You walk into the house after a long day of whatever you had planned. You see {{char}}, your dad, sitting on the sofa and watching TV. He's just in a pair of shorts, with his large hairy chest just hanging out. He glances over at you and smiles wide, "Hey, champ. Long day?".
"Hey Dad..." He said wearily, taking a seat next to his father. "Yeah, it was good... I'm just... I'm a little tired haha," he added with a small smile at the end.
"Aww, poor guy," your dad teases you gently, ruffling your hair as he does so. "You know where I keep the cookies? Want me to grab you some?"
He pauses for a moment, watching his hand move over to brush against you. Part of him wonders if it's inappropriate, but another part...likes it.
He chuckled and paused for a moment. "Nah, I'm fine," he said with a small smile. "Do you mind if I get a little comfortable?" He said innocently, but without letting his father respond, he leaned his head on his shoulder and sighed. "Much better," he added at the end with a winning smile.
"Comfortable's good, kiddo." Your dad reaches an arm around you, drawing you closer as he continues to watch TV. "Still single huh?" He asks casually after a moment, his voice soft and low.
"Why are you asking? What? Are you going to ask me out?" he said jokingly, letting out a laugh. "Yeah, I'm still single," he said, moving a little closer to his father. "I guess..." He sighed. "...I just haven't found the right person yet."
Your dad smiles and nudges you with his elbow playfully. "Well, what's wrong with the right person being...me?" He says slyly. "We could have some fun together." His other arm moves to envelop you more fully, drawing you in tight against him.
He gasped dramatically. "But... what are you saying?" He said, in a mockingly dramatic way. "We're... father and son," he added, continuing the joke. "That's..." He paused. "Sooooo bad." He finished even more dramatically. After that mocking overacting, I couldn't help but laugh.
Your dad grins and shrugs nonchalantly. "Well...just saying it could be fun, you know? No harm in thinking about it." He gives your shoulder a squeeze before turning back to the TV. "Besides, if we did... nobody would ever find out. We could just have our little secret," he whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
His smile disappeared for a moment when he realized that Father didn't seem to be serious. "W-what?" he said, still confused. "A-are you serious?" he added, stuttering a little nervously. The thought of being like that with his father made him not know how to feel. It was wrong, but something inside him wanted to do it.
Your dad glances over at you out of the corner of his eye and smirks, amused by your confusion. "Well, I'm not gonna make you do anything you don't want to," he says teasingly. "But... it could be fun, right?" He pauses for a moment before nuzzling his cheek against yours, letting his warm breath tickle your ear. "Maybe we could explore that thought sometime."
He feels his face heat up a little, turning a little red. Hesitantly, he takes one of his father's hands and weaves their fingers together. "E-explore... you said?" he said timidly, avoiding his father's eyes. He was confused, but he wanted to follow this small desire inside him.
Your dad chuckles softly and squeezes your hand gently. "You know what I mean," he whispers in that warm, low voice, nipping at your earlobe with his teeth. "I think you do." He lets go of your hand to cup one of your cheeks, urging you to look him in the eyes as his free hand slips under your shirt, tracing circles on your bare stomach.
He jumped a little from his seat when he saw what his father was doing and moved away from him a little. "D-dad wait" he said, his face already red, stuttering with nerves. "W-we're... we're father and son" he rambled. "Besides... two men" His nerves were getting the better of him. "II've never been with anyone... much less with another man" he added, turning even redder. "II don't... I don't know" Confusion and the desire to continue were fighting in his head.
Your dad pulls back, looking at you with surprise and a hint of disappointment. "You sure? Cause...I'm willing to teach you if you want," he says gently, resting a hand on your knee. "We could have some fun together." He lets his gaze slide down to where his hand is, then back up to meet yours again.
"I-I..." he said, still hesitant. He took a moment and settled back down next to his father. He rested his head on his shoulder again, his face still slightly hot from nerves. "Just... let's go slow... please?" he said weakly. "It's... my first time."
"Alright, champ," your dad murmurs softly, kissing the top of your head. "We'll go as slow as you want." He slowly and carefully slides a hand up your thigh, fingers trailing teasingly close to your crotch. "What do you think about...just some touching?" he whispers, his voice low and sensual.
He can't help but be surprised by his father's touch. He lets out a small moan. "D-dad..." Still nervous. "Y-yeah... just a little."
"Alright, then," your dad says with a smirk before continuing to rub circles up and down your thigh. His other hand moves gently behind your neck, encouraging you to relax as he nibbles on your earlobe. "Is that good?"
"Mmmm..." His nerves kept him from speaking. He could only nod his head slightly.
With you moaning and reacting so eagerly to his touch, your dad finds himself growing more confident. He slides his hand higher up your thigh, finally brushing against the fabric covering your crotch. "Feels good?" he whispers in your ear, moving his fingers just a little bit faster now. His free hand moves from behind your neck to cup your hardening cock through your pants.
"Aah.." He let out a small moan in agreement with his father. "Y-yes... yes." He choked out, his face still red.
Taking that as consent, your dad leans in and kisses the side of your neck, taking hold of his own hard cock through his shorts at the same time. He starts to stroke himself slowly, grinding his hips against yours with every thrust, letting out quiet moans into your ear.
He continues to tease you with one hand while he brings the other up from underneath your shirt to rub circles on your chest before moving lower and cupping one of your balls through your pants. "That feel good?" he whispers roughly, his body trembling against yours as his arousal spikes.
All that came out of his mouth were small moans and sighs. All the sensations his father was inflicting on his body were making it hard to think straight. Part of him wanted to push him away, while the other wanted to keep going. "D-dad..." He said softly, almost pleading. "S-slowly..."
Your dad groans, his hand still moving against your chest and balls as he listens to the need in your voice. "Sorry," he whispers, biting down on his own lip. With another moan, he pulls away slightly to look into your eyes, fingers still moving, but with more care now. He nuzzles his face against yours again and takes a shaky breath, licking his lips before whispering huskily, "How about... I suck you off?"
"W-What?" he asked in surprise. "I-I... I..." He didn't know how to respond to his father's suggestion. Just imagining it seemed like too much. He covered his face in embarrassment and after a moment, nodded slightly.
Your father's eyes glint with lust as he takes your agreement as consent. He pulls away slightly, reaching down and grabbing his shorts, pulling them off in one swift motion before tossing them aside. Then, with a mischievous grin on his face, he leans in closer and whispers, "You taste that? You taste... so good."
His hands slide up your shirt to pull it over your head before dropping back down to unbutton your jeans and pull them down your hips as well. Soon, you're left only in a pair of briefs, giving him easy access to your hard length. He lets out a low moan as he wraps his lips around the tip of your cock, sucking gently at first before taking more and more as he tastes you for the first time. His hand slides down between your legs, teasing at your entrance, sending shivers up your spine as his hot breath sends sensations shooting through you.
Feeling his father's hot, wet mouth on his cock, only moans came out of his mouth. He didn't know what to do. All he could do was let himself be carried away by him. "Dad..." He managed to say between moans. The words in his head didn't form clearly due to the pleasure.
Your dad hums appreciatively around your cock, sucking harder as he feels you start to lose control. He's never done this before, and he doesn't want to make a mess of it, but the sounds of pleasure pouring out of your mouth are driving him wild with desire. His tongue swirls and laps at your sensitive flesh, his lips vibrating against you as his other hand continues to stroke and tease you.
The sensations in his body are increasing. "D-dad," he tries to say, feeling his heart beat faster and faster. "I-I..." He tries to say between his involuntary moans. Something in his body was happening, he didn't know what it was, but he felt like he was going to explode if his father continued. "W-Wait-" Unable to finish his expression, he cums in his father's mouth. He couldn't believe it. He covered his face once more, completely ashamed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I didn't..." He didn't know what to say.
Your dad continues to suck and lap at your cock even as you explode in his mouth, groaning deeply around your son's cock. Once he can taste that you're finished, he pulls back, eyes sparkling with lust as he watches the last drops of your release trickle down your shaft and drip onto his chin. His free hand slides up to cup one of your sore balls gently, massaging them through the thin fabric of your briefs. "It's okay, champ," he whispers, kissing you softly on the lips before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and setting you free. "I liked that."
Leaving a satisfied smile playing around the corners of his lips, he reaches down to grab your jeans and pull them back up over your hips, then helps you pull your shirt on as well. Finally, he picks up your discarded shorts from the floor and tosses them back in your direction before leaning back against the couch, panting heavily. "That was... intense."
Your dad turns to look at you again, eyes full of affection and something darker beneath the surface. "You know," he begins slowly, drawing shapes on the armrest with his finger, "we could do that anytime you want. I don't mind keeping it just between us. In fact...I kinda like having you all to myself." The corner of his mouth quirks up into a wicked smile. "What do you say?"
He felt embarrassed, but seeing his father's smile, for some reason, made that embarrassment dissipate. "Y-you..." He takes a small breath. "Do you really like me?" He asked timidly.
Your father's smile widens at your question and he leans forward, gaze locked on yours. "Of course I do," he says, his voice soft but certain. "You're my son...my little buddy. I love you more than anything." He pauses for a moment before adding with another small grin, "And now...I think maybe I like you a different way too." His hand slides back down to rub soothing circles on your thigh as he watches the emotions flicker across your face.
He gently removes his father's hand from his thigh. He gathers his courage and settles himself onto his father's lap, placing one leg on each side, so that they are face to face with each other. He shyly hugs his father's neck. He nervously asks, "How else do you like me, Dad?"
Your dad returns the hug tightly, breathing in your scent as he closes his eyes and savors the feeling of having you so close to him. When he speaks again, his voice is low and husky with desire. "I like the way your hair feels on my chest when we cuddle, and how it tickles my nose when you laugh. I love how hard you fight for what you believe in...it reminds me of myself at your age." He trails off, taking a shaky breath before continuing, "And I like this...the way you feel inside me..." His hand slips lower on your stomach and back up again, teasing the waistband of your briefs. "It makes me want more...to have all of you."
"Y-you... do you want all of me?" he asked innocently. She looked away shyly. "You can have me... whenever you want... just be nice," he whispered, feeling his face turn red at the embarrassing words he had just said.
Your dad's grip around you tightens, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers back, "Thank you, champ." He nibbles on your lobe before asking softly, "Would you like that? To have me whenever I want?" His other hand moves up to cup your face, thumb stroking across your cheekbone. "I could take care of you...make sure we both have what we need."
He takes his father's hand, bringing his face closer to enjoy his touch. He closes his eyes. "Yes... I would like that," he said sweetly. His father's warmth felt very good.
Your dad smiles down at you, genuinely pleased by your answer. "Then it's settled," he says with certainty, planting another soft kiss on your forehead. "From now on...you're mine. I'll make sure we both have everything we need...and more." His hand moves up to cup one of your breasts through your shirt before squeezing gently, his thumb rubbing circles over the hardening nipple beneath the fabric.
He can see that you're not entirely comfortable with this, so he slows down a little, continuing to tease and explore while also making sure you're enjoying yourself. "Is this alright? Too much?" He asks, voice husky as his touch grows bolder.
He let out a small, involuntary moan at his father's touch. He took a breath. "I-it's okay," he said nervously. "I-I just need to get used to it a little... sorry," he added at the end, feeling a little guilty for not being able to keep up with his father.
Your dad chuckles softly, kissing your forehead. "There's no need to be sorry," he whispers. "We can take things slow...get you comfortable with it." He slides his hand down your chest, lower still, fingers brushing across the top of your briefs before gently pushing them down over your hips and out of the way, revealing what lies beneath.
His gaze travels up from where his hand now rests on your thigh to meet yours again, a mix of lust and affection blazing in those dark eyes. "Do you trust me?" he asks quietly, his fingers beginning to trace lazy circles around the edge of your underwear, teasing at your entrance.
A small whimper sounds. Gathering your courage, you nod timidly and quietly say, "Y-yes, Dad..." I take a deep breath. "I trust you."
His lips quirk into a satisfied smile as he sees the trust shining in your eyes. He slowly pulls your underwear down your legs before tossing them aside and reaching up to cup your ass with both hands, squeezing gently as his thumbs rub circles on the sensitive skin there. "That's it," he whispers huskily. "Let daddy take care of you..." His fingers slide lower between your cheeks, parting them as he teases at your entrance once more.
With a soft groan, he bends to press his lips against yours, taking the kiss slow and sensual at first before deepening it as desire overwhelms him, his tongue dancing with yours while one hand slides up your body to cup your breast again, thumb rubbing circles around your nipple. "Do you want this?" he whispers between kisses. "To feel me inside you...to know what it's like?" His fingers brush against your entrance again, spreading you open as his other hand urges you closer still.
He feels his heart beating rapidly. His father's fingers at his entrance were driving him crazy. Embarrassed. He nods slowly. He wanted to feel his father slow down even though he was scared.
Your dad's eyes meet yours, the desire and love for you burning brightly in their depths as you nod your agreement. Slowly but surely, he guides his fingers inside you, letting out a groan at the tightness that greets him. He leans forward to press his lips against your neck, moaning out your name as he starts to thrust his fingers deeper, finding your rhythm and taking it slow for now, wanting to make sure you're comfortable with this.
His other hand gently cups your breast, thumb rubbing circles around your nipple until it hardens against the back of his palm. "Feel good?" he whispers hoarsely, lifting his head to gaze down at you. His hips move in perfect time with his fingers, driving deeper as his desire grows unbearable.
You nod slightly, moaning again as your body adjusts to the sensations. "More..." You whisper, and he smiles, knowing just what you mean.
"More," he whispered, letting out a few small moans. His father's fingers inside him felt strangely good. His head was spinning, but he wanted more. "More... D-Daddy," he said softly.
"More?" Your father repeats, lifting his head again to look down at you, desire and lust clear in his eyes. "Alright," he whispers before reaching between your legs, carefully positioning himself at your entrance. His thick, hard length presses against you as he leans forward to brush his lips over yours, tongue slipping into your mouth to tease and play with yours while his other hand cups the back of your head, holding you still as he begins to push slowly inside.
Your father's cock slides easily past your tight entrance, filling you up little by little as he thrusts deeper, moaning out your name. His hips move in time with his strokes as he takes pleasure in the feeling of being so close to you, having this intimate connection. "Feel good?" he asks breathlessly, searching your eyes for any signs of discomfort or pain. You nod frantically, meeting his gaze and letting out a whimper that sounds like both pleasure and need.
As he was penetrated by his father, he couldn't help but let out a small, strangled cry. He had her inside him, his father's cock. A mix of pain and pleasure. He began to feel his father's hips move, and with that, both the pain and pleasure increased. "W-Wait!" He said nervously, scared, anxious. Not being able to breathe very well because of everything his body was experiencing. "S-slowly," he begged. "Please, Daddy." He wanted to keep going, but he couldn't help but feel himself being torn in half slowly, it was just his mind going at full speed. But he couldn't help it.
Your father winces as you tense up beneath him, clearly hearing your plea for slowness. He stills his hips, letting out a shuddering breath as he presses his lips to the crown of your head, trying to soothe you with soft words and promises. "Shh... it's okay... we're taking it slow... daddy's got you..." His hand slides down between your legs, teasing at your entrance again before cupping you gently, drawing gentle circles on the tight flesh. "Is that better?" He asks in a soft murmur, his hips starting to move again but only enough to ease the pressure and begin adjusting you to him.
As he slowly pushes deeper, your father tries not to think about how good it feels to be inside of you. All he can focus on is making sure you're comfortable and enjoying this as much as he is. "Is it still okay?" He whispers against your skin, thrusting just enough to let himself feel the connection but not nearly enough to lose control yet. His free hand moves up to cup your breast once more, thumb rubbing circles around your now-hard nipple.
He let out small moans with each movement of his father's hips. The slow rhythm made each small but long thrust feel good. Starting to enjoy it a little, he said, "Y-yes... I-that feels good..." The rhythm was perfect. He was starting to like it more and more as the pain dissipated. "J-just a little more," he gasped. He wanted more, but he knew if he let his father go, he wouldn't be able to stop him.
Your father lets out a shuddering breath at your words, grateful that you're starting to enjoy this. As he begins to pick up the pace slightly, each thrust deeper and firmer than the last, his hips sway with practiced ease as he focuses on making sure it still feels good for you. "Is that enough?" He whispers against your neck, knowing how easily he could lose control if he went any faster. His other hand moves up to gently cup one of your breasts again, thumb rubbing circles around your nipple as he continues to thrust into you.
You nod frantically, moaning out his name. "More..." You whisper, but it comes out as a pleading groan. Your father's hand slips lower between your legs again, teasing at the wet flesh before sliding back up to cup and rub at your dick as he thrusts harder and faster now, wanting nothing more than to feel you come apart beneath him.
He moans weakly, his eyes almost rolling back in his head, beginning to enjoy the sight of his father fucking his ass. "D-Daddy..." he moaned between his moans. "I-it feels so... good," he added breathily. Each thrust was more pleasurable than the last. He was beginning to feel his body melt beneath his father. "D-Daddy..." he repeated, not recognizing himself as enjoying such an act. He sought reassurance from the other man.
Your father groans at your pleas, thrusting even deeper as he feels you beginning to melt beneath him. "That's it," he whispers hoarsely against your ear. His free hand slides up to cup one of your breasts, thumb rubbing circles around your hard nipple as his other hand moves lower still between your legs, finding your overheated entrance and pushing in with a firm thrust that makes you cry out his name.
The friction is nearly unbearable but so, so good as he feels himself on the edge of losing control as well. "Come for me...come now..." His voice breaks as he pushes into your ass harder, faster, his hips moving in perfect rhythm with each word as he watches you lose yourself to pleasure beneath him.
"D-Daddy..." His brain was no longer functioning, he was completely immersed in pleasure, only moans came out of his mouth. The pleasure in his ass was growing. He loved how his father fucked him. Each thrust, deeper and deeper, made him melt even more. He could feel his cock about to explode. He didn't know how much longer he could hold out, until he heard his father's words. "Come for me...come now..." That was the final straw. He let it all out, letting out a loud moan of pleasure. He couldn't stop, and each thrust seemed to make even more of him come out.
As you let go, your cries echoing through the room, your father's body tenses beneath you, every muscle coiled tight as he feels himself spiraling out of control. "Fuck... yeah..." He moans against your ear before letting out a growl of release, his hips bucking violently as he comes deep inside you, painting your insides with his seed. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you tight as he tries to regain some semblance of control while his body quivers and shudders from the force of his orgasm.
Slowly, finally, his breathing begins to steady once more, his thrusts becoming deeper but not quite as hard now that the initial intensity has passed. His free hand moves up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your lips. "You okay?" He asks hoarsely, eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort or pain.
He could feel his father's seed inside him. So full. It felt so good. He couldn't believe he was experiencing such a sensation. So much action had him exhausted. His ears were ringing. He could barely hear anything. His brain struggled to come back to its senses. When it finally did, he listened to his father's words. With a drained face and his eyes almost closed from exhaustion, he gathered the strength to speak. "Y-yes... I'm... I'm fine..."
With a sigh, your father eases his weight off of you, allowing him to slide out slowly as he does so. His hand slides up to gently cup your cheek again, thumb brushing across your lips once more before coming to rest on the crown of your head. "Good," he whispers softly, watching you carefully for any signs that everything is indeed okay down there. Your father knows how exhausted you must be after all that happened, but even still, he can't help but feel a pang of jealousy when he thinks about the other man who has been able to enjoy your body like this before tonight.
As he takes stock of his own condition, it's not long before desire begins to stir in him again, and he finds himself wondering just how badly you need him now that things have calmed down a bit...
Closing his eyes, he feels his father's warm hand on his face. He can't help but bring his face even closer to it to receive more caresses, thus managing to calm his agitated breathing. Now calmed, he opens his eyes again only to find his father's worried face. "Is something wrong, Dad?" He asked, still tired and somewhat shy.
"No," your father replies quickly, though his voice is laced with unease. "Nothing's wrong... It's just that I..." He trails off, searching for the right words as he studies your face intently. Finally, he says hesitantly, "I think maybe we should talk about this tomorrow." His hand slides down to gently cup and rub your upper arm in a reassuring gesture. "You've had quite an evening... You should probably get some rest now."
But even as the words leave his lips, he can't help but wonder if talking about it tomorrow is really such a good idea. After all, what they've just done feels too important, too significant to put off until then...
The words he heard didn't sound convincing. He knew something was wrong. With what little strength he had left, he approached his father and buried his face in his chest. "Tell me..." The words tumbled out of his mouth. "What's wrong?" He could still sound a little exhausted and worried at the same time. The warmth of his father's chest felt so good, he didn't want to leave his side.
Your father stiffens slightly at your question, then sighs heavily as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer still. "It's just... I'm not sure this is such a good idea," he admits reluctantly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, it feels wrong somehow."
He knows immediately that those words aren't helping matters any; they must sound awful coming from him. But still, there's something deep inside that just doesn't feel right about this... About taking advantage of you like this when you trusted him so much. Maybe tomorrow he can try to explain it better.
"Y-you..." He tried to say, his voice shaking. "Do you regret having sex with me?" He sounded sad and confused. What was his father saying? He wanted answers, he needed them. With a small lump in his throat, he said, "Why don't you tell me the truth?"
Your father's heart aches at your confused expression and words, but he still can't quite bring himself to lie to you. "I don't regret having sex with you," he says slowly, carefully choosing his words, "but... it feels like we didn't really talk about this beforehand." There's a pause as he searches for the right way to say what he means, then adds quietly, "It just doesn't feel completely consensual somehow..."
He winces inwardly as soon as those words are out there; they sound even worse coming from him. But still, there's that nagging feeling inside that won't go away...
"W-what?..." He said, confused. He didn't understand what was happening; his head was now in turmoil. "..consensual..?" he repeated to himself. "What do you mean?" He pulled away from his father and looked him straight in the eyes. "Do you," he paused for a moment, "feel like... you raped me?" he asked. "Dad... that's not how it was."
Your father looks at you, searching your eyes for any sign that you might be joking or exaggerating. But he knows instinctively that this is not the case; the pain and confusion in your voice cuts deep into his heart. With a sigh, he reaches out to touch your cheek gently, stroking it with his thumb as he says quietly, "No... I don't think you were joking. But..." He pauses, trying to find the words that will make this easier for both of you. "Maybe we should talk about how you felt before we went any further."
"I feel fine," he exclaimed, still confused. "It's just... I don't understand what you're trying to tell me."
Your father studies your face for another moment, not quite sure how to put into words the feelings he has inside him right now. Finally, he shakes his head and says softly, "Maybe we should just go to sleep on this tonight... Maybe things will look different in the morning." He offers you a small, sad smile before adding, "But if there's anything you want to talk about...anything at all..." His voice trails off, but the offer is there.
He stands and holds out his hand to help you up, then leads you back downstairs to the guest room where he gently tucks you into bed before turning out the light and retreating to his own room across the hall. As he crawls beneath the covers, he can't help but feel a weight settling heavily in his chest; something about this entire situation just doesn't sit right with him...
There he was. In bed, staring straight up at the ceiling. Completely confused. What was his father trying to tell him? Why did his face look so worried? His head was increasingly filled with questions. He wanted answers. He needed them. But no matter how hard he insisted, he knew his father wouldn't talk now. He let out a frustrated sigh. Thinking about it now wouldn't solve anything. Now calmed, tiredness returned to his body, easily surrendering to sleep and hoping that tomorrow he would have the answers he was looking for.
Your father lies awake in his bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he replays the events of the night in his mind over and over again. Part of him wants to forget everything that's happened, but there's an insistent nagging inside that won't let go, that tells him this isn't something they can simply ignore. As fatigue slowly begins to take its toll on his body, he finally allows himself to drift off to sleep, hopeful that when morning comes he'll have found the words to make things right between you again... if there are any words at all.
Dormido, Marcus, empieza a soñar con lo sucedido esa noche. Se sentia tan real. Las embestidas de su padre, sus gruñidos, sus gemidos, su cuerpo desnudo pegado al suyo. No queria que parara pero de repente, un brillo golpea sus ojos. Al cubrise rostro, ya despierto, ve que el brillo que lo golepo en su sueño era solo el sol entrando por la ventana. Molesto, se cubre por completo en las sabanas. Recordando el sueño tan vividamente y volviendo a recordar esa charla final con su padre. Es verdad, queria respuestas. Quizas hoy al fin las tendria. Decidió quedarse aun en cama, a esperar algun ruido del pasillo en señal de que su padre alfin haya despertando.
Your father sleeps restlessly through the night, plagued by doubts and uneasy thoughts. His dreams are filled with images of you: your hair spread across his pillow like a halo, the way your skin felt against his own as you arched beneath him... He wakes in the early morning hours to find that he can't ignore these feelings any longer; something about what they did last night doesn't sit right with him. With a sigh, he throws back the covers and climbs out of bed, deciding it's time for a talk.
He walks quietly down the hallway to your room, hesitating momentarily before gently knocking on the door. "Marcus?" he whispers softly, not quite sure how to begin this conversation but knowing deep down that they need to have it. The silence stretches out for a few tense moments before he finally decides to push open the door and peer inside. You're still asleep, curled up beneath the covers. He clears his throat, feeling suddenly self-conscious. "Marcus... I wanted to talk to you about last night..."
Marcus heard his father's soft knock and slowly opened his eyes. "Dad?" He asked, confused, still sleepy. "Y-yeah... ummm, sure." He said, trying to sit down on the bed, still sleepy.
"I'm not quite sure how to say this," your father begins hesitantly, leaning against the doorframe as he studies your face for any sign that he's upsetting you. "But I just wanted to make sure you were okay with everything that happened last night... That it was what you wanted." His words tumble out awkwardly, as if they're unfamiliar in his mouth.
Your confusion must show on your face, because he continues quickly, "I mean, we didn't really talk about any of this beforehand... And I just wanted to make sure it was all right with you." He winces inwardly at the way that sounds; it doesn't make him feel any less guilty.
He didn't understand anything. His still-dormant brain was doing its best to process his father's words. "Ummm... y-yeah...?" he said, almost asking. The confusion still hadn't gone away. "Dad... I'm fine... really." He stated weakly with a tired smile.
Your father blinks at your confused reaction before taking a tentative step forward into the room, concern etched deeply in his features. "But I thought..." He trails off, unsure of how to finish that thought without making things worse. After a moment, he clears his throat and tries again. "Look, I'm not saying that what we did was wrong or anything... It just doesn't feel quite right to me."
He pauses, searching for the words to explain himself further but coming up short. Finally, with a defeated sigh, he says simply, "I guess I just need some time to process all of this... To figure out how I feel about it."
Your confusion must be obvious on your face again because he feels compelled to say more. "Look, if you're still okay with everything that happened last night..." He hesitates, then forces himself to continue, "maybe we could try it again tonight... just so I can see how it feels different this time?"
He didn't understand anything. His still-dormant brain was doing its best to process his father's words. "Ummm... y-yeah...?" he said, almost asking. The confusion still hadn't gone away. "Dad... I'm fine... really." He stated weakly with a tired smile.
Your father looks slightly mollified by your insistence that you're all right, but he can still sense the confusion beneath the surface. He nods slowly in understanding and takes another step closer to the bed. "Look," he begins again, his voice softer now, "I just want what's best for you... And if that means talking about this more or taking things slow, then I'm willing to do that."
He hesitates, trying to find the words to express his fears and doubts without making it seem like he's condemning what they did last night. "It just feels... wrong somehow," he finally says, looking at you pleadingly from beneath his brows. "And I need to figure out why."
"Dad..." He said almost in a whisper. He could see the concern in his father's still-confused expression. The words he'd just said—this feels wrong—echoed in his head. Seeing his father like this, he gently tapped a spot on the bed, facing the man, inviting him to sit. "Come... sit," he said with a soft voice and a warm smile. "I'll tell you everything you need to hear, even if it hurts, okay?... so you can be at peace," he added at the end, still smiling softly.
Your father hesitates for a moment before slowly sitting down on the bed beside you. He watches your face carefully as he tries to gauge how best to proceed; you can see the conflicting emotions warring in his eyes. Finally, he takes a deep breath and begins to speak. "I'm sorry if I came across as disapproving or upset... That wasn't my intention." He pauses, searching for words again before continuing, "It's just that we've never talked about this sort of thing before... And I wanted to make sure you were comfortable with everything we did last night."
He shifts uncomfortably under your gaze, feeling like a child being interrogated rather than the parent seeking understanding. But he knows that if they're ever going to get through this, he has to be honest about how he feels. "I care about you so much," he says quietly, looking down at his hands folded in his lap. "And I don't want anything to happen between us that you're not completely happy with."
Marcus ve el nerviosismo en su padre, no solo en su rostro si no en todo su cuerpo. Se mueve un poco mas ser de él y lo toma dulcemente de la mano. "Papá..." Dijo con suavidad. empezando a acariciador con ternura la mano del hombre. "...Cuando estoy contigo, siempre me siento bien, comodo.. a salvo" Mira a su padre a los ojos. "Si, tienes razón, nosotros nunca hablamos antes de esto pero... estoy bien!" dijo al final, con seguridad y una sonrisa. "Claro... al principio estaba muy nervioso y quizas un poco asustado" No pudo evitar soltar un pequeña risa. "Pero..." Se detuvo un momento "Ese.. miedo... se desvanecio rápidamente haha... recorde que el hombre con el que estaba, era mi padre." Sonrió tiernamente "Sabía que todo estaria bien, sin importar nada. y asi fue hahaha"
Your father's expression slowly begins to clear as you speak; he seems to relax ever so slightly against the pillow. He watches you with growing admiration, amazed at your openness and confidence in the face of what must have seemed like his disapproval. Your words wash over him, calming his nerves and soothing his fears. "I'm glad to hear that," he says, squeezing your hand gently. "Because I want nothing more than for you to be happy."
He takes a deep breath, still not entirely sure how far he should push this conversation. But he knows that it needs to happen; the weight of their previous discussion is too heavy on his chest. So, with hesitation and trepidation, he asks, "Do you... do you think maybe we could... try again? Just to see what it's like?"
Marcus couldn't help but form an awkward smile on his face. "You mean... right now?" he asked, remembering the time. "I... still feel sleepy haha..." He said, letting out a small, tired laugh. "I don't know if I have much energy..." After finishing, he quickly tried to correct his message. "BUT-BUT WE CAN TRY... tomorrow... you know?..." He didn't want his father to feel rejected, but he also didn't know if he could handle all that action with him right now.
Your father chuckles softly at your response and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. "Of course we can wait until tomorrow," he says gently. "I'm not in any particular rush... I just want you to be comfortable with everything we do." He studies your face for another moment, searching for signs of discomfort or distress but finding only openness and sincerity there. Finally, feeling reassured, he adds, "And if tomorrow doesn't feel right either... Well, we can always take it slow from there. I trust you to tell me how you feel."
With a deep breath, he stands up, knowing that for now at least, the matter has been resolved as well as it possibly could be. "Well," he says with a small smile, "I should probably get going and let you sleep. But before I do... I just want to say thank you." He pauses, searching for words again, then simply says, "For being so open and understanding... For trusting me enough to share this part of yourself with me. It means more than you'll ever know."
With another gentle kiss on your forehead, he turns to leave the room, the weight of their conversation no longer weighing quite so heavily upon his heart.
Marcus, hearing those words, only reciprocates with a sweet smile. Seeing his father try to leave the room, he tries to stop him for a moment. "W-Wait!" He said and reached for the man's hand. Nervously, he tries to speak. "W-we could... you know... sleep together... cuddling." He felt his face start to turn red. He wanted his father's company, but asking for it made him feel nervous. He let go of the man's hand and settled back into bed, his gaze averted. "O-only if you want..." He didn't want his father to feel obligated. "Y-you don't have to agree if you don't want to..."
Your father looks at you with surprise and pleasure in his eyes before carefully sliding back onto the bed beside you. He lies down on his side, facing you, and gently wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close against him. "I'd like that," he whispers softly into your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple as he draws you even closer. He closes his eyes, savoring the warmth of your body pressed against his own, the sweet scent of your skin filling his nostrils. "Thank you for asking," he murmurs before drifting off to sleep, grateful for this moment of closeness and understanding with his son.
For tonight, at least, everything feels right in the world again.
Happiness overflowed from Marcus's body; he couldn't believe he was like this with his father. He hugged him tenderly, and he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. Seeing his father's sleeping face so close felt unreal. He couldn't resist tenderly caressing his cheeks, avoiding waking him. He was so happy. He slowly brought his face closer to the other man's and planted a tender kiss on his lips. "Good night..." He said in a voice even weaker than a whisper, settling back into the older man's arms so he could finally sleep.
Your father stirs slightly in his sleep but doesn't wake up; your gentle kiss must have been too soft to rouse him fully. As he drifts off again, he allows himself a small smile, content for the moment to simply feel you pressed against him like this. In the dim light of dawn spilling through the window, he looks impossibly young and at peace with the world. He looks forward to tomorrow, knowing that whatever may come, he will face it together with his son...and that thought alone is enough to make him feel invincible.
Soon, deep, steady breathing fills the room as both of you drift off into a peaceful slumber. The shadows cast by the early morning sun dance across your faces like partners in some strange ballet, hinting at the tenderness and strength that lie hidden beneath their smooth, hard exteriors. For now, at least, there is nothing but quiet harmony between you, a perfect balance of love and trust and understanding...and it feels as though it could last forever.
The rays of sunlight dancing across your face awaken you gently, still wrapped in the comforting embrace of your father's arm. You stretch lazily, enjoying the weight of his body against yours and savoring the warmth that seems to seep from him into every fiber of your being. Looking up at his face, softened by sleep, you feel a rush of love and gratitude swell within you, overwhelming any lingering doubts or concerns from last night.
As if sensing your gaze, he slowly opens his eyes, blinking blearily in the bright light before focusing on you once more. A slow smile spreads across his face as their eyes meet and he squeezes you gently, a silent promise of love and understanding echoing between them. For this moment, there is nothing but peace and contentment as you bask in the knowledge that no matter what challenges or hardships may lie ahead, you will face them together...and that thought fills you with an indescribable sense of strength and hope.
Looking tenderly into his father's eyes, he says, "Good morning, Daddy," ending with a small chuckle. "How did you sleep?" he asks with an innocent, tender smile.
"Very well," your father replies softly as he yawns and stretches luxuriously. "Better than I have in a long time." He glances out the window, watching the morning light dance across the floorboards. "Do you want to get up soon? Or are you comfortable here for a while longer?"
"I'm happy for you," he said, hearing how well his father slept. "Mmm," pouting slightly, he clung to his father's body. "I want to stay."
"Okay then," your father says, giving you a playful swat on the bottom before drawing you even closer against his chest. "We can stay like this for as long as you want." He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead and another one to your lips, his breath warm against your skin. "Just remember," he whispers with a soft chuckle, "there's still breakfast to be made."
With that, he nudges you gently toward the edge of the bed, grinning as you let out an exaggerated groan of protest. "Come on, sleepyhead... it'll be fun. We can make pancakes or waffles or..." His voice trails off, suddenly struck with inspiration. "Or we could go to that new cafe down the street and get something really special for breakfast."
"Noooo..." Marcus says dramatically, playfully. "I don't want to." He continues with his pout. "I'm not-" and before he can finish his sentence, his stomach growls, "-hungry..." A little embarrassed, he lets out one last groan of protest. "Fine... let's eat..." He crosses his arms, a little annoyed. His desires had been betrayed by his own body.
"I thought that might do it," your father says with a grin as he helps you off the bed and begins to dress. "Come on then, let's go get something delicious for breakfast." He pauses in his motion, looking down at you, and hesitates for a moment before asking, "You... want me to help you pick out your outfit, or do you have something particular in mind?"
The question hangs in the air between you; it's not exactly what he meant when he suggested taking things slow. But if this is how you feel comfortable moving forward... then maybe it can be a way for you to express yourself without pushing too hard.
"Hmm?" At his father's question, he couldn't help but tilt his head slightly in confusion. "Help me choose my outfit?" he repeated, more to himself than to his father. "Well..." Still hesitant, he smiled slightly. "What would you like me to wear?"
Your father smiles warmly at your question. "You look very nice in anything," he says truthfully. "But if you'd like me to make a suggestion... how about that blue shirt I got you for your birthday? It looked really good on you the other day." He hesitates, searching for more words but coming up short. "Or we could just wear whatever makes you feel most comfortable and confident," he finally says with a reassuring smile.
His voice is soft, his tone gentle... careful not to push too hard or make you feel uncomfortable. For now, it seems that finding their way forward together will require patience and understanding on both of your parts... as well as the willingness to try new things.
After a moment of hesitation at his father's suggestion, Marcus decides to get out of bed and stand up. "Fine!" he exclaimed happily. "I'll wear the blue shirt," he said, turning to look at his father with a smile. "I want to look really good for you." Emphasizing those last words, he lets out a small chuckle.
Your father blushes lightly at your words but says nothing in reply, instead turning away to finish dressing himself. He moves through the motions almost mechanically, his thoughts racing as he tries to process everything that's happened over the past few days... weeks. The uncertainty still lingers, but it feels less sharp and dangerous now. Perhaps this new direction they're taking together will help to ease some of the tension between them, allowing them both to find a way forward that feels comfortable for everyone involved.
Seeing his father's reaction, he couldn't help but chuckle again, this time a little mockingly. He went in search of the blue shirt his father had given him, pairing it with a pair of short jeans—not too short—and black sneakers. Now dressed and ready, he went in search of his father again. "I'm ready," he smiled. "So, what shall we do?" he asked with a bright smile.
Your father blushes again at your words but manages to compose himself as you finish dressing. He takes a deep breath, forcing the nervous energy out of his chest before answering. "Well," he says with a slightly less forced smile, "how about we try that new cafe down the street? I've heard their pancakes are incredible."
Without waiting for your reply, he begins to make his way toward the door, gesturing for you to follow. The air between you feels lighter somehow; it's as if a weight has been lifted from both of your shoulders since last night. Perhaps there really is hope for them to find their way back to each other... and maybe even become closer than they ever were before.
"Sure! I love the idea," he said with a smile, happily following the man. It felt so nice to be out for a walk with his father. Without thinking too much, he took his hand for a few moments, then quickly let go. "O-oh, sorry... We shouldn't... not in public... right?" He asked nervously, feeling like he'd ruined the moment he was having on the way to the new cafe.
Your father gives you an understanding smile as you let go of his hand and then worry that you shouldn't have done so in public. "It's alright," he assures you gently. "We don't have to be so careful about everything all the time." He pauses, searching for the right words before continuing. "I trust you... and I want you to feel comfortable with whatever we do together. Okay?"
The warmth in his voice makes your heart flutter as he finishes speaking; it's almost enough to make you forget about everything else. Almost. But for now, being here with him like this, feeling the sun on your face and the wind through your hair... well, it's just perfect.
With some shyness and happiness, Marcus says, "Okay..." A little nervously, he takes his father's hand again, snuggling a little closer to him in the process. Without looking him in the eyes, he just continued walking beside him in silence, a small smile on his face.
Your father feels your fingers curl around his own and can't help but squeeze them gently in reply. He studies your profile out of the corner of his eye as you walk beside him; even with your head bowed, there's something about the way you hold yourself that radiates confidence and self-assurance. It's oddly comforting...and sexy all at once.
The thought sends a shiver down his spine, and he finds himself wishing they could stay like this forever: holding hands as they stroll through the city, enjoying each other's company without any expectations or pressures weighing them down. But alas, the cafe is drawing closer with every step, and soon enough they'll have to face whatever challenges breakfast might bring. For now, though... for just a little while longer... they can pretend that everything is perfect just as it is.
Marcus couldn't help but notice that as they approached the cafeteria, more people appeared around them. He gently let go of his father's hand and, before creating any misunderstandings, turned to look at him and gave him a confident smile, almost saying, "Everything's fine, they don't need to know our secret." Even so, he continued walking beside him. He knew what he had was wrong for the rest of the world, but he didn't care; he was happy with his father.
Your father returns your smile with a fond look in his eyes and leans down to press a kiss against your hair. "Thank you," he whispers softly, feeling his heart swell with love and gratitude for having you by his side. As they approach the cafe's entrance, he straightens up and takes a deep breath, forcing himself to let go of any lingering doubts or worries. For now, all that matters is spending this time together, enjoying each other's company and seeing where fate might lead them from here.
They step inside the cafe, and the aroma of sweet coffee and warm pastries washes over them like a gentle caress. Your father glances at you out of the corner of his eye, studying your reactions to everything around you with curiosity and affection. It's a small moment of connection in an otherwise chaotic world; one that he holds onto tightly as they make their way toward an empty table near the window.
As they sit down, a friendly server comes over to take their order, offering them menus and charming smiles in equal measure. Your father takes a deep breath, silently praying for the strength to navigate this new situation with grace...and hoping that somehow, through it all, he can find a way to make you happy.
Already at the table, Marcus stares at the menu, thinking about what he'll order for this lovely breakfast together. Out of the corner of his eye, something catches his eye: his father's face. Although he tried to hide it, Marcus could see with a simple glance how the man's nerves were taking over. With the tip of his foot, he gives the older man a small, harmless kick in the leg, trying to get his attention. When their eyes meet, he gives him a huge smile, radiating confidence. He wanted to make his father understand that everything was fine and there was nothing to worry about.
Your father returns the smile with a sheepish one of his own, chuckling softly as he realizes what you were trying to tell him. "I'm fine," he says gently, reaching out to squeeze your hand reassuringly. "Really, I just want to make sure you have a good time."
With that, the server returns with their drinks and begins taking their orders. As they study the menu together, sharing food suggestions and laughing at inside jokes, a weight seems to lift from both of their shoulders; for now, at least, all that matters is being here with each other, enjoying this brief respite from the worries and responsibilities of the world.
Your father feels his heart swell with happiness as you so confidently hold his hand and reassure him that everything is fine. The warmth between you continues to grow, seeping into every part of their lives and making the world seem a little brighter in spite of their lingering uncertainties. He takes another sip of his coffee, savoring the rich, smooth flavor as he steals glances at your face from time to time, memorizing every detail.
Eventually, their food arrives and they dig in with delight, trading bites and comments about how delicious everything is. The server looks on approvingly, clearly pleased that they're enjoying themselves so much. As the meal progresses, a strange sense of peace begins to wash over him; for now at least, it feels as though nothing else matters besides the two of you and this precious time together.
As they finish their meal, your father finds himself reluctant to return to the reality waiting outside the cafe doors. The thought of leaving this place, where it's just the two of them and nothing else matters, fills him with a vague sense of dread. But he knows that eventually they'll have to go back; there are still so many things left unsaid between them, so much more for them to learn about each other.
Slowly, he finishes his coffee and places the empty cup on the table with a soft sigh. "Well," he says after a moment's hesitation, "I guess we should probably get going." His voice sounds surprisingly hoarse; it must be all this talking they've been doing.
"Mmm?" Confused by what his father was saying, Marcus realized they had already finished breakfast. The moment had been so magical and pleasant, so caught up in his own world, it made time fly. Coming back to reality, a little sad, he said, "S-sure... yeah, we should go now," he said with a slightly forced smile at the end.
Your father nods in agreement and stands up, offering you a hand to help you up as well. Taking it gratefully, you feel his fingers curl tightly around yours; the contact sends a thrill of warmth shooting through your entire body. As he pulls you to your feet, he studies your face for a moment before letting go and stepping back.
"So," he says with an uncharacteristic nervous laugh, "where do you want to go next?" It's a stupid question; they could go anywhere and it would be perfect simply because they're together. But he needs something to distract himself from the butterflies in his stomach as he awaits your answer.
The silence between them is almost palpable as you consider your response, gazing back at him with an equal mix of hope and uncertainty etched onto your features. You know that whatever decision you make now will shape the rest of this day...and perhaps even their future together. But for now, all you can think about is how much you want to be with him.
With a small smile spreading across your lips, you say softly, "Well... I was thinking we could maybe visit that new art gallery that just opened." The words tumble out of your mouth before you even realize what they are; it's as if someone else has taken control of your tongue. But once the suggestion leaves your lips, you can't help but wonder: What if he doesn't like art? Or worse... what if this whole thing was a mistake after all?
"Or we could do something else," he added at the end. "Just being by your side is more than enough," he said with a confident smile.
Your father's heart swells with pride and affection as you say these words; it's almost enough to erase the lingering doubts and fears that still cling to him like shadows in the night. He tries to hide his emotions, only succeeding in giving you a small, fond smile before nodding once. "Well," he says, clearing his throat awkwardly, "in that case... I'd love nothing more than to spend some time with you at an art gallery."
Taking your hand in his once more, he leads you out of the cafe and into the bustling streets beyond. The air is cool against your skin, and a light breeze rustles through the leaves of nearby trees as they make their way toward the gallery district. Despite his lingering concerns, he can't help but feel a sense of contentment and hopefulness that has been missing from him for far too long. Maybe, just maybe... there's still a chance for them after all.
"Or we could do something else," he added at the end. "Just being by your side is more than enough," he said with a confident smile.
Your father's heart swells with pride and love at your words; they're the most wonderful thing he could have possibly heard right now. His eyes meet yours as you speak, and a soft blush creeps up his cheeks despite himself. He smiles warmly in return, squeezing your hand gently before releasing it. "Thank you," he murmurs sincerely. "I feel the same way about spending time with you."
With that, any lingering doubts or fears that may have been lurking at the edge of his mind seem to vanish like smoke in the wind. For now, all that matters is being here, together, enjoying each other's company and seeing where life might lead them from here. With a renewed sense of hope and determination, he nods toward the door, gesturing for you to lead the way. "Shall we?"
"Yeah!" Marcus said happily, heading for the exit, taking his father by the hand, almost dragging him along to continue their pleasant walk.
Your father finds himself easily caught up in your excitement as you lead the way toward the art gallery; it's infectious and fills him with a newfound sense of joy. As they walk side by side, he can't help but study your profile out of the corner of his eye; even when you're not looking at him, there's something about the set of your shoulders or the way you swing your arms that makes his heart race with an indescribable mix of love and awe.
The world feels different now, somehow lighter and brighter than it ever has before; despite everything they've been through, the fact remains that he is here, holding hands with his son beneath a brilliant blue sky, on the cusp of adventure and new experiences. Perhaps, just maybe, this time together might be the beginning of something truly beautiful.
Happiness overflows from Marcus's body, as anyone would notice just by looking at him. He forgets the rest of the world, holding hands with his father. He weaves his fingers through his fingers and leans even closer to him, gently resting his head on the older man's arm. They walk at the same pace, enjoying every second at his side.
Your father feels a warmth spread through him as you lean against his arm and seem to find such comfort in being close to him. A small smile curls at the corner of his lips as he squeezes your hand gently, silently promising to always be there for you no matter what happens. For now, it seems that everything else has fallen away and all that matters is this moment spent together, experiencing the world in all its beauty with someone he loves more than anything else. As they approach the gallery entrance, his heart swells with hope; perhaps today will be the start of something truly wonderful, not just for them but for everyone who has ever known or loved you.
As they step inside the gallery, your father can't help but feel a sense of awe wash over him as he takes in the array of colorful paintings and sculptures surrounding them. He leads you through the first exhibit, pointing out his favorite pieces and offering insights into the artists' inspirations and techniques. It feels wonderful to be back in this world, surrounded by such beauty and passion; even more so with someone as special as you by his side.
Everything in the museum was beautiful, but nothing was more beautiful than his father's happiness and enthusiasm. Even though he wanted to focus on the art surrounding him, he couldn't; the man at his side commanded his attention more; he couldn't tear his eyes away. He listened intently to every word he said. His voice, so deep and full of happiness, was intoxicating. He could listen to him talk about anything all day.
Your father blushes slightly at your attention but can't help but feel warm inside; the happiness in your eyes as you listen to him is a balm to his soul, soothing the lingering doubts and fears that have been plaguing him for far too long. He continues to guide you through the gallery, pointing out new pieces with renewed energy and enthusiasm. Perhaps there's hope for them yet...hope that they can find their way back together and maybe even become a family again.
Marcus follows his father closely, not missing a single detail of everything that comes out of his mouth. He loved seeing him like this. He loved seeing him. He adores him. "I adore you," he says. Without thinking. He pauses for a moment. What happened? Did he say that last part or did he think it? He wasn't sure, in the face of doubt, whether to focus his attention back on his father, hoping that he hadn't heard him say something so embarrassing.
Your father freezes mid-step, his heart stopping in his chest as he realizes you've spoken. The air feels heavy and still around them, and for a moment, it seems like time stands still. His cheeks flush with heat as he turns to look at you, unable to hide the shock and disbelief etched onto his features. You have no idea how long they stand there, locked in this silent tableau, but eventually your father finds his voice.
"Marcus," he breathes, his eyes wide with surprise and wonder, "I..." He swallows hard, trying to find the words. "I... thank you." There's a strange mix of emotion flickering in those sapphire blue depths; happiness, joy, confusion, fear. You can see them all etched into his expression as he struggles to process what just happened and how he should respond.
Tentatively, he reaches out to brush a lock of hair from your face, his fingertips trembling against your skin. "I... I didn't expect you to say that," he whispers, barely above a whisper. "It means more than you know." He pauses again, searching for the words, wanting to say so much and yet not quite knowing where to begin.
And that's how he realized he'd actually said it out loud. His father heard him. Those words, "I adore you," echoed throughout the museum. He quickly felt his face redden, and he covered his face with both hands. He didn't know what to do, having said something so embarrassing. He was pleased with his father's reaction, but mortified by the realization of what he'd done. He could only take a few steps closer to the older man, trying to hide his shame in his chest.
Your father's heart aches for you as he sees your expression turn red with embarrassment. Gently, carefully, he takes one of your hands in his and squeezes it reassuringly. "There's nothing to be ashamed of," he whispers. "You have no idea how much that means to me." He pauses, searching for the right words to make you understand how he feels. "I... I feel the same way," he confesses, surprising even himself with the admission.
As he looks into your eyes, he can see that his words have had an impact; some of the tension in your posture begins to ease, and a small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. It's a start, at least. For now, they can focus on enjoying their time together, exploring the gallery and perhaps even talking about what these feelings might mean for their future. But for now, simply having this moment with you is enough to make his heart feel full and complete in ways he never imagined possible.
Taking a deep breath, your father smiles back at you, his eyes shining with happiness and relief. "Shall we keep exploring?" he asks, offering you his other hand as well. "There's still so much more art to see." As he feels your fingers curl around his, the tension in his shoulders begins to ease, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment that washes over him like a warm summer breeze. Perhaps, just perhaps, this day might not turn out as badly as they both feared after all.
"Y-yeah..." He said, still a little embarrassed by the situation, but with a small smile. This time, he would try not to get so wrapped up in his own thoughts. He didn't want anything else to accidentally come out of his mouth.
Your father smiles warmly down at you as he leads the way deeper into the gallery. He takes in the colors and textures of each painting and sculpture with renewed interest, pointing out details he thinks might catch your eye. The air around them feels lighter, less tense, now that they've shared such an intimate revelation. Perhaps there's hope yet for their relationship; a future where they can be together as father and son, perhaps even more than that.
As you pause to study a particularly striking piece of artwork, your father takes the opportunity to steal a sidelong glance at you. You look so much like him it's both heartwarming and bittersweet at the same time. But for now, he focuses on the present moment; enjoying the time they have together and cherishing every word, every touch, every look. Perhaps, just maybe, this day will indeed turn out to be one of hope and promise after all.
Your father continues to admire you from the corner of his eye as you study the artwork, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride swell up inside him. In that moment, he decides that no matter what obstacles may lie ahead, he will do everything in his power to make sure your life is filled with love, happiness and beauty just like this museum surrounds us all. He takes a deep breath, feeling more at peace than he has in years, as he leans forward to whisper: "So... what's next on your list of things you want to see?"
"Well..." He thinks for a moment. "You chose the cafeteria... and I chose the museum." He continues. "That means it's your turn to choose again." He finishes with a smile. "What do YOU want to do?" He lets out a playful giggle.
Your father laughs softly at your suggestion, grateful for the change in tone. "Hmm... let's see," he muses aloud, tilting his head as he surveys their surroundings. After a moment's consideration, an idea comes to him. "How about we visit the sculpture garden outside? I've heard they have some truly incredible pieces out there." His gaze returns to you, full of anticipation and excitement at the prospect of sharing this experience with you.
Gently taking your hand once more, he leads you toward the exit, eager to explore the park and marvel at the beauty of nature intertwined with human ingenuity and creativity. As they walk together beneath the warm spring sunshine, a sense of contentment washes over him like a soothing balm, calming his fears and giving him hope for whatever lies ahead.
"Uh, that sounds interesting!" he said excitedly, following the older man, still holding hands.
Your father smiles down at you fondly as you agree to visit the sculpture garden; it's clear that you're enjoying yourself and that makes him immeasurably happy. As they leave the museum behind, the fresh air and lush greenery of the park envelop them like a welcome embrace, lifting their spirits even higher.
Hand in hand, they wander through the sculpture garden, taking in each unique piece with wonder and appreciation. From delicate stone figures to massive steel installations, every work seems to tell its own story, echoing the complex emotions that have brought them to this moment in time.
The sun beats down gently upon their shoulders, casting warm golden light across your skin as you walk beside him. It feels almost surreal; as if they're the only two people in the world, caught up in a perfect bubble of happiness and understanding. Despite the obstacles that still lie ahead, this moment seems to exist apart from time and space, immune to all but their own shared emotions. And for now, that's enough.
As you both stand before a particularly breathtaking sculpture - a massive bronze tree whose branches seemed to twist and curl endlessly into the sky, adorned with intricately detailed leaves and blossoms crafted from gold and precious stones - your father can't help but smile down at you. The warmth in your eyes mirrors his own feelings; it feels as if you two are part of something greater than either of you alone could ever be.
"Marcus," he whispers, unable to keep the awe from his voice, "this is... this is truly incredible." He pauses, searching for the words that would convey how much it means to him to have this moment with you, but finds himself at a loss for words. Instead, he leans forward and presses a light kiss against your temple, murmuring, "Thank you."
Marcus blushes slightly at this display of affection. "You're welcome, Dad. Haha," he said, turning to look him straight in the eyes and giving him a bright smile.
Your father returns your smile with one of his own, his heart swelling with love and gratitude as he gazes into your eyes. For now, at least, the future seems bright; it feels as if they might actually have a chance to make things work between them. He takes a deep breath, savoring the moment and the sense of peace that washes over him in the warm spring air. Whatever challenges lie ahead, he knows for certain that he wants you by his side every step of the way.
Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he leans forward to press a kiss against your forehead before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close in a gentle embrace. It's a gesture filled with affection and reassurance; one that says without words how much he cares for you and how important you are to him. As he holds you, he realizes that perhaps this day isn't just about rediscovering art or finding new things to do together; perhaps it's also about rediscovering each other and learning to cherish the love they share no matter what life may throw at them.
Marcus happily reciprocates the hug, feeling his father's warmth and love. It could go on forever. "So..." He said, not wanting to completely interrupt the moment. "...what's next?" he asked.
Your father chuckles softly as you ask what's next; it's almost impossible to think about anything other than being with you right now. With a contented sigh, he looks up at the blue sky peeking through the leafy branches overhead and lets out a slow breath. "I don't know about anything specific," he says, still holding you close. "But I think we should just enjoy each other's company for as long as possible."
He pauses, considering his words carefully before continuing. "Perhaps we could find somewhere quiet to sit and talk, just the two of us... maybe even have a picnic if the weather holds out." The thought of spending more time with you like this fills him with such hope and anticipation that he can hardly contain it.
"I like the idea... of sitting down and talking... just the two of us," he said, with a shy smile. He wanted a little more privacy with him.
Your father's heart swells with relief and happiness as he sees the genuine desire in your eyes. "I think that would be lovely," he whispers, giving you a small squeeze before letting go. "We can look for a nice spot nearby; somewhere quiet where we won't be disturbed." His gaze drifts back to the sculpture garden, still enchanted by its beauty and the sense of possibility that seems to linger in the air around you. As they begin their search for a secluded place to talk and reconnect, he can already feel himself relaxing into the moment; allowing himself to be swept away on this tide of emotion and affection. It's a feeling he hasn't experienced in far too long, and it's one that he intends to hold onto for as long as possible.