Page 113 of Dean

I’ll have all the fucking dreams about this, I think as I move my hand across his stomach and feel the ripple of need as I cup his cock in my fist. I work him toward the edge, feeling his rim clutch around my dick, and when he comes, I do as well, the two of us falling over the edge together.

Avery is trembling when he comes down from it, falling onto me and into his mess, his face nuzzling into my neck.

“That won’t ever get old.”

“No, it won’t. Come here.”

He does, letting me pull him into my side as I press my face into his hair.

The scent of him, flowers and cake and sex, is more than I can take. My eyes water and I feel emotions rolling through me. I feel so much at this moment. I like him so much.

I never thought I’d come to want this so badly, and maybe I will never fully understand it, but Avery fills something inside of me. Something I didn’t know was missing until I felt it. Until I realized it was missing.

And I feel it now. I feel it slowly being filled, spilling over into my heart and taking root in my mind.

He may be younger than me, but I want more of it.

I want all of him. Forever.

“Shit, I didn’t know this was here,” I say, finding the drill I borrowed from Ford ages ago among my tools at the shop. He told me I borrowed it, but I swore I hadn’t. I figured he’d just lost it, but now here it is, buried under a bunch of shit I haven’t touched in months.

I need to return it. He’s been asking me about it for a home-improvement project he’s working on. I’m a terrible friend. You don’t just lose a drill. Not one this nice.

And since Avery has been out with Kit all afternoon, leaving me to twiddle my thumbs and wait for him, I might as well stop by now. I have nothing better to do.

I lock up the shop and hop on my motorcycle, putting the drill in the small bag on the back, and drive to Ford’s house. When I pull into his driveway, I notice that Ben’s car is parked outside, too. That’s fucking weird, but also not really? I mean, he grew up with Ford and Cash. They’re like father figures to him.

Maybe Ben needed something.

Or maybe…I shake that thought away.

No, no way. Right?

I don’t fucking know.

My knuckles hit the doorframe, and it swings open, Ford’s face stilling when he sees me.

“Hey, been missing something?” I hold up the drill as if he needs the explanation, and Ford rolls his eyes. And as he does, I see Ben behind him, looking slightly nervous.

“Hey, D-Dad,” he stutters as Ford takes a step back from the entryway and joins Cash in the kitchen. Ben’s cheeks are flushed, his throat bobbing slightly as he looks at me.

I don’t know why he seems so upset, but maybe he’s just had a bad fucking day.

I get that. I totally get that.

Or maybe I’ve interrupted something. I look over at Cash and Ford, who are acting a little shifty.

Well, hell. I could be imagining it, but now that I think about it…the little things I’ve been noticing might all make sense…

“Oh. Hey, Ben. Sorry…I was just swinging by on my way home to return Ford’s power drill when I saw your car outside. Is everything okay?” I can’t help but ask. I am his father, after all. I set the drill down and run my hand through my hair, feeling slightly bad that I asked this in front of everyone. I never want to put him on the spot like that.

I never want him to feel like he owes me an explanation. Even if I kinda want one.

“Oh, yeah, I just…Cash and Ford invited me over for dinner. A celebration for acing my midterm.”

Oh shit, so maybe I got it wrong. Maybe it’s nothing more. Maybe he wanted to celebrate with them and not me. I can’t help my face falling slightly, and I know he feels like shit.

“I’m glad to hear it,” I say, eyeing my son. He just nods, standing up and moving to grab some wine from the fridge, as if he’s been here a hundred times before.

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