Page 19 of Light Me Up

IAN

I have a problem. A big, burly, muscular, secret teddy bear of a problem.

It was bad enough when I had a lusty crush on my best friend's dad, but then I went and caught feelings.

Realfeelings.

The kind of feelings that have me wishing things were different. That our lives weren't so different. That he wasn't my best friend's father.

That he would keep me.

"You're staring," Henry grumbles, his face barely illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the blinds.

"Guilty."

He opens his eyes, and I marvel at his face from all angles. The scruff he's grown out over the last weekend accentuates the laugh lines around his eyes, and I love every single one of them. I love that there's evidence that he's not as surly as he likes to pretend. I run a finger over them, tracing his jaw and lightlyscraping my fingernails through the stubble that is quickly becoming a short beard.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Your massive cock," I say, which gets a laugh out of him.

"Don't talk about it like that. You might wake it up."

I smirk and return my cheek to his chest, nestling my face in his chest hair. We've been sleeping in the same bed almost all week, since I've been sneaking in here at night after Michael goes to bed. Every night, it seems, our bodies grow closer, like magnets. Even on the first night, we woke up touching, his arm thrown around my waist. Then two nights ago, we fell asleep touching. Last night, I fit my back against his chest, just as an experiment. He accepted my cuddling without balking, making a surprisingly clingy big spoon. I woke up this morning with his arm and leg thrown over me, pinning me against his front. And tonight, after I finally got him to release me so we could clean ourselves up, he pulled me right back down on his chest.

And I don't ever want to leave.

As if sensing my serious thoughts, Henry strokes his hand up and down my arm and kisses the top of my head.

"I've been meaning to ask," he says, almost tentatively. "What were your plans for after the summer? When Michael's project is done, I mean."

I don't want to answer him, because I don't want to seem like the irresponsible errant child I know he's always thought I am. But then again, maybe hearing some disappointment from him might drag me back into reality.

"Honestly? I'm not sure yet. I don't really want to work for a big firm like Mike, but it's not realistic for me to bank on living off my art." I sigh and give him the whole truth. "Half the reason I came home with Mike was because I was feeling a bit aimless. I'm not actually convinced he actually needs my help."

"Sounds like something he'd do," Henry says. "But I do think you're helping. He has a girlfriend because of you. You helped him open up, and I'm appreciative of that." He's silent for a moment, before he speaks so low I almost miss it. "I was afraid he'd end up like me."

I turn my body so I'm lying on my side next to him, while he lies on his back, looking up at the ceiling. "What's so wrong with ending up like you?"

Henry cringes. After a long while, I give up on waiting for him to answer me, but he sighs, filling his lungs with air and expelling a deep, slow breath.

"I'm almost fifty years old and I've spent every day, save this last week or so with you, alone. I didn't even know I was missing anything. I just buried myself in work, my routine, fatherhood." He looks at me, and I can just make out the way he narrows his eyes. "I blamed you for taking Michael away from me, for him not coming home every weekend, for invading the little time I had with him. It was unfair and immature of me."

"I didn't exactly make it easy for you to like me," I say with a chuckle.

"You're nothing but yourself, all the time, no matter what. I think that's commendable. Fuck anyone that doesn't like it."

I smirk, but I'm not sure he can see it. "Oh, I did," I say pointedly.

Henry growls in response, yanking me against him and rolling his big body over me. "You better watch your mouth, young man, or I'll wash it out with my cock."

"Ooh, yes Daddy."

Mike is coming home today. I feel guilty for wishing the weekend would last longer. Sneaking around with Henry has its moments of fun, but living in the bubble of perfection we've been in for the last three days has been amazing.

I woke up to my cock being sucked, before Henry made me go for a long, slow jog with him. We walked along the golf course for a while, laughing and talking about nothing of consequence. He's been asking me a lot more questions about my personal life, like what I want to be when I grow up. The words I want to say stay locked inside. More than once, I notice him looking sad and pensive.

When we got home, we took a shower together, lathering each other up and touching each other. I fucked him against the wall, slowly and tenderly, letting the water wash away the evidence of my emotional turmoil. I’m still a bit raw from it.

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