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Don't Wake Daddy

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When Jack slept, he was shirtless. He always fell asleep with his arms crossed behind his head if he wasn't holding onto Rhys. His muscles were on full display, and so were his scars, all ragged and torn, some fresh and others old. There were burn wounds, shiny and pink. There were knife scars, and one could tell if they were from bandit blades or clean Dahl steel. He never had a lot of hair on his chest, but his arms and the light fuzz below his navel made up for it.

When Jack slept, he was pantless. He never liked to wear pants at home, always tearing them off first thing when he stepped through the door to his penthouse. Jeans, slacks, or sweats, it really didn't matter to the man, he just wanted to be out of that restricting material. He perused around the house in his boxers (or briefs, whatever he felt like that day), showing off his gorgeously tanned, muscular thighs whenever he walked or sat or fucked.

When Jack slept, he was close to naked, and sometimes he was completely naked. No shirt, no pants, no boxers or briefs, and all exposed. Just like he was on the mornings when Rhys decided to disturb him.

Ever the early bird, Rhys always woke before Jack. Maybe it was because his lover had such an unforgiving workload and slept in due to sleep deprivation, or maybe it was because of the kid’s internal alarm clock, but Rhys always found himself yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes while Jack still slept like a log beside him. The younger of the two had cracked open a weary eye to Helios’ artificial sunlight, squinting at the light rays peeking through the smeared, dirty windows of Jack’s large bedroom. They really had to take some cleaner to that glass - it got smudged when Jack decided to fuck him against it one day. Rhys stayed in place for a long while, holding the duvet up to his chin and getting comfortable with the brightness of the room, sometimes wiggling his toes or stretching out his arms and legs to wake himself up more. Finally, he turned to his side and laid his gaze on the sleeping bear next to him.

Handsome Jack looked like a man of twenty in all of the Hyperion posters - flawless for all eyes to see. Plain old Jack looked like a man well into his forties, with wrinkles at his eyes, stubble on his chin, and too much spunk to contain. Rhys’ caretaker, Rhys’ lover, Rhys’ dominant figure  That was plain old Jack.

After studying the man’s face for a while, Rhys shifted about in his spot on the bed. It was a big bed, definitely able to hold more than two people, they had thoroughly made sure of that, but Rhys only shuffled in closer to the warmth of his Dom’s body.  He gently pulled off the sheets and the blankets and the top cover, getting sick of every layer added to Jack’s bed - much like the man’s everyday work clothes - and finally found himself presented with the body he’d learned to love so much. Shirtless, pantless, and all in nude.

Rhys had become more brave over time, first easing his way into the power dynamic they shared, then playing little games, like a change in clothing, such as skirts and binkies and diapers, then fully submitting to Jack and accepting him as the respected and much adored title of Daddy.  It had taken a while, but now Rhys couldn't dream of a world without bottles and pets from Jack. Everything had grown to him and clung to him like a new way of living, satiated and happy.

Sparkling brown and blue eyes looked Jack up and down, studying how he laid on his side with a pillow firmly between his arms and under his head, seeming strong even as he slept.  Rhys looked over a great many of things, like Jack’s face, hands, stomach, and legs, but his eyes always came dragging back to one of the places he loved most.

Timorously, Rhys stretched his fingers out, unsteady from sleep, and ran the soft tips of his fingers against Jack’s flesh. His daddy’s cock.  While biting his lip between his teeth, Rhys gently pet at the smooth skin, lighter than feathers, but hotter than the sun. Sometimes he played with the thick hair above his lover’s cock, stroking through the dark curls before returning his hand back to it’s original task of playing with the tip of the slow growing erection.

Retreating his hand, Rhys brought his fingers up to his face, the ones that had been feeling his Dom all over, and pressed them up against his nose to smell the heavy, musky scent that was Jack. He slid his fingers into his mouth not a moment later, licking them wet. Quietly, Rhys decided to scootch his way down the bed, still lying on his side, and kiss at the man’s thighs. He always tried to play and tease before the main course, but this time, kissing his legs and trying to draw it out, didn't work for sleep-swayed Rhys, so he opened his mouth. Wide.

A long swipe against Jack’s fully grown erection was just what he wanted and just what he did. It tasted salty on his tongue and oh, how he savored the flavor. It wasn't a regular taste, but the unique taste that Rhys hungered for.

Jack finally stirred, which had Rhys hesitating between pulling back or following his prized possession with his tongue, but after a short shift in position, Jack only moved onto his back and let sleep take him once more. The boy smiled. He moved to his knees and sat lightly against Jack’s legs, hovering right above his toy. Closing his eyes, Rhys licked again. Small licks, long licks, and a fat, wet kiss finally had Rhys too hot to be inconspicuous any longer. Grasping at his Dom with one hand, Rhys popped his mouth over the head of his daddy’s cock and sucked at the slit. It oozed out discharge that Rhys rubbed over his tongue and mewled for. Jack moved again. And this time it wasn't a sleepy one.

Jack made the noises he always did when he woke up; grunts, huffs, and annoyed, incoherent grumbles, and Rhys knew for certain that he was waking up. With his heart thudding, Rhys gave another gentle suck at Jack’s length.

Jack lifted his head sharply and peered down at his boy, all diaper-clad and puppy dog eyes, then came to the realization that the heat at his groin wasn't just another case of the morning wood. Rhys looked so small curled up against his legs, looking as innocent and sublimely arrogant as he did when Jack told him stories of Pandora and kissed at his cheeks.

“Oh, God, Rhysie…” His voice was scratchy, deep. For a moment Rhys thought he was mad, but saw how Jack rested his head against the pillows again. He wasn't. Rhys slid his lips farther down the length, until he reached the bottom, sucked, then repeated. He bobbed his head slowly. Jack slid his fingers down his body to grasp at his sub’s hair and tighten them into a fist. A weak fist, but a fist nonetheless, and Rhys knew what that meant. Keep sucking - harder, or I'll tug out your hairs. Rhys pulled up for just a second, just enough to get his lips somewhat free, and spoke with a slippery cock on his tongue. “Daddy, it was supposed to be secret,” His voice was high and sweet, sounding out his words oddly because of the incessant obstruction in his mouth, “Go back to sleep.”

Jack slid his other hand down, stroking faintly against his boy’s cheek, held onto his jaw, and slid his mouth back down his dick. “I wake up to my beautiful baby giving me such a nice present and you want me to sleep?” He let out a manly, warming chuckle. “Daddy’s staying awake, Sweetpea,” He said, with that voice that was so sure of everything. His Dom commanded him, and Rhys followed, tonguing fervently at Jack’s slit.

Suddenly more awake, Rhys held the tip against his tongue and pumped down the shaft of Jack’s cock, feeling the thick veins bulging from the underside and the heat and sticky mess that stuck to his hand. Jack shoved his head down, sliding the hard, slick cock down his throat. The boy relaxed his jaw and held his breath. His pretty eyes drooped whenever he peered up to his lover, still with his eyes closed. Rhys might have thought that Jack had fallen back asleep if he didn't feel his daddy’s callused hands stroking against his stretched throat.

With his little nose pressed right up against Jack’s pubes, he stayed there, inhaling the scent as best he could, while his throat involuntarily clenched. Jack patted his cheek - a sign that his baby could come up and get a breath. Rhys shot up and took deep, quick gasps as he held onto his Dom’s base and kissed the tip, over and over. Long and wet, they made the most obscene noises.

Rhys made a quick suck and said, “Daddy, does it feel good?”

Jack didn't answer, but only made a low growl deep in his chest and held onto Rhys’ face, fucking his cock back against the boy’s tongue. Rhys knew what to do when the older man started rocking his hips up; he just had to stay in one place, with his arms against the bed to steady himself and let Jack do what he wanted, slow and lazy or fast and hard. Sometimes when Jack gave him a mouth fucking, it made tears come to his eyes and snot spurt out of his nose, which granted him sweet kisses and apologies later, but this time it was drawn out and hot. Rhys moaned quietly around the slobbery length in his mouth, crowding his cheeks, loving the taste and feel of it all. Sometimes Jack pulled out from the heat and rubbed his cock head against Rhys’ face, over his lips or against one of his eyes, so he had to keep it shut.

“You're always so good, Kitten…” He felt Jack shift underneath him, putting one if his knees up in the air to get a better leverage to thrust a bit harder into his kid’s willing throat. “Makin’ me come faster every time we do this.”

And it was true. The first time Rhys had ever given Jack a blow job, it'd been terrible. His jaw ached and Jack ended up finishing himself with his own hand. Now Rhys liked to lick his lover’s cock for fun, almost every day, waiting happily on his knees for Jack to spill his seed onto his tongue.

Faster than Rhys would have thought, Jack started to grunt and buck his hips with more force than before. Rhys was sweating by now, feeling his cheeks turn pink with the impatient idea of wanting to know whether Jack would come on his face or in his mouth. Whining out, Rhys began to bob his head in time with Jack’s thrusts, not minding if he got rammed in the nose by Jack’s hips when they met together. His eyes were shut tight now, feeling Jack starting to wake up more and become more aggressive like his normal self. Jack pulled on Rhys’ thick auburn hair and moaned.

“Baby, stop- Get off, let Daddy see your pretty face,” He commanded.

Rhys pulled away from the body he adored so much and opened up his mouth wide, presenting his face to Jack. He pumped his hand across Jack’s cock and cried out for his treat. “Please, gimme all of it. I wanna taste,” He whined and whimpered like he always did, and Jack gave him what he wanted. Cursing, Jack came across Rhys’ wet, bright pink lips, across the bridge of his nose and into his hair. Rhys hungrily licked up all of the semen that he could reach with his tongue. He made a move to wipe the rest off with his fingers and suck them up, but Jack swatted his hand away from his face.

“No. Leave it. Come up here, I want to say thank you.” Jack reached behind him to fluff up some pillows to elevate himself a bit more. There was a thin sheen of glistening sweat on his chest that made Rhys’ eyes go big with the want to suck on his nipples, but he didn't, only kissed Jack on the lips lightly. He smiled. “You're so precious, Rhysie. Take off your nappy and come up here to sit on Daddy’s face, let me give you a treat.”

Rhys grinned. “Thank you, Papa, I love you.” He kissed Jack once more and rolled onto his back, tugging off his diaper with impatience. Jack never let Rhys go without wearing it - he loved to see his younger lover so helpless and soiled, desperate for the guiding hands of his dominant.

After the boy was naked, he straddled Jack’s chest and slowly inched his way up to his face. There was a lick, hot and slow against his balls. Rhys giggled and shifted his hips, so Jack could play with his desperate hole instead. “Can you lick inside me?” He asked in his little voice, always a talker when his mouth wasn’t full or busy kissing Jack. He felt the smallest of kisses around the sensitive skin of his perineum, then the wet feeling he was waiting for.

Jack’s tongue ran against Rhys’ cunt, over and over, laving at the warm ring of flesh that tightened up in surprise and just as easily relaxed and gaped open the next. “Papa, that feels good…” Rhys bit his lip and slumped forward, leaning against the headboard. He rolled his hips just like he did on a cock or a dildo or some fingers, or whatever his daddy had him playing with. He knew how to move his body to get him the best pleasure, even though Jack was already excellent at doing that without extra help.

The tongue underneath him prodded up inside of him, licking around in swirls and stripes that made the young eyes cross in Rhys’ head. He cried out, beginning to bounce himself lightly. He’d gotten a spanking before for fucking down on Jack’s face, getting told that he was too spoiled and impatient, and that it could hurt his Dom’s face, but he could never stop doing it. It felt too good.

Before he knew it, Rhys’ cock was hard and dribbling down thick rivulets of milky precome that rolled down his shaft and dripped down into Jack’s pretty, brown hair. The brown hair that Rhys was holding onto for dear life as he grinded down on the sucking heat underneath him.  Jack started toying at Rhys with his fingers, massaging his straining thighs while he held himself up, or maybe shoved just the tip of his finger inside his boy’s little fuckhole. Rhys heard the older man moan beneath him, but it sounded more like a hoarse growl, one that was completely and utterly possessive. Rhys had a hard time keeping his eyes open.

“Daddy- I think I might…” He trailed off, crying out at the feeling of Jack spitting against his already dripping pussy, dirty and obscene. “I'm gonna come, Daddy! Please , let me. I'm- Ah! I'm gonna make a mess,” He cried, already overstimulated at the burn in his legs and the slippery fun happening beneath him. Jack squeezed at his ass once, then reached around blindly to grope for Rhys’ pink-tipped erection. Once he got a hold of it, he rubbed at the slit eagerly, causing Rhys to collapse completely against Jack and shiver out his well-earned orgasm.

Tears dabbed at his eyelashes as he squirted out pearly ribbons of come, all over the headboard and some in Jack’s hair. Rhys felt his Dom sitting up underneath him and pulling him into his lap to kiss at his temples and stroke down his back and over his cheeks.

“You did so good today… You're Daddy’s good boy, isn’t that right?”  Jack asked and Rhys nodded dumbly, wrapping his thin arms around Jack and kissing at anything he could. His neck, chin, ears, and sometimes cutting Jack off from speaking by planting needy boy kisses against his lips.

“I'm Daddy’s good boy,” He nuzzled his forehead against Jack’s and closed his eyes, already tuckered out from his play.

“That's right, Baby,” Jack said as he pulled the covers back over them and laid down, holding Rhys in his arms. He wouldn't lose any sleep because of this, especially by the hands of an insatiable submissive. The boy blinked sleepily at him as they got comfortable and smiled. Maybe they’d play again later, but first - sleep.