Calvin Whitehurst dragged himself through the front door and into his modest home, the screen door slamming shut behind him. The familiar scent of wood, leather, cigar smoke, and whiskey, all hallmarks of his job as a bartender at The Rusty Nail, clung to him like a second skin, leaving little doubt as to what he'd been doing for the past eight, no, nine hours. The day had been long and draining, and he couldn't wait to get out of his stained clothes and into something more comfortable. At 54, he was getting too old for all the drunks and bar fights.
As he tossed his hat on the hook by the door, he heard the hum of the old, beat-up television coming from the living room. His youngest son, Billy, sat on the couch. The basketball game that occupied his son’s attention flickered on the screen, the sound low. Cal stopped at the entryway, taking a moment to observe his boy.
Billy had grown into a tall, lean young man. His dark hair lay messy against his forehead, and the light from the TV lit up his face in an almost ethereal glow. He was still in his baseball uniform, most of it anyways, and the sight of the blue and white fabric tugged at Cal's heart. It was hard to believe that his little boy was now a teenager, almost a man. Billy had always looked the most like his mother, a real cute kid, but now his looks were beginning to settle into a kind of boyish masculinity that Cal knew must be turning some heads at school. Pretty soon Billy would be leaving the roost like his brothers had, but Cal shook his head, dispelling the thought from his mind.
Cal cleared his throat, drawing Billy’s attention away from the game. The young man offered a small smile, and Cal couldn't help but feel his heart swell just a little at the sight. "Hey, Dad," Billy said, turning the volume up a bit.
Cal smiled back. "Hey, kiddo. How was school?" He asked as he moved into the room, the heavy steps of his boots making a soft thud against the wooden floor. Sitting down on his favorite chair, he began to untie his boots, letting his aching feet breathe after hours of confinement.
"Good. Baseball practice after," Billy responded, his eyes never leaving the screen. Cal resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Typical teenager behavior, always glued to a screen.
Cal took a moment to relax into his recliner, leaning back and closing his eyes. He knew he needed a shower, but now that he was home and settling in, and actually having a conversation with his son, he just couldn’t muster the energy to move from his spot. "Glad to hear it. How's the team doing?"
Billy gave a slight shrug. “Okay, I guess. Just trying to stay focused." His voice was muffled by the action on the screen.
Cal nodded. "That's all you can do, kid. That, and have some fun. Baseball's supposed to be fun, right?"
Billy glanced over at his father, a small grin on his face. "Yeah. I guess so."
Fully settled now, Cal began to feel the tension of the day ease from his body. For a moment, it was just him and his boy, watching the game, and he knew he wouldn't trade that for anything, especially after all the missed years. He snuck a glance at his boy while the younger man was occupied with game, admiring the way he growing into his skin after so long. They hadn’t chatted much about it, but the last few times he had stayed over with Cal, Billy had a shown a newfound ease and confidence in his skin that made Cal proud of the boy.
Cal had always struggled to understand his youngest son. The two of them had never had an easy rapport, and it seemed as though Billy had grown up with a guardedness that made it difficult for Cal to truly know him better. He and Billy’s mother had divorced when he was young, and Cal, who was no stranger to hard work, had thrown himself into providing for his family. In his mind, that was what a good father was supposed to do.
Technically, he had been a present part of his three sons’ lives. He stayed with them every night he had custody of them, which admittedly wasn’t often, and tried his damnedest to give them a place they could call home. He checked all the boxes that he was legally and socially expected of him. He'd been absent in other ways, though, maybe the ways that mattered most, and he wondered if that had affected his relationship with Billy more than he gave it credit for.
Billy, for his part, had always seemed to prefer the company of his older brother, Steve. The two of them seemed to share an easy camaraderie, and Cal often found himself left on the outside looking in. Matt, the middle child, was like a ghost in the family. He'd gone off to college and rarely spoke to either of his parents. Thinking about it stung, and made Cal worry about his relationship with Billy even more.
Cal had tried to make amends with Billy, taking him out for father-son activities, attempting to bond over sports, and even trying to engage him in conversation. But Billy had always seemed distant, uninterested in whatever Cal had to offer. Not hostile exactly, but notably detached. Steve always told Cal not to stress about it. That Billy was a teenager and needed to figure things out himself. He’d come around, perhaps, but the waiting was dreadful, like he was sinking in quicksand with nothing to grab a hold of.
Still, despite the difficulty, Cal refused to give up. He loved Billy, and he wanted to be a positive influence in his life. One weekend a month and the occasional vacation week or holiday wasn’t much time, and now that Billy was legally considered an adult, and getting ready to graduate high school, those moments could dry up completely. He hoped that one day, they would find a way to connect, to truly understand each other. For now, though, they settled into the comfortable silence of watching the game, Cal hoping that it would be enough to build a bridge between them.
During a lull in the game, Cal rose from his armchair and headed into the kitchen. He opened the fridge door, illuminating himself and the darkened room in the fridge’s fluorescent glow as he pulled a beer out. He paused, then called out to Billy in the living room, “Hey, Billy? You want a drink?”
Billy looked up from the TV, surprised by Cal's offer. His dad never really asked him if he wanted anything. It was always whatever was easiest, whatever didn't involve much effort on Cal's part. But maybe things were changing.
"Um, sure," Billy replied, his voice slightly hesitant. "A Sprite would be good, if you've got any left"
Cal nodded, popping open a cold one for himself and then rummaging through the fridge for a can of Sprite. He grabbed a glass and some ice, going the extra mile, before heading back to the living room.
"Here ya go," Cal said, handing Billy the drink. "Thought you might want it a bit fancier than straight from the can."
Billy looked up at his dad, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thanks," he said softly. It was a small gesture, but it meant a lot.
Cal settled back into his recliner, taking a swig of his beer. "So, how's everything else going? School? Friends? You seeing anyone special?"
Billy nearly choked on his Sprite. "Seeing someone? What? No, no, I'm not... I mean..." He trailed off, his cheeks flushing.
Cal held up a hand, chuckling. "Relax, kid. I'm just asking. Don't have to bite my head off. And if you are, you can talk to me about it. I may be old, but I'm not dead."
Billy shook his head, still red-faced. "No, no, nothing like that. Just... just focusing on baseball, you know?"
Cal nodded, taking another sip of his beer. "Fair enough. Just don't let it distract you too much from your studies. Gotta have a backup plan, you know?" Cal said, and grimaced at his own tone.
Billy nodded, his eyes back on the TV. But Cal could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he seemed to curl in on himself. There was something Billy wasn't telling him, Cal was sure of it. But he also knew from past experience that pushing too hard would only drive Billy further away. He found that one out the hard way with Matt. “Slow your roll, Pops.” he could imagine Steve telling him. Maybe his oldest was right. Better to leave things for now and let Billy set the pace.
So, he settled for the silence, the soft hum of the TV, and the knowledge that, for now, they were trying. And that was a start.
As the game went on, and Cal downed more beers, nature inevitably came calling, and Cal reluctantly rose from his spot to go empty his bladder. As he flushed the toilet and began to wash his hands, he thought about how he could approach Billy next. There was still plenty of time to take him to a game before he ran off to college in the fall. Yes, that could work, especially if he invited Steve along.
Feeling a little more hopeful, Cal returned to the living room and blinked in surprise when he found a fresh beer, this time in an opened bottle, sitting on the side table next to his chair. He looked at Billy with a mix of confusion and appreciation. "Thanks, kid. Didn't think you'd be paying attention to how much I was drinking."
Billy shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "I just noticed you were getting low. Figured you'd want a fresh one. Plus, it gave me a chance to get something for myself too." He held up a can of Sprite that he had snatched from the fridge.
Cal nodded, reaching for the beer. He brought the bottle up to his lips and took a long, cool swig. The cold liquid slid down his throat, and he let out a contented sigh. "Ahh, that hits the spot. Thanks again, Billy.." As he sipped some more, he barely noticed a slight aftertaste, nearly imperceptible.
Billy smiled, his heart pounding in his chest. He watched with rapt attention as Cal continued to drink from the offered beer bottle. Cal noticed his son fidget slightly, but didn’t think too much about it. A subtle tingle of warmth begin to rise from the pit of Cal’s stomach, and Cal scratched it absentmindedly.
"So, um, Dad?" Billy said, his voice wavering slightly. "I've been thinking about my future, and I was wondering if we could talk about it."
Cal raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden change in topic. He took another swig of beer, his mind feeling fuzzy because of the effects of the beer. "Sure thing, kid. What did you have in mind?" he asked, feeling the heat spreading.
Billy leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Well, I was thinking about applying to a few schools nearby. Maybe stay close to home for a while. Because ..." He trailed off, his eyes darting down to Cal's crotch before quickly snapping back up to his face. "Because there is something else I want.”
Cal blinked, his brain struggling to keep up. The beer was making him feel weird, like his thoughts were moving through a thick haze. His pants suddenly felt tight and restrictive. "Something else? What do you mean, Billy?"
Billy licked his lips, his heart racing. This was it. The moment of truth. "I mean, maybe we could forget about college for a while. Maybe find a... different way to spend our time together."
Cal frowned, trying to focus on Billy’s words. "Different way? I don't understand." This entire conversation was strange, but for some reason he couldn’t maintain his attention on the words coming out of his son’s mouth. It was like they were going into his head and then slipping right back out. He face felt hot and tiny beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. It was like the beginnings of a fever, but one that felt good.
Billy’s hands were shaking as he reached out, placing them on Cal's thighs. "I mean, like this, Dad. Just you and me. No more talking about school or baseball or anything else. Just us."
Cal's breath caught in his throat as Billy’s hands moved higher up his thighs. "Billy, what are you talking about?" His voice was hoarse, his mind spinning with a mix of confusion and something else, something he couldn't quite name. The sudden urge to run was overwhelming, but that was silly, this was his son. Good dads didn’t run from their boys. Even if that boy was looking at him like a wolf that had just found its next meal.
Billy leaned in closer, his breath hot against Cal's ear. "I'm talking about this, Dad. About us. About how I've been wanting you for so long, and how now I finally have a chance to show you how much I love you."
Cal's mouth fell open in shock, his brain struggling to process Billy’s words. This couldn't be happening. It had to be some kind of dream, some twisted fantasy playing out in his mind. But the heat of Billy’s hands on his thighs, the feel of his breath against his skin, the rising bulge in his own pants - all of it was too real to be a dream.
Billy pressed closer, his lips brushing against Cal's neck. "Don't fight it, Dad," he whispered. "Just let it happen. Let me show you how good it can be."
Cal's head was spinning, his body responding to Billy’s touch despite the protests of his mind. He knew he should push Billy away, should tell him to stop this madness. But the beer, something else, and the years of pent-up longing - it all overwhelmed him, and before he could stop himself, he was pulling Billy into a deep, desperate kiss.
Cal's mind was a whirlwind of confusion and desire as he allowed his body to take control. The feeling of Billy’s lips against his own was electric, sending shivers down his spine and igniting a fire in his loins. He had never kissed a man before, never even considered the possibility. But here, now, with his son in his arms, all of those inhibitions seemed to melt away.
Billy’s hands roamed over Cal's body, exploring every inch of exposed skin. Cal groaned against his son's lips, his own hands tangling in Billy’s hair. He could feel himself growing harder, his cock straining against the confines of his jeans. His hands moved on their own running through his son’s messy hair as if he was a man possessed.
"Fuck, Billy," he gasped as Billy’s hand slid down to palm him through his pants. "What are you doing to me?"
Billy grinned wickedly, his eyes dark with lust. "Showing you how much I love you, Dad. Just like I promised."
With a swift movement, Billy pushed Cal back onto the couch and straddled him, grinding his hips against his father's. Cal's head fell back against the cushions, his breath coming in short gasps. He had never felt so turned on in his life, so desperate for release.
"Please, Billy," he begged, his voice rough with need. "Please, I need…I need…!”
Billy leaned down, his lips brushing against Cal's ear. "I know, Dad. I know exactly what you need."
Saying that, Billy reached down and undid Cal's belt, pulling his jeans down just enough to free his throbbing cock. Cal's eyes widened at the sight of his own erection, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.
"Holy shit, Dad," Mike breathed, wrapping his hand around Cal's shaft. "You're so big. I can't wait to taste you."
Before Cal could respond, Billy had taken him into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the head of his cock. Cal cried out, his hands gripping the couch cushions as waves of pleasure washed over him.
"Fuck, Billy, that feels so good," he panted, his hips bucking up into Billy’s mouth. "Don't stop, please don't stop."
Billy remained silent, his mouth and throat working Cal's cock with expert precision. He could feel his own arousal growing, his own cock straining against his pants. But he ignored it, focusing solely on bringing his father pleasure.
Billy continued to suck Cal’s cock with a passion that left Cal speechless. It was more than good, it was masterful. A small part of Cal’s mind wondered where Billy had learned to suck so well, but it was easily overwhelmed by the myriad sensations of pleasure wracking Cal’s body.
Cal's orgasm approached quickly, the combination of his inebriated stage and Billy’s skilled mouth sending him hurtling towards the edge. He could feel the tension building in his balls, his cock twitching and throbbing in Billy’s hot, wet mouth.
"I'm gonna come, Billy," he warned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "I'm gonna fucking come!"
Billy pulled back just enough to wrap his lips around the tip of Cal's cock, his tongue flicking against the sensitive underside. That was all it took. With a strangled cry, Cal came, his seed spurting into Billy waiting mouth.
Billy swallowed every drop, his own cock pulsing with need. As Cal's orgasm subsided, he pulled back and grinned up at his father, his chin glistening with pearls of cum.
"That was amazing, Dad," he purred, licking his lips. "But we're not done yet. Not even close."
