26. Always Yours
Leaving my mother behind, Logan and I wander through the house that used to be our home. I take his hand and lead him up to my old room. The furniture is still there, but not my things. No PC, no posters on the walls, no action figures on the shelf.
I used to have a picture of a vintage car on my wall—one of the only belongings Logan left behind.
Mom must’ve taken it down. I noticed she removed the family picture above the TV, too.
The picture of me, Mason, Mom, and Logan.
After Logan left us and she erased every trace of him from our home, I begged her to let it stay.
Now that I don’t live here anymore, I guess she thought I wouldn’t mind.
In the bed in the corner, Logan used to send me to sleep with a kiss to my forehead. At the desk by the window, he used to help me with homework. With those pencil marks on the wall, he used to track my height. The marks start at seven and stop at thirteen.
As we walk downstairs and open the door to the garage, the familiar smell of motor oil and concrete hits me. With Logan by my side, a myriad of memories flashes through my mind, and in their wake, a bittersweet nostalgia tightens my chest.
Here, he used to tinker endlessly with his car while I sat on a chair in the corner and played my Nintendo until late, even on school nights.
I refused to leave his side. Eventually, he lifted me into his arms and carried me, protesting, to my room.
It was only when he put me to bed and gave me a kiss on the forehead that I gave up and found rest.
This is the place where we spent so much time together, but it’s also the place where he left me behind. My memories of that day are blurrier now, and I don’t hear myself screaming quite as loudly.
We move beyond the garage and into the backyard, where the patio looks out over a sizable pool.
It’s all covered with tarp now, and the outdoor lights illuminate the foundation of what I suppose will become the pool house.
So Mom wasn’t lying when she said Fabio was building her one. Things are changing so fast.
“Lane and I used to swim here in the summer,” I mumble. “Mason, too.”
This place doesn’t feel like home anymore. It hasn’t for months. I have another home now. Two homes, in fact. With Nico and Luca, and with my daddy.
Logan gives my hand a little squeeze. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” My voice lowers, and I tap my foot against the wooden patio, trying to feel okay and not just say that I am.
Logan sees through my attempt, though. He always knows what’s really on my mind. “Oliver… you have to understand. Your mom was trying to do what she thought was best for her family. For you.”
“By cheating on you and forcing you to go no contact with me?” I mutter.
“It’s not so simple. Sometimes, we make the choices we think will hurt the least based on the options we have, but we don’t always succeed.”
I suppose he’s right. From where I stand, her choices seem mostly selfish, though. When Logan left our family, I was thirteen, and I guess she thought I didn’t need a parent by that point.
She still cared, or at least she cared about practical stuff. She cared that I was going to college. She helped me apply and look for a place to stay. But she never hugged me. Never asked me how my day had been or how I was feeling. That was always Logan.
I look up at him, absorbing the calming effect he has on me. God, I love him. I’ve always loved him, even when he was gone. I never stopped, even though I tried. And all this time, it was never his choice to abandon me. It was hers.
He came into my life because of her, and he left it because of her. But when we reconnected, it wasn’t her doing. She has no say over our relationship anymore; it’s all up to us.
“Hey.” Logan strokes my shoulder, noticing the tears welling up in my eyes.
I inhale a shaky breath. “If… if she’d allowed you to, would you have wanted to stay in my life?”
His eyes widen at the question, and when he speaks, his voice is heavy, full of regret. “Of course I would have.”
I smile at the bittersweet ache in my chest. If we’d stayed in touch, I doubt we would’ve met the way we did.
If I’d always stayed his stepson, he probably wouldn’t have allowed himself to transition our relationship into what it is today.
So, I suppose in some ways, what happened was for the best, though my thirteen-year-old self would disagree.
I decide to drop the subject and ask him something else I’ve been wondering instead. “Before Mom yelled at you… What were you about to say?”
“I was going to tell her I love you,” he says earnestly.
I stare up at him, my heart skipping a beat. “Really?”
He smiles. “Is that a surprise to you?”
“No, just, um…” I trip over my words, my chest swirling with emotions. Logan squeezes my shoulder, patiently waiting for me to gather my thoughts. Eventually, I manage to ask, “In what way?”
“In what way, what?”
“In what way do you… love me?” My voice is filled with hope. I just want him to confirm it. I already know, I think, and I…
“This way.” He leans down and tilts my face to his, kissing my lips. The kiss lingers for a while, but not long enough, and I immediately want more. “Does that make it clear to you?”
I make a soft little sound, my hand grasping his shirt. “Yes.” Then I remember I should say it back, but I’m still tripping over my words. “I love you too—in that way. But um, you already knew that, I think.” My cheeks are burning.
He cups my face in his hands, and his eyes glimmer as he gazes down at me.
I want him so badly—want so many things that aren’t fit for the backyard of our past lives.
They’re only fit for our future, for the people we’ve become.
Who love each other, and who won’t be ashamed of loving each other, despite what the world might think.
He pulls me into a hug. “Now, let Daddy take you home.”
That evening, we end up ordering in and cuddling on the couch in front of a movie.
Daddy gives me all the kisses I want and lets me snuggle as close to him as possible.
Before our touches can turn any more heated, though, I end up falling asleep against his shoulder.
When the movie’s over, I wake up momentarily while he carries me to the bedroom.
I’m too sleepy to have sex, which kind of sucks, but sleeping in his arms is the next best thing. My last memory before I drift off is his lips pressing to my forehead and his soft whisper in my ear. “Sleep tight, sweetheart.”
And I do. I sleep like a baby, better than I’ve slept in weeks.
We went to bed early, so I wake up before his alarm.
Logan’s still sleeping, but I feel needy, so I climb over his body and straddle his hips.
While waiting for him to wake up, I nuzzle his neck, inhaling his scent and enjoying the heat of his body.
He’s always so warm, so soft, and so safe.
As he stirs awake, his hand comes up to run over my back. “How did you sleep?”
I give a happy sigh into his neck. “So good. Love sleeping with Daddy.”
His chest rumbles with a pleased grunt. I move my hips a little, pushing up against his growing cock. We frot sleepily for a while, our cocks grinding together until our underwear grows wet with precum.
Struck by the urge to taste him, I shift down his body and settle between his hairy thighs. Pulling his underwear down and freeing his cock, I put the head between my lips. His gasp of pleasure never fails to make me moan.
I still find it difficult to get more than half of him into my mouth, but he gives me all the encouragement I need, groaning, “Yes,” and, “Just like that,” and, “Good boy.” His praise paired with his throbbing cock in my mouth drives me insane with want.
Unthinking, I grind against his thigh, and with unashamed rolls of my hips, I make him all sloppy with saliva as I work my mouth tirelessly up and down his shaft.
I feel his thighs tensing up. That’s the first clue.
His hand clenching in my hair is the other.
Then his cock pulses in my mouth, and spurt after spurt of cum hits the back of my throat.
His pleasure pushes me over the edge, and I hump his thigh one more time before I come in my boxer briefs, moaning around his cock.
I pull his underwear back up and lie beside him, smiling breathlessly, and he pulls me into a kiss.
“What a good boy,” he murmurs against my lips. “Using Daddy’s thigh to make yourself feel good.” Sliding a hand between my legs, he rubs at the wet spot on my boxer briefs. I push myself into his touch with a whimper, and he kneads my cock through my messy underwear.
“Did you feel good too, Daddy?” I gasp, feeling myself grow hard again under his touch.
“You made Daddy feel amazing. Daddy loves your sweet mouth.”
I arch my back, pressing myself shamelessly into his hand. “I love Daddy’s taste. Love… Daddy… mmh…” My voice dissolves into moans and gasps as he reaches into my underwear. He ends up jerking me off while we kiss and writhe, bodies sliding together and bliss flowing through my chest.
He’s the best. The best daddy. I still have my mom, but the one who truly cares about me has always been Logan. He used to be my dad, but now he’s my daddy—the best daddy I could have ever asked for.
I still have to pinch myself to make sure this isn’t a dream.
Even after everything we’ve been through, this is where we’ve ended up.
Taking care of each other. Loving each other.
It still feels too good to be true, but when he pulls me into his arms, I know he’s here.
I know he’s not leaving. I know he wants to be with me, despite everything.
By the time his alarm rings, we’re in the shower, washing off the evidence of our morning sex. The alarm keeps ringing, but Logan ignores it, continuing to lather me with shower gel. To no surprise, my cock stirs against his thigh, and I grab his wrist to lead his hand to my ass.
“Want Daddy here.”