train. He tries to pull away, but Viktor bears down harder, his own pleasure peaking a third time, and Jayce is utterly, hopelessly lost as he cums all over Viktor’s pretty pink cunt.
And Viktor—Jayce expected anger. Expected terror. Expected tears. But instead—
He trails a finger through Jayce’s cum and then slowly brings his finger to his mouth to lick and suck. Jayce feels his softening cock twitch.
Viktor hums. “Salty,” is all he says.
And Jayce—Jayce can’t help but admire the sight of Viktor covered in his cum, utterly debauched, truly marked as his. He’s got cum trailing all the way from his pussy to his neck, is stretched out languidly, all lanky limbs and alabaster skin.
He wants to lick him clean.
Jayce is utterly fucked.
Live like it’s your last night on earth, I guess, he thinks, and asks: “Can Daddy clean you up, baby?”
Viktor’s blinks are slow, coquettish. He looks like a little doll, fucked out and smiling as he nods.
Jayce starts at his neck, tongue swirling around a mole as he licks his own cum off his son. Viktor giggles, high and breathy in his throat. “Dad,” he breathes. “Dad, that tickles.” Jayce rubs his scruff against Viktor’s skin for good measure, just to make him squirm.
He takes his time licking the cum off Viktor’s chest, paying extra attention to his pert little nipples, relishing the way Viktor gasps and tries to move away from the sensation. Jayce gets an idea, then—he bites into the soft flesh of Viktor’s tit, sucking a bruise there, and Viktor howls.
“Fuck,” Viktor pants. “Daddy.”
Jayce trails his tongue through the drying cum across the planes of his stomach, stopping here and there to bite Viktor’s tender skin. Viktor moans and squirms every time, and Jayce just knows he’s soaked, his slick mixing with Jayce’s own cum. The thought goes straight to his dick.
When Jayce reaches the mound of Vikor’s pubic bone he stops and just breathes in, inhaling the thick, heady scent of Viktor’s pussy.
Viktor laughs. “Are you smelling me?”
“Mmm,” Jayce hums. “I am. You smell so good, baby.”
Viktor lets his legs fall open. An invitation.
When Jayce finally gets his tongue on Viktor’s cunt, it is divine. He hears Angels singing—or maybe that’s just the Angel above him, sighing in relief and pleasure. The taste of Viktor’s slick mixed with Jayce’s cum is ambrosia on his tongue. He can’t get enough.
He licks deep into Viktor’s cunt, can’t help himself, pushing some of his cum in with his tongue. Viktor positively screams, so Jayce does it again. And again. He eats Viktor out until his jaw is aching and then keeps going, determined to make him cum from this alone.
It doesn’t take long for him to get his wish.
Only a few more strokes and Viktor is coming, cunt clenching hard around Jayce’s tongue inside him.
Jayce does not let up. He does not slow down. Instead, he wraps his lips around Viktor’s growing cock and sucks, hard, and Viktor wails.
“Oh, fuck,” he cries. “Yes, yes! Suck my cock, Daddy, fuck—!”
And Jayce knows he’s too far gone, that there’s no denying his culpability.
He finds it hard to care when Viktor bucks against his mouth, hips twitching wildly on the bed as he keens and whimpers. Jayce wonders if he could make him squirt.
Jayce sucks Viktor’s puffy clit hard and fast, swirling his tongue around the tip, and he knows Viktor is close to his fifth orgasm the way he’s shaking and panting and pulling Jayce’s hair.
Viktor protests weakly. “It’s too much, Dad, stop—” but his words break off into a long moan, and then he’s begging Jayce not to stop, “Please, Daddy, please don’t stop—”
Viktor’s orgasm rushes through him, covering Jayce’s face in slick. He laps it up like a dying man, groaning at the taste of pure Viktor. Jayce continues to eat him out until Viktor shoves his head away, tells him it really is too much, now, and Jayce relents—but not without pouting.
After, they lie there side-by-side, panting.
“How are you so calm about this?” Jayce asks, now that the reality of what he’s done to his boy, his son sets in.
Viktor shrugs. “I trust you to take care of me, one way or the other.”
Jayce does not ask him what he means.
Chapter 18
The fifth and final time Viktor comes home covered in hickies, Jayce breaks.
“Viktor,” he says, voice catching on a near-sob. “Can we talk?”
“What is there to talk about?”
So it’s going to be like that, then.
Jayce sighs, knows there no way out of this but with the honest truth. He crosses the room in three strides, cradles Viktor’s face in his hands.
“Viktor, I can’t,” he says, and it is damnation. “I can’t do this anymore. I love you. I’m so in love with you, baby. Please stop seeing Dmitri; please stop seeing anybody who’s not me. I’ll be all you need. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby; I was wrong.”
Viktor sniffs, folding his arms across his chest. “How can I believe you?” He asks, and oh, he sounds so small. “One minute it’s, I love you, Viktor, I’m going to marry you when you turn 18, and then I actually turn 18, and now it’s, We can’t, Viktor, I can’t steal your youth, you need to live your life.” His voice cracks. “Do you know how fucking tired I am?”
“Viktor—” Jayce tries, but Viktor barrels on in a desperate rush.
“You’ve been leading me on, Jayce, god—” He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “How can I be sure you really want this? That you want me—all of me? How do I know this isn’t just a fling for you? That this isn’t just—just an episode?”
Jayce closes his eyes. He deserves that, he knows.
“Viktor,” he breathes. “My sweetheart, my baby, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry— I—”
Jayce kisses him, then, deep and desperate. For one terrifying, heart-stopping second, Viktor freezes.
Then he kisses back, vicious like he really hates Jayce, hates how much he still wants him.
When they break for air, Viktor is clinging to him like he’s the only solid thing in a storm.
“I was wrong, Vik, I was so wrong—” Jayce gasps. “I thought, Christ, I thought I was protecting you—”
“You’re an idiot,” Viktor says, giving him a watery grin.
“Yes,” he breathes. “I am.”
“Jayce,” Viktor sighs, like he’s resigned to his fate, and Jayce holds his breath. “Take me to bed.”
Jayce throws him over his shoulder, then, just like that first night three years ago outside The Last Drop, and Viktor laughs. He bounds up the steps to his bedroom, tossing Viktor on the bed to make him giggle again.
Jayce strips out of his jeans slowly, unable to resist preening under his son’s hungry gaze. His shirt goes next, tossed into a pile on the floor.
He climbs on the bed, then, clad only in his boxers, and kisses Viktor again.
Viktor kisses him back hungrily, with purpose, biting at his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.
Jayce hopes he does, wants to walk around marked as Viktor’s.
“You don’t know how jealous you’ve made me, kid,” Jayce breathes against his mouth. “I’ve been going crazy.”
“That was the point, yes,” Viktor smirks.
“God,” Jayce says. “I should punish you for that. Take you over my knee.”
Viktor’s breath hitches. “Do it, then.”
And Jayce—god help him, Jayce does. He sits on the edge of the bed and maneuvers Viktor until he’s spread across his lap. Jayce pulls his jeans and underwear down around his knees hurriedly, frantically, desperate to get his hands on Viktor’s pert little ass.
Jayce groans. God, but Viktor is perfect— his skin is just begging to be marked up. “How many?” Jayce asks.
“What?” Viktor responds, breathless, dazed.
“How many spanks do you think you deserve for torturing me the way you have been?”
Viktor squirms in his lap. “Um… Twenty?”
Jayce is shocked. “Are you sure, baby?”
Viktor nods. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Okay, sweetheart. I want you to count them for me, okay?”
Viktor nods again. Jayce rears his hand back and slaps his right buttcheek, and his boy jolts in his lap. “One,” he breathes.
Jayce gives him four more in quick succession, letting his frustration, his jealousy, his hurt seep out of him as he spanks Viktor.
“Did he fuck you open with his fingers, baby? Did he fill your pretty cunt up until you were aching? Did you call him Daddy?” At that, Viktor shakes his head frantically; no, no. Jayce grins. “Of course not. Because he’s not your Daddy, is he?”
Six. Seven. Eight.
Viktor shakes his head again.
“Who is, Viktor?” Jayce urges. “Say it.”
Nine.
“You’re my Daddy,” Viktor breathes, and Jayce could weep.
“Yeah, baby,” he murmurs. “I’m your Daddy.”
Ten.
“Halfway there, sweet boy,” Jayce croons.
Viktor pants. Jayce doesn’t hold back, putting all of his force into smacking Viktor’s sweet little ass, delighting in the way his handprint stands out in stark relief on his alabaster skin, outlined in red.
“Eleven,” Viktor moans. “Twelve. Th-thirteen.”
Jayce grabs Viktor’s ass then, kneading and massaging the soft flesh.
“F-fourteen,” Viktor pants. “Daddy.”
“Doing so good for me, baby.”
Viktor wiggles his hips.
Jayce is softer with smacks fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen, wanting to give his boy a break before the last few.
“I’m not going to hold back on these last ones, okay?” Jayce warns him.
“You better not,” Viktor whimpers. He sounds wrecked.
Viktor moans loudly, voice breaking as he counts out eighteen, nineteen, and finally, finally, twenty.
Jayce rubs his ass softly, soothing the red, angry skin. “So good, baby,” he breathes. “You did so good for me. Come here.” Jayce gathers him in his arms, and Viktor moans again, pouting slightly, and Jayce is powerless not to kiss him again.
Viktor melts into it, squirming and writhing in Jayce’s lap, panting into his mouth. “Daddy,” he breathes.
“Daddy’s here,” Jayce murmurs, stroking his hair. “Daddy’s got you.”
“Daddy,” Viktor says again. “Fuck me.”
Jayce’s cock throbs in his boxers as he lays Viktor out on the bed, as he trails a finger through the wetness pouring out of his pussy.
“God, baby; you’re so wet.”
Viktor moans, wiggling his hips. “Touch me.”
Jayce does, sliding a finger into Viktor’s tight, wet heat as he uses his thumb to rub circles on his little puffy cock. He fingers Viktor languidly, stroking his g-spot, until Viktor is begging for more.
“Another,” Viktor pants. “Please.”
God, but he already sounds fucked out. Jayce’s cock is so hard it hurts.
Viktor takes a second finger easily and Jayce groans, imagining how good Viktor’s going to feel wrapped around his cock. “You feel so good, baby,” Jayce murmurs. “So tight for me.”
“I’m not—I’m not a virgin,” Viktor grounds out, cheeks flushed pink. “You don’t have to be so careful.”
Jayce stills his hands on Viktor’s hips and looks up at him. “Did you like it?”
“What?” Viktor asks, accent thick.
“When you…” Jayce grasps for the right words and can’t find them. “Did you like it? Was it with someone who loves you?”
Viktor is silent for a long moment, blush deepening to a cherry red. “...No,” he finally says, the admission soft and secret.
“Then you’re still a virgin, Vik,” Jayce murmurs.
Viktor gasps, his big eyes filling with tears. He’s the most beautiful thing Jayce has ever seen.
“Do you mean it?”
“Baby,” Jayce breathes. “Of course, I mean it.”
Viktor gives him a sly grin. “So you’re taking my virginity?”
Jayce groans, cock twitching in his boxers. “You don’t know what you do to me, kid.”
Viktor blinks slowly at him. “Then show me.”
Jayce slips his boxers off, hissing when his cock is exposed to the chill of the room. He reaches into his bedside stand for a condom, but Viktor stops him with a hand on his wrist.
“No,” Viktor says, shaking his head. “I want to feel you. All of you.”
Jayce feels like he’s going to fucking die. “Vik,” he groans. “We—”
“—have bought Plan B before,” Viktor cuts him off. “Besides,” he adds. “I’m on birth control.”
“Since when?”
Viktor sighs. “As soon as I turned eighteen, Dad.”
Jayce sees red. “Did Dmitri—?”
“God, no,” he laughs. “He never actually—” Viktor sighs. “It was makeup, Jayce. Dmitri is straight. I was just—I was just trying to make you jealous. I’ve been—I’ve been waiting. For you.”
Jayce sighs in relief, squeezing the base of his dick to take the edge off.
“Okay,” he murmurs. “Good.”
“Good?” Viktor asks, quirking a brow.
“You’re mine,” Jayce growls.
Viktor moans, spreading his legs wider. “Say it again.”
“You’re mine, kid. My everything. My partner. My soulmate.”
Viktor’s breath hitches. “Oh, Jayce—” He surges up to kiss him, then, and Jayce meets him halfway.
When they finally break for air, Viktor is panting against his mouth. “Fuck me, Jayce, please, god— don’t make me wait anymore—”
Jayce positions his cock at Viktor’s entrance and slowly pushes in, enraptured by the way Viktor’s eyes roll back in his head. Fuck, he’s so tight— Jayce has no idea how he’s going to fit.
“More, more,” Viktor babbles.
“Don’t want to hurt you, baby.”
“I can take it,” Viktor counters. “I’ve been practicing.”
“What?” Jayce demands.
Viktor rolls his eyes. “It is exceptionally easy to buy a dildo online, Dad.”
Jayce groans, imagining his boy working himself open late at night.
He means to go slow, but then Viktor bucks his hips, and Jayce is sliding all the way home, his hips snug with Viktor’s.
They both moan, and Jayce could cry at how right it feels. “You feel so good,” he babbles. “God.”
“Could’ve had this, eh, ages ago,” Viktor pants.
“We’ve already established that I’m an idiot.”
“Yes, well,” Viktor says with a grin. “It bears repeating.”
Jayce pulls out and fucks into him, gently, reverently. Viktor groans, grinding his hips up to meet Jayce’s thrust.
“I’m not made of glass, you know,” he huffs. “You’re not going to break me.”
That’s because I already have, Jayce thinks.
Viktor winds a hand through his hair and pulls. All of the breath rushes from Jayce’s lungs.
“Fucking Christ, Dad,” Viktor whines. “Just fuck me. You know you want to. I want you to. Be rough with me, please.” And, fuck, but he’s begging, and—
And he really, really shouldn’t do this. Viktor’s first time should be gentle, should be soft and loving and safe. He wants Viktor’s first time to be perfect.
But then Viktor looks at him with those big golden eyes, and he’s lost.
Jayce sets a brutal pace as he fucks into Viktor, spearing him open, driving him down down down into the soft mattress, his hair fanned out across the pillow, already sex-msused.
God, he’s going to hell.
He finds he doesn’t care, not when Viktor feels like heaven wrapped around his cock.
“Just like that, baby,” Jayce groans. “You’re taking me so well.”
“I—I—told you, I’ve been—ah—practicing,” Viktor manages between little breathy moans.
Jayce honestly can’t remember one good reason he didn’t let himself have this sooner.
“You’re sure Daddy’s not too big for you?” He teases, just because he can.
Viktor flushes bright pink. “I’m not—I’m not a child,” he argues, accent thick.
“No,” Jayce agrees. “You sure as hell are not.” He punctuates his sentence with a particularly harsh thrust, forcing a loud moan of pleasure-pain out of Viktor.
“Harder,” Viktor begs. “Daddy, please.”
And, really, any man would be powerless to resist such a siren’s call.
Jayce fucks into Viktor as hard as he can—surely bruising his cervix—but Viktor only moans, wanton like a whore, and begs for more.
“God,” Jayce breathes, in awe of this creature of sin writhing beneath him. “You really are a whore for Daddy’s cock.”
Viktor whimpers then, nodding frantically. Jayce feels impossibly, dizzyingly drunk.
“Daddy gives you what you need, don’t I?” He asks. “Don’t I, Vik?” He slows down his thrusts enough to let Viktor know he expects an answer. “You don’t need anybody else?”
Viktor shakes his head. “No, no, Daddy; of course not, God—”
Jayce rewards him with another deep thrust, filling him to the brim. “Good boy,” he praises. “There’s Daddy’s good boy.”
Viktor keens high in his throat.
Jayce is thirty years older than Viktor, and he is embarrassingly close to coming already.
“What do you need, baby?” He asks, pleads. “Wanna make you cum. So good for me.”
He’s babbling now, teetering on the edge of his orgasm. He feels sixteen again, god.
“Fuck,” Viktor grits out. “Your—fuck.” He blushes. “Choke me?”
“Jesus, Viktor,” Jayce breathes.
“Please, Daddy?” Viktor asks, batting his eyelashes.
Jayce wraps his hand around Viktor’s throat in a daze, watching from outside his body as he places his thumb and forefinger on his carotid artery and squeezes.
Viktor gasps, eyes rolling back in his head. “Harder,” he rasps out.
Jayce swallows. He applies a bit more pressure, pupils growing fat and hungry as Viktor throws his head back, pressing his neck harder into Jayce’s hand as he cums silently, cunt fluttering and clenching around Jayce’s cock.
He finally releases Viktor’s neck, and he takes in a deep, shuddering breath before grinning lazily at Jayce. “Fuck,” he says. His voice is wrecked. “That was good.”
Jayce’s hips stutter in their pace. “Where, baby?” He pants. “Where can I cum?”
Viktor bites his lip. Then—
“Inside me, Daddy, please—” he thrusts his hips up into Jayce’s. “Wanna feel you.”
Jayce thrusts one, two, three more times, and then he’s coming, cock buried as deep inside Viktor’s cunt as he can get. “Fuck,” he groans. “Viktor.”
“That’s it, Daddy,” Viktor all but purrs. “Cum inside me.”
Jayce moans brokenly as even more semen shoots of his cock, coating Viktor’s womb. For one wild moment, he hopes that it takes, wants to give Viktor a baby so fucking bad—
Viktor moans, then, walls fluttering, and Jayce realizes he said that out loud.
“Yes— yes, Jayce, god— knock me up, I don’t care, fuck—”
Jayce groans as he hips buck, fucking his cum even deeper into Viktor.
“If it doesn’t take,” Jayce babbles. “We’ll just keep trying until it does, baby.”
Jayce thrusts into Viktor one final, desperate time before pulling out, quickly replacing his cock with three thick fingers.
Viktor whimpers when the palm of his hand brushes his hard little cocklet.
Jayce rushes forward to get his mouth on the pale skin of Viktor’s neck, biting and sucking bruises into the tender flesh. Viktor grinds his clit into Jayce’s hand while he sucks a purple necklace across his collarbones.
“Fuck, Jayce,” he pouts. “I’m close again already.”
“Good,” is all Jayce says.
He starts fucking his fingers in and out of Viktor’s wet hole then, using his own cum as lube to slick his way. His fingers are long enough, Viktor small enough, that he can brush against his g-spot without even reaching for it.
“Oh, fuck,” Viktor moans. “I’m coming, fuck—”
He clenches down hard around Jayce’s fingers, and Jayce doesn’t let up, only fucks into him harder and faster.
Viktor moans again, thrashing wildly on the bed.
“Daddy,” he nearly screams. “Dad, please, it’s too much—”
“I decide when you’ve had enough, baby,” Jayce murmurs.
Viktor does scream then, gushing around Jayce’s fingers as he cums.
Jayce smirks.
“Oh, darling,” he teases. “You’ve made such a mess.”
Viktor looks at him with wide eyes, his lower lip trembling, and Jayce quickly reassures him: “Daddy’s just gonna have to clean you up.”
Jayce slides his fingers out of Viktor then, watching in awe as thick pools of cum pour out of his clenching hole. “Oh, darling,” he breathes. “You’re wrecked.”
He leans forward then to get his mouth on Viktor, moaning into his cunt as soon as his tongue touches his clit. Viktor’s hips twitch violently, and Jayce slings his forearm across his waist to hold him in place. Viktor’s legs tremble.
Jayce trails his tongue lower to dip through the mess of slick and cum he’s made of Viktor’s cunt, groaning as the taste floods his senses. He eats Viktor out like it’s his last meal on earth, like he’ll fucking die without it—and he really thinks he might, thinks he might just need Viktor more than he needs air or food or water.
It’s not long before Jayce’s cock is fully hard again, twitching against the bed as he licks Viktor’s pussy.
Viktor keeps making these aborted little motions with his hips, like he’s simultaneously trying to get closer to Jayce’s mouth and get as far away from him as possible.
Jyace finds that he loves it, loves the chase of it, the thrill.
He glances up, wants to see the pleasure on Viktor’s face, and is pleasantly surprised by the sight of his son groping his little tits while his dad eats him out. He watches as Viktor tweaks his nipples, hard, as he throws his head back into the pillow and moans, back straining to arch off the bed, unable to the way Jayce has him pinned down so effortlessly.
Jayce ruts his cock against the bed, the need to be inside Viktor again nearly overwhelming. He’s determined to get Viktor off again first before fucking him again, god, before even asking—
He wraps his lips around his clit and sucks as hard as he can, trying not to grin when Viktor all but flails, a loud moan tearing its way out of his throat. He swirls his tongue around the tip while he suckles, and it only takes mere seconds before Viktor is coming again, sobbing as he chants, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy; fuck me, Daddy.”
Jayce slides back into him before he even finishes coming, watching as Viktor’s eyes roll back in his head and a low moan growls its way out of him. “Oh,” he moans. “Oh, oh.”
Jayce doesn’t take it slow, fucking into Viktor hard and fast and relentless, Viktor twitching as he wraps his arms around Jayce’s shoulders and takes it like a good little boy.
“Good boy,” Jayce murmurs. “Oh, such a good boy for me.”
Viktor sobs, nails scratching against the bare skin of Jayce’s back. Jayce groans into the feeling.
“Harder, fuck me harder.”
Jayce’s own eyes roll back into his head as he gives Viktor everything he has, not holding back an inch of his longing, of his years of wanting but not taking.
God, is he taking now, fucking his son like he’s nothing but a slut, begging for his Daddy’s cock.
He doesn’t wait for Viktor to cum before chasing his own release this time, too far gone in his own pleasure.
“Use me,” Viktor whispers. “Take what you need.”
And Jayce is gone, coming inside Viktor for the second time that night. He gasps when he feels Viktor begin to cum around him, untouched.
“Oh, baby,” Jayce pants, hips twitching. “Did you cum just from Daddy coming inside you?”
Viktor nods, shy and embarrassed, and Jayce leans forward to kiss him, pressing his cock even more snugly against his cervix. Viktor cries out, biting Jayce’s lip hard with his sharp teeth.
Jayce groans into Viktor’s mouth. “Yeah, baby,” he whispers. “Hurt me back.”
Viktor pulls back for a moment, looking stricken, before he grins wickedly and rakes his nails down Jayce’s chest. Jayce throws his head back and thrusts deeper into Viktor, his pubic bone pressing on his sensitive clit. Viktor hisses at the feeling.
“God, Dad,” he whimpers. “I’m so sensitive.”
Jayce grinds his hips up into him, just because he can, before pulling out with a wet squelching noise that makes them both chuckle breathlessly. He lies beside Viktor, pulling him close to his chest and peppering his face with kisses.
“Mmm,” Viktor hums. “You done, old man?”
Jayce scoffs. “Not even close.” He nuzzles Viktor with his nose. “But you need to drink some water.”
Viktor groans. “God, you’re such a Dad sometimes.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jayce chuckles, nudging Viktor out of bed. “The sooner we go, the sooner we can come back.”
At that, Viktor rushes out of bed and down the stairs to the kitchen, not even bothering to wrap a sheet around his naked body.
Jayce is glad he’s so comfortable, so free.
He should be.
Jayce hands him a granola bar and a glass of water, pressing a kiss to his forehead before pouring himself his own glass of water.
Viktor snacks in silence, eyeing Jayce assessingly.
“You know…” Viktor hedges as he throws his granola bar wrapper away. “I… Um…” He blushes. “I’dreallyliketotryanal, if that’s okay with you. I’m—I’mclean. I—I um. Prepared.”
Jayce’s heart stops. “Of course, that’s okay, Vik, fuck.” He gulps down the rest of his water. “Go get your favorite toy for me, okay, baby?” He asks, soft and low. Viktor rushes to comply, scurrying to his bedroom, limping slightly. He comes back holding a long, thick, navy blue dildo, roughly the size of Jayce’s own cock.
“Oh, darling,” Jayce croons. “So big. Are you sure?”
Viktor nods, determined.
“Okay, V,” Jayce says, setting his glass down on the counter to deal with later. He scoops Viktor into his arms then, carrying him back upstairs since he left his cane in their bedroom—and god, when did he start thinking of it as their bedroom?
He lies Viktor down on the bed gently, tells him to get on his stomach while he searches his bedside drawer for lube.
He squeezes a generous amount onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm the lube, before gently spreading Viktor’s cheeks with his other hand to expose his perfect little hole.
“God, baby,” he breathes. “So perfect.”
Viktor wiggles his hips. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Jayce spits on his hole, then, can’t stop himself. Viktor gasps. “Dad!”
He grins as he slowly circles Viktor’s rim with his fingertip, watching the soft, puckered skin flutter at his featherlight touch.
Viktor wiggles his hips. “Come on,” he huffs.
“Get up on your knees for me, baby,” Jayce murmurs. Viktor does, and he can’t resist pressing just the tip of his index finger into Viktor’s tight little asshole, cock twitching as Viktor gasps breathlessly.
“More, more.”
“You sure, sweetheart?”
“Yes, Jayce, god—”
Jayce slides the rest of his finger in, grinning in satisfaction when Viktor moans loudly and brokenly.
He slowly fucks his finger in and out of Viktor’s tight hole, letting him get used to the feeling.
“More,” Viktor begs. “More, please, I can take it, please—”
“God,” Jayce breathes. “You really are a little slut.”
Viktor nearly screams then, hole clenching around Jayce’s finger as he keens high in his throat. Jayce is powerless to resist giving him another finger, sliding it in fast next to the other one and then giving Viktor time to adjust.
He scissors his fingers open slowly, gently stretching Viktor. Viktor is panting softly as he grips the bedsheets in his fists, letting out the sweetest little whimpers. Jayce smooths his other hand down his spine as he adds a third finger, desperate to get his cock inside that tight heat.
“Daddy!” Viktor cries out.
Jayce starts fucking his fingers into Viktor—slowly at first but quickly gaining speed, until Viktor is thrashing and begging for his cock. “Please, Daddy,” he pleads. “Please fuck me. Please.”
He fucks into Viktor a few more times before sliding his fingers out. Viktor whimpers at the loss, his breath catching on a gasping moan when jayce nudges at his entrance with the tip of his cock.
“You ready, baby?”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
Jayce presses in slowly, eyes rolling back as the head of his cock is enveloped in tight heat. “Oh, darling,” he groans. “Viktor. You feel so fucking good. Gripping my cock like a vice.”
“You’re so big, Daddy, fuck—” Viktor sounds wrecked. He sounds broken. “More.”
He feeds Viktor his cock inch by painstaking inch, stopping every few seconds to check on him.
Once he’s fully seated, hips flush with Viktor’s ass, they both moan in relief. Jayce is in desperate danger of coming immediately, the way Viktor’s gripping his cock and moaning brokenly. His goal is to overstimulate Viktor until he’s crying, but right now, Jayce is the one teetering on the edge of overstimulation.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “You feel so fucking good. Oh my god.” Viktor clenches around him and Jayce practically growls, the sound ripped from his throat.
“I want—” Viktor pants. “I want you to… Want you to fuck me like an animal.”
Jayce does growl then, deep and rumbling in his chest, as he pulls almost all the way out of Viktor and then slams back in.
“Oh, fuck!” Viktor chokes.
Jayce doesn’t stop, just keeps pounding into Viktor as he makes these breathy little ah ah ah sounds, sweat trickling down his spine, his fingers bruising Viktor’s skinny little hips. God, but Viktor is so small— Jayce’s vision vignettes, he feels like he’s going to pass out. “So tiny,” he babbles. “Such a little boy stretched on his Daddy’s cock.”
Viktor moans and writhes, arms shaking where he holds himself up, and Jayce remembers the toy he had Viktor go get from his room. He slows down his thrusts just enough to function, removing one hand from Viktor’s hips to grab the dildo, a deep navy blue. He slides the tip through Viktor’s folds, doesn’t bother with lube—he knows his boy is wet enough.
“Oh, fuck,” Viktor gasps. “Yes, Daddy, please!”
“Please, what?” Jayce asks, just to be mean, just to hear Viktor beg.
“F-fuck both my holes, please, please, please, I can take it, please—”
He may like to be mean, but he’s not cruel. He gives Viktor what he wants, then, sliding the toy into his wet, aching cunt until it’s fully seated to the hilt. Every muscle in Viktor’s little body tenses, and Jayce moans, low and long. Viktor whimpers as he falls to his elbows, unable to hold himself up any longer.
Jayce leans forward to kiss down the scar on Viktor’s spine, and the new angle makes them both cry out. Jayce sees stars in his vision.
“I’m not—” he chokes, “oh, fuck, sweetheart—I’m not—I can’t last, fuck— so tight—”
“Cum in me again, Daddy,” Viktor babbles. “Cum for me cum for me cum for me—”
Jayce pistons his dick into Viktor’s tight hole while he works his sloppy cunt open with the toy, the angle hell on the gunshot scar on his shoulder but so, so worth it. He thrusts one, two, three more times and then he’s coming, so much that it’s spilling out around his cock, leaking out of Viktor’s ass.
“Daddy!” Viktor wails. “So much, you’re coming so much!”
Jayce groans and releases the toy to pinch Viktor’s clit between his thumb and forefinger, hard. Viktor wails again. “Oh, fuck, harder, harder—” Jayce pinches him harder. “Oh, I’m coming, fuck, I’m coming—!”
A few more spurts of cum shoot from his cock as Viktor clenches around him, whole body shaking with the force of his orgasm. “That’s it, darling,” Jayce whispers. “Cum for your Dad.”
Viktor shakes and whines. “Too much,” he whimpers. “It’s too much.”
Jayce releases his cock and Viktor starts to babble frantically, “Thank you thank you thank you,” but then Jayce threads his hand through the hair at the nape of his neck and pulls until Viktor’s head is arched back, nearly bending him in half.
“I say when you’ve had enough, baby,” Jayce breathes. “Not you.” He releases Viktor then, soothing a hand down his back, not wanting to hurt him, not like that.
He doesn’t give Viktor time to come down from his orgasm, sliding his softening cock out quickly before he rolls him onto his back and starts fucking the toy into him again, fast and relentless. Viktor chokes on a sob, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Jesus Christ.”
Jayce feels wild as he thinks, His tears aren’t enough. As he thinks, I want to see him piss himself.
He must say that out loud, because Viktor starts crying in earnest, begging for it in between heaving sobs.
“God,” Jayce says. “You’re such a fucking slut.”
Viktor moans high and loud.
Jayce lets it all come tumbling out of his mouth, every sinful thought and fantasy he’s had over the years. “Such a whore for your Dad’s cock,” Jayce murmurs. “You should be embarrassed.”
“‘M not embarrassed.” His son shakes his head, defiant as ever, even in the face of sexual torture. He has to kiss him then, can’t put into words how much he loves him.
“Little cock slut,” Jayce continues after they break for air, still fucking the toy into Viktor’s sopping wet cunt. “You just need to have your holes filled, is that it?” Viktor nods frantically. “I know, baby. I know what you need.”
Viktor whines as Jayce presses the palm of his hand flat against his groin and pushes until he can feel the slight bulge of the toy pressing into him, eyes rolling back in his head. “Fuck,” he pants. “I’m gonna—feels like—”
Jayce presses down harder. “I know, baby. Just let go. It’s okay. It’s going to feel so good, I promise, sweetheart; do you trust me?”
“Yes. Yes, I trust you, Dad.”
“Then just let go, Vik.”
He does, muffling a scream with his hand as he starts to piss himself. Jayce fucks the toy into him faster, making hot liquid squirt onto his face. He opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out to catch the sweet droplets of Viktor’s piss.
“Oh, fuck,” Viktor sobs. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy—I’m gonna—I’m gonna—”
And then Viktor is coming, still pissing, and Jayce is the happiest man alive as Viktor wails and thrashes above him, squirting everywhere.
“Da- daddy,” Viktor cries. “Please, please, enough.”
Jayce relents, slipping the toy out of his cunt. He leans back on his heels and places one hand on the inside of Viktor’s thighs and spreads his legs, drinking his fill of Viktor’s ruined holes. The bedsheets beneath him are completely soaked, piss and sweat and cum making a heady concoction Jayce is powerless not to stick his face into and breathe deeply, licking the fabric and suckling it into his mouth.
Viktor’s legs twitch in his grasp, and Jayce groans as Viktor whispers, “Dad, what are you doing?”
He sucks his fill before releasing the sheets to look up at Viktor from between his thighs. “Tasting the mess we made, baby.”
“God,” Viktor sighs. “You are filthy.” Then he grins. “I love it.”
Jayce smiles up at him before climbing up the bed to curl around Viktor, pulling him close to his chest and kissing his head. “Damn, I love you, kid.”
Viktor’s smile glows brighter than the moonlight streaming through the windows. “I love you, too, Jayce.”
They lie there together for a few moments before Viktor scrunches his nose. “God, I feel disgusting. Let’s shower?”
Jayce squeezes Viktor tighter and then releases him. “Fine,” he mock-grumbles. “If you insist.”
Chapter 19
“Viktor Talis,” Jayce starts, tears in his eyes. “Will you do me the honor of being my husband?”
“How many times do I have to say it, old man? Yes, yes, a million times, yes.”
Jayce slips the ring onto his finger then, kissing his fingertips and making Viktor giggle. He kisses his way up Viktor’s arm, scruff tickling the sensitive skin of his inner elbow, until he at last reaches his mouth. Viktor kisses back immediately, biting down on Jayce’s lower lip before pulling back. Jayce chases him, pulled toward Viktor the way north pulls on magnets.
“Dad!” Viktor laughs, tears in his eyes. “The pancakes!”
“Let them burn,” Jayce growls, capturing Viktor’s lips with his own once more.
Just then, the smoke alarm goes off. Viktor bursts into peals of laughter, and Jayce groans as he reluctantly stands to open the window above the sink, dumping the burnt pancakes into the trash and turning the stovetop off before turning back around to face Viktor. “Now,” he says. “Where were we?”
“I believe you were going to fuck me, fiancé,” Viktor responds, blunt as can be.
Jayce chuckles. “Is that so?”
“Mhmm,” Viktor hums, rising from his chair to stand in front of Jayce. God, he’s grown so much, and he’s still so much smaller than Jayce. He places his hands on Viktor’s hips and squeezes, just because he can, before spinning them and hoisting Viktor up onto the counter.
He crowds into his space, then, capturing his lips with his own once more. They kiss lazily in the soft morning light, the ring on Viktor’s finger glinting where it rests on Jayce’s shoulder. Viktor sighs a happy little sound when Jayce kisses his way across his jaw and down his neck, stopping to suck a bruise into the hollow of his throat.
Jayce works a hand between them, slipping it past the waistband of his underwear and finding Viktor already wet, his little cock hard and twitching when he brushes against it. “God, V,” he breathes. “I’ll never get over how wet you get.”
Viktor moans, writhing on the countertop.
Jayce doesn’t make him wait, immediately sliding a finger into Viktor’s waiting cunt. He fingers Viktor slowly, languidly, relishing his little gasping breaths against his ear.
“Another, Jayce, please,” Viktor pants.
“Patience, baby,” Jayce cautions.
Viktor huffs. “You quite literally fucked me last night, Jayce. Give me another finger.”
“Yes, princess,” Jayce laughs as he slides another finger alongside the first, curling them up against Viktor’s G-spot and making him cry out.
“Fuck, yes.” Viktor throws his head back, canting his hips up into Jayce’s hand. “More, Jayce, more.”
He starts fucking his fingers in and out of Viktor, brushing against that bundle of nerves that makes him cry out with every thrust. Still, Viktor begs for ‘More, more.’
Jayce uses his thumb to rub roughly at his clit, and Viktor’s legs tense up around him. “Oh my god,” Viktor breathes. “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum right here on our kitchen counter!” He giggles.
“Yes,” Jayce agrees, grinning. “You are.”
He bites down on the meat of his shoulder, hard, and Viktor wails as he cums, cunt clenching around Jayce’s fingers as he twitches, riding out his pleasure. Jayce only pulls his hand away once Viktor starts shoving at his arm and telling him it’s too much.
“God,” Viktor breathes, dropping his forehead to Jayce’s chest. “That was good… fiancé.”
Jayce uses the hand he just got Viktor off with to lift his chin so he can kiss him, moaning into Viktor’s mouth. “Mine,” Jayce murmurs between kisses. “You’re all mine. Forever.”
“Forever,” Viktor agrees.
Chapter 20
Viktor’s been on T for two years now, and his libido shows no signs of slowing down. If anything, it’s only increased, especially ever since he and Jayce got engaged.
He nearly whimpers when he watches Jayce stop where he’s hammering a nail into a board to strip his shirt off, back muscles flexing as he tosses it to the side. Viktor instantly feels himself grow wet in his shorts at the sight of the hair covering his chest and stomach.
Jayce resumes working. Viktor squirms where he sits on the porch.
A few more minutes of watching Jayce, and Viktor finds his hand drifting between his legs of its own accord, softly stroking his pussy through the soaked material. He bites his lip against a moan, keeps his eyes on Jayce as he swings the hammer with surgical precision.
He strokes himself through the thin cotton for a few minutes before he shoves them to the side so he can finger himself properly, instantly sliding two fingers into his tight, wet heat, unable to stop himself from moaning softly.
Jayce looks over at him then, with supersonic hearing when it comes to Viktor’s noises, and promptly drops the hammer on the ground. He rushes across the backyard until he’s in front of Viktor, breathing heavily as he looks down at him with a grin.
“Need some help, baby?”
Viktor’s eyes flutter as he looks up at Jayce. “Yeah, Jayce? You gonna fuck me in our backyard?”
Jayce grabs his free hand, then, and hauls him up. “Yeah. I am.”
Heat travels through Viktor’s body and straight to his cunt, clenching around nothing.
He leads Viktor to the soft, sun-warmed grass and promptly lays him down, slipping his dick out through the zip of his jeans, already hard. Viktor reaches for him.
“Don’t make me wait, please.” He even pouts for good measure.
Jayce, his fiancé, listens—thank god—instantly sliding into Viktor’s waiting cunt. Viktor wails, still sensitive from last night, and writhes in the grass.
“Jayce,” he pants. “Fuck.”
“Who’s fucking you, baby?” He asks.
Viktor grins.
“Daddy,” he sighs breathily. “My Daddy.”
“That’s right, V,” Jayce praises, and Viktor preens under his attention. “That’s my good boy.”
Viktor whines as he thrashes, head thrown back in soft Kentucky bluegrass. Jayce fucks him languidly, unhurriedly, the sun beaming down on them and making everything glow golden. Jayce fucks him—makes love to him—like they have all the time in the world. And they do, don’t they? Viktor feels tears pricking at his eyes, and then he blinks, and they’re spilling down his cheeks, all his happiness spilling out of him.
Jayce stills, hands instantly coming up to frame Viktor’s face. “What’s wrong, baby? Is Daddy hurting you?”
Viktor shakes his head. “The opposite.” He turns his head slightly, kisses Jayce’s fingertips. “Keep going.”
His fiancé doesn’t have to be told twice, instantly setting a punishing rhythm with his hips.
“God,” Jayce groans. “You're perfect, sweetheart.”
Viktor rolls his eyes the best he can while being absolutely pounded into the grass. “Flatterer.”
The grin Jayce gives him is devastating. “No,” he says. “Just honest.”
Viktor feels himself flush, knows without needing to look in a mirror that there are two spots of color high on his cheeks.
“Stop talking and fuck me like you mean it,” he quips.
The look Jayce gives him then is so tender, so raw and open, that Viktor has to close his eyes against a fresh wave of tears. “I always mean it, V.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he teases, but his voice comes out hoarse. “Get to it, old man.”
“Your old man,” Jayce murmurs back.
Viktor starts to think, in more ways than one, but then Jayce hauls him up by the hips until he's fucking into Viktor as deeply as humanly possible, and he stops thinking entirely.
He is reduced to nothing but sensation, to the hot wet yes god please slide of Jayce's cock in his cunt, remaking him from the inside out.
“Jay,” he whispers, voice hardly more than a breath. “Daddy. I'm close.”
“Yeah?” Jayce groans. “Me too, baby. Wanna cum together?”
Viktor nods frantically, no doubt getting bits of grass stuck in his hair.
Jayce moves to get a hand between them to rub Viktor's clit, but Viktor stops him. “Don't need it,” he murmurs. “Just hold me.”
He gathers Viktor in his arms, then, leaning back on his heels, and, fuck, but this new angle is wholly overwhelming, too much too much too much so good please don't stop—
Viktor's nails are digging into Jayce's shoulders, Jayce's arms around his waist like a vice, and with a particularly perfect thrust, Viktor is coming, his orgasm taking him by surprise.
“Fuck,” Jayce groans. “That's it, baby. Cum for Daddy.”
Viktor whimpers and bites his lip, trying to stifle his sounds lest any nosy neighbors overhear Jayce fucking his son in broad daylight in the middle of their backyard.
“God, V; I can't wait to marry you,” Jayce groans as he cums, following Viktor down into sheer bliss.
He pants against Jayce's shoulder as they both come down from their highs, Jayce stroking his hair and back reverently. Viktor lets out a panicked little bleat when Jayce tries to pull out, mumbling before his brain has the chance to catch up with his mouth: “Don't. Want it to take.”
All of the air rushes out of Jayce in one punched-out sound. “Baby,” he says, voice thick. “Do you mean it?”
And Viktor knows this is far from the way to open this line of conversation, that he needs to take this seriously, show Jayce how serious he is about their future together, but he's warm and happy and so in love he feels drunk on it, and so he says, simply: “Yes.”
Jayce gasps and tightens his hold on Viktor's waist, starts peppering his face with kisses. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he murmurs between kisses. “I love you so much.”
“Yes,” Viktor whispers back, dazed. “I love you.”
(Jayce does not work on the gazebo for the rest of the day.)
The next twelve days fly by in a blur of finishing touches and giddy excitement, and before he knows it, it’s the night before the wedding.
Viktor is sleeping in his old room tonight, for some inexplicable reason wanting to hold to tradition and old wives’ tales.
He shrieks when Jayce comes barrelling in, asking him when he’s coming to bed. “You can’t see the bride before the wedding! It’s bad luck!”
Jayce smirks.
Viktor gulps.
“Yeah, baby? My bride, huh?”
Viktor has to bite his lip to hold back a whimper, hearing bride in Jayce’s sultry voice sending heat lancing straight through his core.
“I mean—” Viktor stammers. Jayce smirks harder. “Ugh!”
“You can be my bride if you want to be, sweetheart,” Jayce says, smirk softening into a grin. “Whatever you want to be, as long as you’re mine.”
Viktor feels himself flush bright red, unable to speak.
“You wanna be a girl for me tonight, Vik?”
Viktor squirms, pressing his thighs together. He nods.
Jayce climbs into bed with him then, and Viktor thrills, never mind the fact they’ve been sharing a bedroom for what feels like years now—and in many ways, they have.
He gently pulls the blanket from his legs, pupils fattening when he sees that Viktor is bare beneath the sheets.
“Thought it was bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, hmm? Seems like someone was prepared…” He teases.
“I just—this is more comfortable, that’s all,” Viktor argues, even though he knows it’s not strictly the truth. He may have hoped. Just a little bit.
Jayce places a big hand on each of his knees then, spreading his legs. “Let Daddy see his little girl,” Jayce murmurs, and, oh fuck, Viktor whimpers as he feels slick pour out of him.
“Yes, Daddy,” Viktor whispers, letting his legs be spread.
Jayce swipes a finger through his gathering wetness and groans. “God, Vik. Such a good girl for me.”
Viktor blushes scarlet as he feels himself grow impossibly wetter at Jayce's words, at Jayce's featherlight touch, at the promise of what's to come.
“Have you thought about this before, baby?” Jayce asks, swirling lazy circles around Viktor's entrance and making him squirm.
Viktor nods.
“Daddy asked you a question, sweetheart. Use your words. How long have you been thinking about this?”
“Yes, yes, I've thought about it,” Viktor gasps. “Since—since that guy at the mall called me your—your daughter.”
Viktor watches in delight as Jayce presses his other hand to his cock to take the pressure off.
“Do you like that, Daddy?” He smirks. “Like me being your daughter?”
Jayce chokes. “I—I like whatever you like, V.”
Viktor pouts—half-serious, half-teasing. “It's no fun if you don't like it, too.”
“Fuck,” Jayce breathes. “I just—I just want to be respectful, I don't want you to think I actually think of you as—as a girl; you're my son, my husband, and—”
Viktor silences him with a finger pressed to his lips. “Shhh. I want this. I want you to want this.”
Jayce breathes a sigh of relief, the tension in his shoulders releasing.
Viktor's explicit permission to want this is like a dam breaking.
“Fuck, Viki,” Jayce groans, easily sliding two fingers into his waiting cunt. “Yeah, I want you to be my daughter, baby. Want you to be my little wife. Want—fuck—how far are you wanting me to go with the whole misgendering kink thing?”
Viktor's breath catches, suddenly terrified to say the words out loud, to ask for what he wants clearly and succinctly.
Jayce strokes a hand through his hair. “Hey, baby,” he coos. “It's okay. Take your time.”
“I want—” Viktor starts, then stops. He takes a deep breath and tries again. “I want you to—to treat me like I'm—like I'm just a confused girl? And I promise I'll tell you immediately if I don't like it,” he breathes out in a rush.
Jayce curls his fingers inside Viktor, stroking his G-spot. “God, V. You don't know what you do to me. I never knew it was possible to want like this, before you.”
“Then show me,” Viktor whispers.
Jayce brings his thumb up to circle Viktor's clit. “See this, baby? This isn't a cock. It's a pretty little clit, perfect for my pretty little girl.”
Viktor whimpers.
“That okay?” Jayce asks.
“More than okay,” Viktor nods. “Keep going. Fuck, please don't stop, Daddy.”
“You're just confused, sweetheart. You just need a real man to show you how good it feels to be a woman.”
“Show me, fuck, please show me,” Viktor pants.
“Yeah? You want me to fuck a baby into you, fill your womb up?”
Viktor clenches down tight around Jayce's fingers. “Yes, god, yes—”
“Shit, V; I can't wait, need to be inside you—fuck—”
“Yes, yes,” Viktor moans. “Fuck me, please, now—”
Jayce pulls his fingers out and has his cock nudging at Viktor's entrance so quickly that Viktor hardly has time to mourn the loss.
“Gonna knock my pretty little girl up,” Jayce says, slowly pressing into Viktor.
“Yes, Daddy, please. Fuck a baby into me. I want it, I want it so bad—”
Jayce groans and shoves all the way in, and Viktor gasps at the burning pleasure. They both moan once Jayce is buried to the hilt, his hips pressing into Viktor's, pressing him into the mattress.
“God, Daddy,” Viktor says, rucking his shirt up under his chin to play with his nipples. “Feels so fucking good.”
Jayce bats his hands away, instantly pinching each of his nipples between his thumb and forefinger and twisting. Viktor's back arches off the bed and into Jayce's touch, begging for more more more, always more.
Jayce twists and pulls at his sensitive nipples as he fucks into him so hard he's sliding up the bed, and Viktor is already so close he's nearly embarrassed by it.
Viktor moans loud and wanton when Jayce switches to grabbing a fistful of his breasts, his calloused palms brushing against his aching nipples.
“Such perfect little tits on my perfect little girl,” Jayce says, his voice rough with lust. “Wonder how big they'll get when you're pregnant, baby.”
Viktor's whole body locks up in pleasure. “Fuck, Daddy, I'm—I'm close—”
“I know, Viki,” Jayce smirks. “I can feel it. You're so fucking tight.”
“I want to cum with you, Daddy, I don't want to cum yet—”
“Did I say you could cum yet?” Jayce asks, his voice deliciously sardonic.
Viktor feels like he's melting through the mattress as he shakes his head no.
“Good girl.”
Viktor shudders as Jayce presses into him with a particularly hard, deep thrust, the tip of his cock no doubt kissing Viktor's cervix.
I want him to bruise me, Viktor thinks wildly. Inside.
He wants to walk down the aisle tomorrow with Jayce's baby thickening his womb and a bruise on his cervix from Jayce's cock pounding into him.
“Harder,” he pants. “Jayce, Daddy, harder, please—”
Jayce groans, starts pistoning his hips in a punishing rhythm, forcing breathy moans out of both of them with every thrust.
“Look at you,” Jayce murmurs. “Such a good little slut for her Daddy.”
“Oh my god,” Viktor pants. “Daddy, I'm so close, please—”
“Me too, baby,” Jayce reassures him, squeezing his tits so hard it hurts.
“Cum in me, knock me up, fuck a baby into me, please, please, please—”
“Oh, fuck,” Jayce chokes out. “Gonna make you a mother, baby; fuck, you'd be such a good mom. Viki, darling, sweetheart, cum, cum with me, cum with Daddy—”
Viktor nearly screams when he feels Jayce press as deep as he can, too deep, spilling inside Viktor. His eyes roll back in his head as he follows Jayce down, coming so hard he sees stars.
When he comes to, Jayce is lying beside him with three fingers sitting snugly in his pussy, his other hand stroking Viktor's hair. “Good girl,” Jayce is murmuring, “Such a good girl for me. I can't wait to marry you.”
“I can't wait to marry you either, Daddy,” Viktor whispers, exhausted and satisfied, his cunt fluttering around Jayce's fingers, keeping his cum inside.
“We should probably clean up,” Jayce says after a few minutes.
“Mmm,” Viktor mumbles. “No. Wanna sleep with your cum inside me. Want it to take.”
Jayce gasps. Viktor peeks one eye open to look at him and sees he has tears in his eyes, the big sap.
“Yes, Jayce, I am really, truly serious about wanting your baby,” Viktor says before Jayce even has the chance to ask—again. “Now go to sleep. I simply refuse to let either of us have dark circles in our wedding photos.”
“Whatever you say, princess,” Jayce grins, kissing Viktor delicately on the tip of his nose.
“Thank you,” Viktor says, closing his eyes again. “Goodnight, husband.”
“Goodnight, husband,” Jayce repeats, and Viktor can hear the smile in his voice.
“Love you,” Viktor mumbles, already half-asleep.
“I love you more,” is the last thing he hears before he succumbs to his dreams.
As soon as their last guest leaves, Jayce murmurs in Viktor's ear. “So. Ready to consummate our marriage, dear husband?”
It is like a bolt of lightning straight through Viktor's body, and he instantly feels wide awake. (Still drunk, though.)
“Why, my darling husband,” Viktor drawls. “I thought you'd never ask.”
Jayce scoops Viktor into his arms in a bridal carry, and Viktor laughs as he drunkenly stumbles through the back door and up the stairs to their bedroom.
He lies Viktor down on their bed reverently, the way he always does, as if he were a fragile, ancient artefact. “God, V,” he murmurs. “I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you more,” Viktor responds.
“Oh, don't start that,” Jayce says as he climbs onto the bed to kiss Viktor soundly.
They kiss languidly, unhurriedly, secure in the knowledge they have all the time in the world together.
But Viktor is young, and drunk, and horny, and it's not long before he's pulling at Jayce's suit. “Off, off,” he pleads.
Jayce strips himself bare in record time, betraying his eagerness.
Jayce goes for Viktor's pants immediately, but Viktor stops him with a gentle hand. “Take my top off first,” he murmurs. “I have a surprise for you.”
Jayce quirks a brow at him but does as he's asked, gently shoving ruffles out of the way to get to the buttons on Viktor's shirt. He has Viktor sit up, so he can slip the top from his slender shoulders.
His binder goes next, slipping up and off his torso, Jayce dragging his nails lightly up the soft skin of Viktor's sides.
“You're so beautiful, V,” Jayce breathes. “Can't believe you're mine.”
“All yours,” Viktor echoes. “Forever.”
“And I'm yours,” Jayce responds before he ducks his head to suck a bruise into the hollow of Viktor's throat. Jayce kisses his way along Viktor's neck until he reaches the junction of his shoulder, which is when he bites down hard. Electricity rips through Viktor's body, tearing a thready moan from his throat.
“Do that again,” Viktor pants. “Bite me again.”
So Jayce does, repeatedly. After every bite, he soothes the tender skin with his tongue, nipping and sucking his love into Viktor's skin, marking him fully—wedding ring, last name, bruises... Viktor grins.
Jayce looks up at him. “What are you grinning about?”
“Nothing,” Viktor whispers, still smiling. “Just you.”
Jayce presses his answering smile into Viktor's collarbone.
As much as Viktor loves it when Jayce marks him up, he is also deeply impatient when he's this drunk and this horny, and he really wants Jayce to see the little surprise he planned.
He writhes on the bed, whining slightly. “Take my pants off.”
“Yes, darling,” Jayce murmurs, hands immediately flying to the waistband of Viktor's slacks to unbutton them and slide them down Viktor's legs. Viktor lifts his hips to make it easier, leaning back on his elbows so he can watch Jayce discover the garter he's been wearing all day.
Jayce's breath catches as he runs a finger along the fragile fabric. It's a bright gold, shaped to match the hydrangeas in the yard. Viktor had taken a gamble—and it's clearly paying off in spades, the way Jayce's pupils are blown so wide you can hardly see the iris.
“You've been wearing this all day?” Jayce asks, his voice tender, awe-filled, and reverent. “For me?”
A quip is on the tip of Viktor's tongue—no, Jayce, my other husband—but he bites it back. “Always for you, Daddy.”
Jayce groans then, deep and growling in the back of his throat, before grasping the garter with his teeth.
He pulls the garter down Viktor's leg achingly slow, taking his time to press kisses into the soft skin as he goes. When he at last flings it across the room, Viktor is near panting, and so wet it's uncomfortable.
“Don't make me wait, please, Daddy,” he begs. “I've been wet ever since we said 'I do.'”
Jayce growls, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Viktor's briefs and yanking them down his legs in a subtle show of force that never fails to get Viktor's heart racing.
Once Viktor is laid bare beneath him, Jayce—his husband, god, Viktor doesn't think he'll ever tire of saying that—uses two fingers to spread his lower lips, exposing his clenching, wet hole and his hard, aching clit.
“Darling,” Jayce breathes. “So wet and hard for me. How did I get so lucky?”
“I ask myself that every day, honestly,” Viktor replies.
“God, we're ridiculous,” Jayce murmurs before diving forward to seal his lips over Viktor's clit.
Viktor screams, the pleasure instant and blinding and overwhelming. He's been pumping his t-dick every morning and night lately, which does wonders for his bottom growth but also makes him insanely fucking sensitive.
(As if he doesn't love it, pleasure so intense it borders on pain.)
Jayce sucks his cock greedily, clearly determined to bring Viktor to orgasm before truly 'consummating their marriage.' Viktor throws his head back into the pillows and knows it's not going to be long before he's coming.
Jayce is so attuned to his body that he knows it, too, and he starts swirling his tongue around Viktor's clit and up under his clitoral hood, never releasing the suction of his mouth.
Viktor's orgasm sneaks up on him so fast he doesn't even have time to warn Jayce. One moment he's writhing on the bed and moaning Jayce's name, and the next he's coming violently, his whole body spasming as he soaks Jayce's beard with his slick and cum.
Jayce groans into his cunt as he eats Viktor out like their marriage depends on it, tongue as deep as it could possibly go, his nose pressed against Viktor's over-sensitive clit.
Once Jayce has drunk his fill of Viktor's cum, he leans back on his heels and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before grasping his cock. He lazily strokes his hard length while grinning at Viktor, and it might just be the single hottest thing Viktor's ever seen in his nineteen years on this earth.
He needs Jayce—his Daddy, his husband, his everything—inside of him immediately.
“Fuck me, Daddy,” he begs. “Make love to me, don't make me wait any longer, please—”
“Give me a moment, baby,” Jayce groans. “You're so perfect, I'm in danger of coming the moment I get inside you.”
“I wouldn't mind,” Viktor replies, dreadfully honest.
“Yeah?” Jayce asks with a little smirk. “Well, I would. I want to take my time with you, sweetheart. It is our wedding night, after all.”
“Hurry up and get to it, old man,” Viktor quips, the moonshine and the vodka making him just a bit fiery. “I'm not getting any younger.”
Jayce laughs before lining his cock up with Viktor's entrance.
Viktor is as thrilled as if it were the first time, every time.
“Come on and fuck me, husband,” Viktor taunts, and that's all it takes for Jayce to slide all the way home, his thick cock filling Viktor to the brim. They both gasp when Jayce bottoms out, and Viktor feels tears pricking at his eyes—not out of pain or discomfort, but because of the overwhelm of love in his heart, in this room, between the two of them.
He blinks, and the tears fall. “God,” he mutters. “I love you. I love you so much I can hardly stand it.”
“Oh, baby,” Jayce coos, wiping his tears with the hand not being used to brace himself on the bed so he doesn't crush Viktor. “Don't cry. I love you just as much.”
“I know,” Viktor says. “That's why I'm crying.”
Jayce fucks into him slow and sensual, making it last. On every forward thrust, Jayce's pelvis brushes against his sensitive clit.
Viktor is in heaven.
They don't talk much after that—not with words, anyway. Their bodies, however, their bodies are writing pure poetry. Viktor hears Jayce's “I love you” with every brush against his cervix; his answering “I love you” spoken with his nails raking down Jayce's back.
Jayce wraps a large hand around the back of Viktor's neck, pressing their foreheads together so that their sweat and tears mix until no one could be sure where one ends and the other begins.
Viktor's second orgasm washes over him gently, like a warm breeze on a hot summer night. He clenches down hard around Jayce's cock as he soaks the bed beneath them, kissing Jayce's tears away until Jayce cums too, following him down into sheer bliss.
“That's it, Daddy,” Viktor murmurs, his voice rough from disuse. “Cum inside me, cum inside your husband, your son, your wife—”
Jayce groans as he collapses against Viktor, rolling them onto their sides. “You're everything to me, V,” Jayce whispers. “I love you so fucking much.”
“I know,” Viktor whispers back. “I know because I love you just the same.”
Viktor feels Jayce's softening cock twitch inside him, and he giggles. “Yeah, Daddy? Declarations of love do it for you?”
Jayce sticks his tongue out at him, and Viktor's giggles turn into full-fledged laughter, and then Jayce is laughing too, and then they're just lying there laughing and holding each other, covered in cum and sweat.
It's the happiest Viktor can ever remember being.
He knows that their marriage will not always be sunshine and tulips, that they will have hard days, weeks, maybe even months—but he's ready. God, is he ready. He wants it all with Jayce, the shimmering good days and the bad days that stick like wool and the gray beige days in between where time stretches like molasses from one moment to the next.
“Hey,” he whispers, kissing the tip of Jayce's nose. “I can't wait for the rest of our lives together.”
Jayce squeezes him impossibly tighter. “Me neither, kid.”