Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
Duncan
The moment the door the dressing room shuts, Felix is practically tearing my pants off.
And I don’t bother fighting him, because I can’t deny I have been thinking about break time since we pulled into the studio this morning.
Knowing Eddie, Corpse, and even Lou are flitting about while Felix and I are in here, only drives my satisfaction.
I bite at Felix’s lip as he slides his hand in my pants, grabbing my swollen cock. His teeth nip at my lip ring, which I’ve taken to wearing again, if only because it seems to be something that drives him crazy, and makes me feel younger.
Like I’m twenty again. And despite my lack of intimacy over the last decade, my cock has forgotten its age, too.
With Felix, I feel more than just young.
I feel alive.
With only six days until the big show, everything is falling into place.
Marci’s sister will be flying in after the show, to officially take over house and kid-sitting while I pack my things and head off on this tour, which is both thrilling and a little nerve wracking.
But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to perform for a stadium full of people, alongside Felix.
His fingernails dig into the flesh of my cock and I have to stifle a groan as he pushes me down onto the couch, making the pillows go flying.
My cock bobs freely as my acid wash jeans fall to my ankles.
I told Felix he didn’t have to keep buying me clothes, but when I said the words, he looked like he was about to throw one of his Felix tantrums, complete with waterworks, and he actually fucking pouted. Then, he threatened to buy me a new car instead. So, I relented on the personal styling fees.
Who am I to deny a spoiled brat?
It doesn’t take long before his hot little mouth is wrapped around me, his fingers twisting and pulling as he strokes me.
I hiss and let my eyelids fall closed.
Then my phone interrupts us, ringing with vibrancy.
Felix pauses as I grunt in defeat.
“It’s Bobby, I have to take this.” I sigh.
He rarely calls me, unless it’s important, and already my parental worries start to swirl.
Felix bites his lip, nodding, but he doesn’t move from his spot between my legs.
Instead he just lazily draws lines along the inside of my thigh, dangerously close to my cock, while he intently watches me.
“Bobby? Is everything okay?” I answer the call as I sit up, lightly pushing Felix aside so that I can stand.
He moves languidly, pulling his knee up to his chest, his tongue jiggling his lip ring.
My cock twitches as his gaze focuses on me.
“Everything is fine, Dad. I just wanted to ask when you were coming home?”
His voice is even, but I detect a hint of nerves.
“We’re wrapping up in about an hour, why? Did you want to go somewhere for dinner tonight?”
“Actually, I was thinking I could make dinner, and maybe... um... maybe I could bring a friend over. To meet you, of course.”
My blood chills, because I’m aware by the enunciation of the word “friend”, that this kid is more than just a friend.
“What, uh... what friend?” I ask, biting my lip.
I adjust my cock in my boxers and zip my pants up, watching as Felix’s bright eyes sparkle with intrigue.
I mouth my apology, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He just keeps watching me with an evil grin that makes me worried he’s lost his marbles or something.
“Brendan. I know I’ve mentioned him before, and I just, uh... I thought it would be cool to introduce you.”
“Of course. It’s fine. Just don’t make me cook,” I tease.
Bobby sighs, but it isn’t annoyed.
It hides a hint of laughter.
“Obviously. I do want to make a good impression, after all. Which means you also need to be on your best behavior. I mean it, Dad. Don’t be weird.”
I grin as Felix gets up.
“Sounds like this kid might be more than a friend if you’re giving me a warning.”
“Oh my God, Dad! Just... don’t. Please. Just... be chill. Please, I’m begging you.”
“Noted,” I say as Felix comes to stand beside me, sinking his hands into his pockets.
“We should head back,” he says calmly, nodding toward the door. “Break is almost over.”
“I gotta go, Bobby. I’ll see you in a couple hours, okay?”
After the line goes dead, I slide my phone back in my back pocket.
“Sorry about that,” I say, feeling strangely on the spot.
Felix gingerly slides his hands up underneath my Slayer shirt.
Which was also a gift along with the jeans.
His fingertips are light long my skin and he grins.
“Don’t apologize. I think it’s hot.” He flashes me a lusty grin.
“You think everything is hot,” I tease him.
“Just everything you do,” he says as he kisses me lightly, barely ghosting his lips against mine. His tongue flicks at my lip ring.
“Besides, you can make it up to me later, Daddy,” he teases, smacking me in the groin for added emphasis.
I curse as I force myself to think unsexy thoughts, following Felix back to the studio.
Bobby must really like this kid.
For starters, I don’t know what seventeen year old wouldn’t be impressed by chicken saltimbocca, but Bobby has been a basketcase about the state of the prosciutto for the last ten minutes.
“It’s fine, I promise,” I reassure him as I stir the bechemel sauce for him.
He wouldn’t trust me to do anything else, he said.
“It’s over-seasoned.” He snuffs, just as the doorbell rings.
Bobby’s eyes widen, and I can see the nerves spike.
“Hey,” I say as implore his gaze. “I’m sure everything will go great, okay? Don’t worry.”
I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince myself or my kid, or perhaps both of us, but this is clearly important to him.
“I have to answer the door, Dad,” he says, blinking rapidly.
I nod, giving him permission to do so.
“Hey,” his entire voice changes the moment he opens that door. It’s not sarcastic, or annoyed, but soft.
Warm, and inviting.
The kid that steps into my house smiles warmly back at Bobby, then meets my gaze.
He’s tall, like Felix. Bobby’s not short by any means, but I would wager this Brendan has a good couple inches on Bobby, and by his frame and obvious muscles, he’s probably some sort of athlete, I’d guess.
“You must be Brendan,” I say, forcing a smile, even though I think I’m more nervous than Bobby.
Bobby seems to remember I’m here, because his shoulders tense.
I turn the burner off, wiping my hands on a towel before heading over to meet the kid face to face.
He looks at me with big, round blue eyes, his surfer blondish-brown hair glistening in the chandelier light.
“Nice to meet you Mr. McKay,” he replies, his deep voice like thunderstorm.
His handshake is firm, quick.
“Good handshake,” I say with a grin at Bobby, who looks like he’s reconsidering this whole event.
Dinner isn’t as awkward, and I channel my best supportive parent costume.
I serve them both and ask Brendan genuine questions. What he likes, what his plans are after graduating this year.
How he and Bobby became “friends.”
Although he answers every question thoughtfully and politely, I notice how Bobby responds to every answer of his. How he watches the way Brendan smiles, tells his stories.
No one prepares you for moments like these. The ones where you realize your kids are really growing up.
Forging relationships.
Falling in love.
I can’t discern if the feelings are mutual, though. It’s clear my son is smitten with Brendan, but I can’t ascertain if this sweet boy is going to break his heart or not.
I also know I can’t protect him forever.
Not from things like this. All I can do is be here for him, for whatever he needs.
A part of me aches, knowing I might miss some of those firsts, being on tour for the next couple months.
But I also know that at the end of this tour, Bobby will be able to go wherever his heart desires because money won’t be an issue.
When dinner is over, I clean up while Bobby gives his friend a tour of the house, and I do my best to not hover, even though I desperately want to know how things are going.
They retire to the lounge to study, and I finish up with the dishes. I try to keep myself busy, but I’m antsy.
After an hour of complete silence, I give in. I head toward the lounge to see if they need anything to find they aren’t in the lounge. But Bobby’s door is shut.
I don’t think, I just act.
I push open his door, calling out his name, and immediately, regret it.
“Oh my God, Dad!” he yelps, jumping up from his bed, face flushed.
Brendan laughs a little, awkward laugh, his hands in his lap, shaking his head.
“Doors remain open in this house!” I bite out, averting my gaze.
“Yes, sir,” Brendan says as Bobby curses.
I’ll let the language go for now.
“I think I should probably head out anyway. Gotta get a good night’s rest so I can pass the test, right?” he says softly, trying to diffuse the tension.
I nod, my gaze catching Bobby’s. “Right, it is a school night and all.”
I am the worst Dad ever. Bobby is going to hate me for this.
“Walk me out?” Brendan asks, his eyebrows furrowing together, and I can see one hundred percent why Bobby has his knickers in a twist over this kid.
I know that look. The pleading, sweet gaze that would send a man to his knees.
Then I notice the prominent hickey on my son’s neck.
I clear my throat, as Bobby nods. “Yeah, of course,” he replies as he glares at me.
I step back from the doorway to let them leave.
“It was nice meeting you,” I say with a fake smile, feeling like I need a damn drink.
Brendan looks me dead in the eye and says, “Pleasure was mine, Mr. McKay.”
A myriad of emotions fill me from panic to pride, to fear to anxiety.
Bobby walks his ‘friend’ to the door, and they say their goodbyes. The moment the door shuts, Bobby groans.
“Dad, I?—”
“Listen, I’m not mad—” I interupt, slowly approaching him.
Bobby sighs, running his hands over his face. “I can not do this with you, I can’t. I just can’t.”
I stop in front of him, pulling his hands down. “You think I want to do this? This is awkward as hell for me, too, you know!”
Bobby averts my gaze. “Then let’s just not and say we did, okay?” He pouts.
I shake my head. “I’d be the same way if it was a girl in there, Bobby. I know... I know you’re going to do... stuff... and I’d rather you do it somewhere safe... like in this house. But?—”
“Please kill me, now.”
“I think we need to have a real discussion about safe sex. Like... you do know how to use a condom, right?”
I blush, realizing I probably should have had this discussion years ago, but I thought I had more time.
He never seemed interested in girls, and I hadn’t thought about the possibility he was into boys, so I just assumed he wasn’t interested in sex at all, and was going to be a late bloomer.
I fucked up, obviously.
I’m an awful parent.
The absolute worst.
“You should probably get tested, too, just to make sure?—”
“That goes for you, too!” Bobby says, crossing his arms.
“Excuse me?”
“If you’re going to start, uh... seeing people?—”
“What makes you think I’m seeing someone?” I ask, dumbfounded.
Bobby huffs in annoyance. “Please. Someone is buying you clothes, and I smelled cologne the other day when I came home.”
“I wear cologne!” I defend, though I know it’s flimsy.
“You don’t wear Sauvage. You wear Bath and Body Works.”
My mouth gapes open as he raises an eyebrow.
There is no getting out of this, and I suppose, if I expect him to live up to my expectations, I should be the one to set an example.
“Fine. We’ll go together.” I cross my arms.
“Fine.” Bobby raises his chin.
“And I’m buying you a pack of condoms. Don’t always assume the other guy is carrying them.”
Bobby rolls his eyes. “I have condoms, Dad. I’m not an idiot.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling a strange sense of pride.
“Now, I need to get ready for bed. It’s been a long day, and embarrassment takes a lot out of a person.”
“Noted. I’ll, uh... make us an appointment before I leave for the tour.”
He nods in response.
Twenty-four hours isn’t a long time. Not really. But it feels like eternity when you are waiting for test results.
Thank God for my drums, because it has been therapeutic as fuck to bang out my frustrations in rehearsal.
Felix accosts me the second break time hits, but I’m not in the mood.
Well, my cock is, but my brain is spiraling.
No news is good news, right?
Right?
I haven’t been tested since before Marci had Bobby. Though Marci and I were faithful to one another, and my bill of health was good then, it has been years.
I shouldn’t be so worried, so why am I worried?
“I can’t do this right now.” I move away from Felix to sit on the couch.
His accent slips. “Are you okay? Did I?—”
“No, it’s not you. It’s me... I...”
Felix plops down next to me, a look of concern coming over his fine features.
“Is this about... the kid?” he asks gingerly.
“Yes and no. It’s... we both went and got tested yesterday.”
Felix stares at me blankly. “For...”
“I caught him the other night making out with his friend-not boyfriend but probably will be his boyfriend at some point—and I told him he needed to be safe, and we should probably get him tested and?—”
“Oh, shit. Wow, that’s a lot. I’m sure he’s fine, though.”
“It’s not him I’m worried about,” I reply as I look into his eyes with worry.
Felix opens his mouth but no words come out. He blinks. “Are you? Worried you have something?”
The words crush me.
“No. But, you aren’t the first, uh... man, I’ve ever been with.”
The words are heavy in the air as Felix nods.
“Who else?” he asks cautiously.
“Issax. 1989.”
“How long did that, uh... last?” Felix’s voice is featherlight, careful.
“Not long. It was mostly just a thing we did once or twice, really, with my wife.”
“Oh.” Felix nods.
“I mean, it was the eighties, you know,” I say quietly. I can see the fear reflected in his pupils, and I want to disappear.
Felix leans closer, his knee sliding between my legs as his bright eyes light up and he offers me a light smile.
“I mean, that was like thirty years ago. I’m sure you’re fine,” he states.
A pregnant pause forms between us and then he speaks.
“I’ve been getting tested regularly for a few years. My last test was a couple months ago. Got the all clear, in case you, uh... wanted to know.”
I nod. “I mean, it’s good to know.”
Felix sets his hand on my thigh lightly. “I know this is probably going to sound shitty, but I don’t know how else to say it, uh... so bear with me...”
My eyebrows knit together and I worry this is it. He’s going to tell me he no longer wants us to continue with...
What, exactly?
What is it that we’re doing here?
I know we’re fucking around, sort of, but it doesn’t feel like fucking around.
It feels... different.
Felix licks his lips, jiggling his lip ring.
“I’ve never waited this long before. For someone.”
My heart sinks at his words.
“Felix, I?—”
“But I think... I really fucking like you... and I think you’re worth the wait.” He closes his eyes, pursing his lips.
I realize as the words leave his lips, they aren’t true.
He doesn’t like me.
And I don’t like him, either.
I’m falling in love with him.
I pull him close, kissing him with all the fear, the worry, and the pain swirling inside of me.
I pull him closer into my lap and he follows without question. I wrap my arms around his waist, fingers trailing up his back as I press my lips to his. I’m hard within seconds, and so is he, and I have to remember to breathe.
I want him.
I want him so fucking bad it terrifies me.
“I think we need to slow down,” I say. Because the emotion swirling in my chest, the words in my throat that long to be known are new and exciting, but also scary.
I look up into his pretty blue eyes, my gaze dipping to his swollen lips, his sliver of metal.
“Right, of course.” He nods, swallowing nervously.
“And we need to head back to finish up rehearsal here.”
Felix’s gaze shifts, and he nods again.
He removes himself from my lap, standing, and straightening his jeans.
“Wait a couple minutes so it’s not obvious,” he says coolly as he leaves me alone in the dressing room.