All in the Blood
Apparently that shits real.
Some part of Flint knew it’d be a bad idea to take on the Seelie Queen on his own.
The creature was two parts witch and one part wrong.
It had been an uphill battle since the moment he entered her domain, clawing at the ghostly trees and stumbling over roots that seemed to magically find ways to get him on his knees. Although he probably should have guessed that the Seelie would’ve been a vicious bitch to take out. It was obvious by the way she had bloody kitten-skulls hanging off the branches like lanterns at a macabre festival. Kittens. That was five kinds of messed up.
The fact was he didn’t think – a rare oversight for a Hunter Watchman – so in the end he paid for his arrogance.
But honestly, he could live with that.
What he couldn’t live with was Kane – his father – being to one to bail him out.
It got even worse because Kane got hit by a pollen dart in the process because of him. Not that it made a difference, Flint eventually got hit too.
So now estranged father and son were huddling in a cabin that resembled a serial killer’s vacation house and trying to stave off the spores in their lungs and the poison in their veins.
To think after surviving two wars, three motor accidents and a stabbing in his back, Flint was going to die like this. Stuck in a room with a man he barely knew and with fucking sex pollen urging him to rub up against the couch like a cat in heat.
Flint didn’t even have time to feel despair.
He was just too bloody embarrassed that he was going to die from literal blue balls.
Father and son hid together in silence for nearly thirty-two hours.
They decided to play the game of ignorance for as long as they could. Don’t look. Don’t touch yourself. Don’t touch anything, especially each other and everything will be right as rain. Just ignore that they were both feeling randy as hell and ready to grind up against the hard wood floor and everything will be alright.
Not bloody likely.
They lasted one day and one night till both Flint and his father Kane, were going out of their minds.
“This is your fault.” Flint bit out, breaking the silence they had maintained for so long.
Kane made a gruff sound at the back of his throat that probably meant, fuck off.
“Why’d you have to follow me? I told you and the rest of the team that I’d be fine huntin’ that Queen on my own.” Flint snapped. “I had her.”
“Is that what you call being pinned to a tree by knives?” The older man huffed from his corner of the room.
Flint shot the man a dirty look.
“You know you shouldn’t have been there Kane. Your team doesn’t have jurisdiction to hunt on that land. Mine does. And as far as I could tell, I’m literally the only person on the team that has legal permission to go burn the bitch.” Flint ran tired shaky fingers through his hair. “You just shouldn’t have been there.”
The older man leaned against the wall and propped his feet on a log of firewood. The ease in which he moved made Flint’s teeth grind in annoyance.
Even now, Kane was cold as ever, like hard steel under ice. It rubbed Flint in all the wrong ways.
“Last I checked, you don’t follow rules boy.” Kane turned to look at the evening sky outside the cabin window. “And that’s exactly the reason why you can’t be left alone on solo runs. You’re reckless and a danger to the rest of us who are trying to do our jobs properly so we can get back home to our families in one piece.”
And there was the cool, condescending tone Flint had been waiting for.
God he hated that man.
“Don’t talk to me about family Kane. I could hardly take that word seriously when it’s coming out of your mouth.” Flint hissed. “Deserter.”
“Blood traitor.” Kane threw back easily while still looking up at the sky through the window.
“Like you ain’t one?” Kane snapped. “And stop pacing. You’re giving me a headache.”
Hallucinations are apparently apart of being drugged out on sex pollen.
And apparently, they’re really bad.
It’s his father that shows the symptom first after nearly two days of being confined to the cabin.
Kane’s eyes had glazed over and spent three hours staring at the wall like he’d been lobotomized. Nothing Flint said or did made his father respond him. By the fourth hour, when Flint had a glass of water from the small kitchen, he was suddenly attacked.
There was a knife in Kane’s hand and he was genuinely trying to slice Flint’s throat open.
They brawled for a while, smashing chairs and breaking what little glass was in the kitchen till Flint slammed his father’s head hard against the wall. Suddenly that disturbing glazed look in Kane’s eyes was gone and all that was left was confusion and shaking hands.
“What the hell was that about?!” Flint snatched the knife off the floor and tossed it into the sink.
Kane rubbed a shaky hand across his face, looking more tired than Flint had seen his father in a while.
“I thought you were someone else…I couldn’t see you. I didn’t know where I was.”
His father sat down on the floor and looked down at his hands, his fingers still shaking with tremors.
Flint almost asked the older man if her was okay but held his tongue. Instead he asked, “What does this mean?”
“It’s progressing faster than it should.” Kane added quietly.
“How come I haven’t had hallucinations?”
“You will.” His father replied back with unnerving certainty. “I had it first because I’m older. You’re twenty while I’m thirty-nine, your metabolism is fighting it off better.”
There was something grim in the line of his father’s mouth.
Flint finally asked, “This…poison…it will eventually go away right?”
Kane just looked at him.
Surely, it couldn’t be that bad?
“No.” Kane looked away. “It won’t naturally dissipate. The poison isn’t really chemical but more spores based. It acts almost like its alive, which means its nature is to multiply.”
“Isn’t…isn’t there anything we can do?” The younger man argued then quickly added after a pause. “Other than the obvious option I mean.”
His father’s silence was more telling than any answer he could have given.
Flint was having an extremely hard time hiding his hard-on.
Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew Kane would be having the same problem. But every time he looked at his estranged father, the older man looked like he was bored out of his mind which only served to make him even more agitated.
Jesus. His balls felt like they were on fire and his own clothes were sandpaper against his skin. It was unbearable.
Hyper-sensitivity wasn’t as kinky as it sounded. It just hurt.
Flint adjusted his watch. Midnight of the second day in their little hell-hole and the young hunter was just about ready to burn the cold little hut down and leave.
He checked his watch again for lack of things to do and blinked at his wrist in confusion.
There was something wrong.
No matter how hard he tried, the markings on the clock face made no sense to him.
He couldn’t read the numbers.
Actually he could focus his eyes on anything.
Suddenly there were warm hands on his chin, tilting his face up as he blearily blinked away the sudden vertigo.
Who was talking?
The deep voice was very close and he couldn’t recall when had sat down.
Were the walls always that strange shade brown? Or was it green?
“Flint, focus on me.” That voice commanded and Flint slowly made eye contact. “Do you know where you are?”
“Wrong. Try again. Where are you?”
“The devil’s ass?” he muttered.
Those large, scarred hands nudged his face closer and Flint could suddenly think clearly again. His father’s face was inches away and while it was still stony and sharp, there was a slight crease in his soot coloured eyebrows.
Flint felt something warm trickling down his nose and smudged it on his fingers. He inspected his hand with vacant curiosity, his head still half lucid and filled with cotton.
Blood. His nose was bleeding.
Suddenly his father’s large palms where on his shoulders and urging Flint to lie down. The abrupt contact felt too sharp, too sensitive and too hot. He wanted to shrug them off but Kane’s grip was doing things to his groin that made him want to curl up in a ball and die. Goddamn pollen.
Flint pushed the older man away. He didn’t need Kane’s sympathy or help…or the mortifying boner between his legs.
“Oi, get off.”
“Stop moving.” The older man ordered firmly. “Your nose is bleeding all over the place.”
“I don’t fuckin’ need your help!” Flint snapped.
“Can’t you just follow a direct instruction for once in your life?” Kane growled deep and warningly, his temper rising and his ire increasing.
“Not from you!”
Flint was aware how petulant he sounded but the pounding in his head and the fire in his groin was making him less inclined to deal with his shitty father.
“You keep this up and you’ll get that poison circulating faster in your veins.” Kane barked coldly. “Just do as I say.”
“Fuck you!” Flint spat, his voice dripping with malcontent. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, whether as a captain of the Watchman Unit or as my father!” The younger man started coughing but he continued on. “You forfeited that right years ago when you decided you wanted jack-shit to do with me and left!”
The wheezing became worse in Flint’s lungs and his mouth felt bone dry.
Kane just stared all grim and cold and Flint just wished his father would look at him with something other than professional politeness or apathetic distance.
God he hated that man.
The older soldier sighed and rubbed his face then finally he spoke low and infuriatingly calm.
“Fine then, just listen.” Kane leaned away from Flint. “We’ve tried to wait the poison out and usually that works but whatever strain of pollen the Seelie Queen used is far more potent than the usual.”
The captain moved back, his slate-grey eyes analyzing Flint’s body like his was a weapon that had to be taken apart.
Flint dreaded that words he knew his father would say.
“You’ve begun hemorrhaging from your nose and soon it’s going to be your ears and then your eyes.” Kane listed mater-o-factly. “I won’t be that far behind. At this rate, my guess is that we’ll both be dead within the next thirty hours.”
His father’s pale eyes bore holes into Flint’s growing sense of doom.
“We’ll be fine.” Flint insisted but he knew his words were weak. “Just…a few more hours. We might be better then.”
It was flimsy logic and the young fighter’s words felt even less convincing when his nose started bleeding again.
“Flint…” the older man started firmly but quietly. “You don’t have to listen to me just because I’m your captain and most certainly not because we share genetic material. But if nothing else, take my advice as one soldier to another.” Kane leaned in and continued with certainty. “We can’t wait this out.”
Flint understood the logic, he really did, but the unsettling churning in Flint’s gut screamed an insistent no, no, no.
“I’m not having sex with you.”
Not with my own father.
Flint turned away, unable to look at the captain.
His father just stared at him for a little while longer with unreadable eyes. Then after a long moment, Kane nodded.
It was just a few words but it conveyed easy acceptance. Acceptance at father’s own death and Flint wasn’t surprised that the older man wasn’t going to push further.
As much as Flint despised the man, he knew Kane had outstanding moral fiber. He’d never push. He’d never force. He’d make sure everyone always had a choice but without losing focus. It was why the man was so damn successful as a captain, as protector and legendary as a leader.
Fucking noble asshole, Flint thought helplessly.
“Get some sleep.” Kane instructed as he stood up and turned away.
So Flint watched his father walk out of the room and furiously crushed the anxiety rotting in his stomach and the hot burn in his groin.
It was official.
They were going to be dead by tomorrow.
The next morning, after jerking-off nearly six times in a row, Flint looked down at his hands and watched the white semen dry on his skin with a sort of muted depression.
He was a prodigy in his field.
He was an orphan that pathed his own future on hard work and sheer bull-headedness.
He was an expert marksman by the age of fifteen and already promoted to a frontline fighter against the border creatures that lurked at the dark edges of the city.
He was a protector, just like his sweet dead mother had said he’d become.
He was a fucking survivor.
So why was he counting down the hours to his death when he could do something to prevent it? Was this how he was going to die?
Desperately masturbating alone in a cold room?
Flint washed his hands and leaned heavily against the bathroom sink while trying to not think about the man in the other room. The other survivor who had accepted so quickly that he would die because a prideful, bitter child couldn’t sacrifice a little bit of himself to save both their lives.
Suddenly Flint had to see Kane, had to talk to him. Maybe even apologize? He wasn’t sure. But all he knew was that he couldn’t stay in his small three-by-three room feeling guilty as fuck till the moment his dropped dead.
So he quietly entered father’s private room.
The older man was sleeping rather uncomfortably on the hard mattress.
The pollen was making staying alive a terrible endurance with the hyper-sensitivity and the raging hard-ons. Kane was no different.
But before Flint woke the man up, he spied something in Kane’s hands.
It was a little locket made of silver and delicate hair-line carvings. The feminine trinket looked out of place in his father’s large hands that was more suited to holding guns than delicate jewelry. Curiosity getting the best of him, Flint looked closer and realised there was a picture of a baby girl inside the open locket.
Something cold ran down Flint’s spine.
The girl was Kane’s two year-old daughter. Emma? Anna? He couldn’t remember the child’s name. All Flint knew was that Kane had family – actual proper family – and the child would become fatherless and it would be partially Flint’s fault.
“Shit.” The young marksman quietly swore to himself.
He wasn’t a family-wrecker and despite his sporadic fantasies about killing his absent father, Flint wasn’t going to suddenly commit patricide.
He rubbed his face with defeat and started to take off his combat jacket then his shoes. Flint swallowed the bile in his throat as he psyched himself into the right mindset.
He could do this.
All he had to do was have sex with his father.
Kane woke to the feeling of someone unbuckling his belt.
Without even opening his eyes, the older man reached under the pillow and grabbed his gun but cold hands stopped his movement before his could shoot the invader dead on the spot.
“None of that Kane.” said a low voice from below.
Kane’s eyes blinked open to the bizarre sight of his estranged son threading his belt out of his combat pants and dropping it onto the floor.
“What are you doing?”
Kane asked with some alarm as he watched his son sit with his head near his crotch. The boy didn’t answer as his deft quick hands making little work of pulling down his fly.
Then with next to no warning, Flint reached out and cupped Kane’s swollen groin with a gentle squeeze.
Flint’s hand palmed his hard erection through his boxers, rubbing long strokes through the fabric in firm, controlled movements. The older man felt electric jolt run up his legs and swell directly into his organ.
It felt unbelievably delicious. And unbelievably wrong.
He immediately sat up and grabbed his son’s hands and stopped him in his tracks.
For the first time Kane caught sight of Flint’s face properly and there was a strange blank expression staring back at him. That was not the face of a person that was enthused. That wasn’t even the face of a person that was vaguely alright.
What the hell was the boy doing?
“Leave Flint.” Kane ordered quietly, trying very hard to ignore the repulsive erection he’d been carrying for the last three days. The captain had even manage to reel in the violent urge to rut up against the mattress to an acceptable level but now the boy had ruined all his work and he was now resorting to digging his nails into his own palms so he wouldn’t start masturbating right then and there.
Flint remained frozen at the foot of the bed, unmoving and still.
“I’m not leaving.” The younger man finally said. “I’m not…I’m not going to carry the guilt of killing the both of us because of my indecision.”
The boy clenched his hands and then tugged them harshly out of Kane’s grip.
The man looked at the boy and asked, “You don’t want this.”
“Of course I don’t!” Flint barked. “Despite that fact that I’ve been horney as hell for the last three days, it doesn’t mean I actually want to have sex with you.”
“Then don’t.” Kane added simply. “Since I don't want this either.”
“Well then that’s something we both agree on for once but it doesn’t change the fact that we’re gonna have to do this.” The boy said it with a grimace that didn’t bolster Kane’s confidence.
“You were pretty adamant about leaving it alone last night. What changed?” Kane asked curiously.
Flint frowned and looked out the window where the rain was pelting against the glass.
“Nothing changed.” The boy added quickly. “I just…I’m not dying like this.” And neither are you, seemed to be implied.
Kane eyed the erection tenting underneath his son’s boxers. Well at least physically they were more than ready but that was the spores talking. Mentally, his son looked as if he was a world away and even Kane wasn’t sure he’d be able to bleach his brain out afterwards if they did this.
“I get that.” Kane agreed. “But you’re not doing this if you can’t even look at me.”
Flint snapped his amber eyes at him, all defiant and burning like whiskey on fire.
“We're doing this and that’s the end of it.”
Kane reached over and gently unfurled Flint’s palm.
When they opened, it revealed bloody fingernail marks in the boy’s soft flesh.
“It doesn’t look like it to me.”
Kane knew he said the wrong thing because there was coiling anger rolling behind Flint’s eyes, ready for a challenge and ready to prove Kane wrong.
The captain sighed.
Why was dealing to boy so difficult? He had better chances of taming homicidal wild-things on drugs than the young man he could barely called ‘son’.
Flint was suddenly on top of Kane, thighs bare and straddling his stomach. Those pale amber eyes glared down at him with impotent fury and cocky confidence.
“Listen to me Kane.” The boy said his name like it tasted of raw meat. “I’m a Watchman soldier. I’ve trained to serve and to protect and I’m more than aware that I’ll probably die on a mission. Hell, I probably won’t live past thirty.” Flint sneered, his palm resting on the both sides of Kane’s head. “So if I’m going to die, it’ll be because I was doing my job right. It’ll be because I was saving someone’s life or protecting the people I love most.” The young man leaned right up to Kane’s face, his breath hot against his cheek. “So I ain’t gonna fucking to die from blue-balls, you get me?”
With no warning, Flint rolled his hips in one grinding rotation and Kane shut eyes from the stinging arousal erupting in his groin and burning up his entire body.
Kane half hissed and half growled. “You know that the only way to flush the poison is to have sex, not just some jerking off. It’s all or nothing.”
Flint scowled at him. “Dude I know.”
“No Flint.” Ignoring the burn in his cock, Kane added, “You tell me right here and right now that this is something you consent to.”
The young soldier gave him a steady look that was more a glare than anything else.
“Don’t have much of a choice now do I?”
The younger huffed, “Yes, I consent.”
His son rolled his hips again and pressed their erections together with unforgiving pressure.
“I ain’t dying here.” The boy whispered again into his ear and then yanked both their boxers down, freeing the cocks into the open air.
We ain’t dying here.
Then his son grounded down again and Kane’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he bit his lips till they bled.
It was a strange experience as they stripped off their clothes.
The poison made their bodies want immediate skin-on-skin contact with a raging need that bordered on the ludicrous, however, the functional parts of their minds that moved separately from the primal urges seemed to find the entire ordeal awkward and strange.
Trying to remember what to do when prepping for anal intercourse, Kane moved his hand to the younger man’s ass to loosen the opening but stopped immediately when Flint flinched back.
“You don’t need to do that.”
The older man frowned. “Boy, this isn’t going to pleasant if I don’t prep you properly.”
There was an odd look on the boy’s face.
“Look, you just don’t need to alright.” The boy’s suddenly looked embarrassed. “Because I already prepped myself before you woke up.”
The captain blinked at the sudden image of it. Normally that wouldn’t be Kane’s kink at all but he blamed the pollen for making his cock ache furiously at the idea.
His son reached under the bed and fished out a bottle from his combat gear.
“We don’t have any lube but this gun oil works just fine.”
Kane watched as Flint warmed the oil between his hands, an oddly considerate thing to do before lathering his father’s shaft under the firm slide of his hand. The older man breathed sharply through his teeth as he watched the boy rub his cock till it was slick and wet.
It was ridiculous. The captain hadn’t been this ready to cum so fast since he was a teenager and it was just a hand job.
The boy was efficient. His movements made no exaggerated and wasteful action even in sex, just like he did when fighting or anything else Kane observed his son do. So it took little to no time for Flint to straddle his hips and line the head of his cock to the entrance.
But the boy stopped before going any further.
Kane watched as a faint tremble ran down his son’s arms and suddenly touched the young man thighs. What should he say? The situation was so alien and bizarre that Kane was left uncharacteristically floundering for direction.
“Have you done this before? With a man I mean.” Kane asked quietly, afraid any loud sounds would scare the boy off.
There was a pause and then Flint reluctantly answered.
“No.” He looked at his father and asked, “You?”
Kane shook his head as well. “No.”
A sudden and unexpected breathy laugh escaped out of his Flint’s mouth.
“The blind leading the blind eh?”
Kane agreed with grim amusement.
There was a moment where they both stared at each other with odd little smiles, unsure whether to laugh or cry at their extremely unusual predicament. Then the moment passed and Flint began to lower his body into his father’s cock.
The mushroom head went in first but it took a good minute for Flint to move again after that. The boy hissed as he continued the descent, his arms shaking and his eyes shut tight. Kane all the while rubbed comforting strokes up and down the boy’s hips and back, his arms unaccustomed to gentle soothing movements when they were usually used to maim and kill.
Then after five minutes, Flint was fully seated in his father’s lap.
Kane didn’t dare to move.
Too tight. Too tight.
Then Flint began to ride him slowly in long careful draws and Kane’s mind unraveled.
Flint preferred to bottom from the top, he had more control that way and he refused to be degraded any further then he already was by being pinned face down into the mattress like a dog.
But any and all pride went right out the window when his father began to thrust upwards into him and the pain slowly bloomed into shocking pleasure. It wasn’t supposed to actually feel good, Flint complained in his head. But then again, wasn’t it the sex pollen’s job to drive them into a mating frenzy?
And it wasn’t just Flint. His father gripped his hips a little too tightly and his fingers dug too deeply as he guided his son’s body up and down onto his cock, the pace slow but quickly swelling into a rapid tempo.
“D-does it still hurt?” Kane suddenly gasped out.
Flint slammed him hips back down again and choked out a reply.
“N-n-no!” the younger man answered as he tried to suck in air. “It’s f-fine.”
“Just fine?” Kane suddenly asked in a husky tone as he ground upwards with shocking pressure.
Flint’s thighs trembled.
“S-shut up man. Just keep doing whatever the fuck you’re doing.” The man’s son hissed out in between trusts. “And wipe that stupid grin off your face.”
His father just responded by increasing the pace of his pelvic thrusts, the girth of his cock stretching Flint’s ass a little more every time their hips met with a rude slap.
At some point Kane reached up and gave his son’s penis a few experimental pumps and with barely a warning, Flint’s body stopped altogether and orgasmed all over his father’s hand.
“Shit.” The boy cried when the last spurt of cum streamed down his abs.
“Are you alright?” Kane managed to ask while he continued to piston into his son’s body.
The boy couldn’t talk as the sex pollen flared inside his body with burning pulses.
Kane’s son made some intangible sound as he looked down at his cock and found it still rock-hard and swollen. Wasn’t it over yet?
His father suddenly made as strange sound and before Flint could register what was happening, Kane flipped his son onto his back and increased the punishing pace of his thrusts while holding the boy’s legs up.
After a particularly bruising grind, Kane tensed up and with a growl, he came inside his son.
That should have been the end of it. But it wasn’t.
After that first orgasm their cocks didn’t soften. In fact, it became more agitated and red as the seconds passed and soon they found themselves rutting against each other with barely even a minute break.
It became obvious that they would have to fuck more than once.
They both stayed in that room for the next hour and managed to hit nine orgasms during that time. They were both tired but an unnatural strength was driving Kane and Flint into flushing the poison out of the system.
So father and son stayed in that room and fucked till the rain stopped and the sun was high up in the sky. They didn’t kiss and they didn’t talk but they understood each other for the first time by listening to their bodies and each other’s breathy moans.
It was almost high noon when Flint and Kane started to feel the poison slowly moving and purging out of their systems.
Flint was flayed out on the bed with his legs bouncing back and forth by his ears as his body writhed beneath the pressure of his father's penis pushing inside him at a rapid pace. His cock was rubbed raw between their stomachs and he could only hope to remain conscious as his body gripped onto his father's organ with a carnal need that embarrassed him.
“Holy fuck!” The younger man groaned for the tenth time as he came again.
He actually did pass out with guttural wail ripping from his throat as body shook in violent tremors from his full-body orgasm, his limbs shaking and his eyes rolling into the back of his head. His back arched off the bed, and then he did it again three more times as he ejaculated in heavy bursts, flinging the milky fluid on the wall behind his head.
By that point, Flint could barely speak, his voice choking in his throat as tried to suck air around the burning in his stomach.
“Orgasms aren’t supposed to feel like that.” The boy mumbled, barely coherent.
He distantly noticed his father above him, hammering his red girth into his body like it was the only thing he knew how to do.
Kane was looking down at him with a strange expression on his face, sort of like distant wonder as he watched his son convulse as another orgasm exploded out of his boy body.
Flint’s legs quivered and vibrated as it wrapped around his father's waist.
"Shit. Shit. Shit." The young man chanted.
He was so tired but he couldn’t stop and just when he thought they might be finished, something strange happened.
The captain could feel a swelling in his groin.
He looked down at his son blinking at him in confusion, a red flush crawling up his cheeks as the boy gasped in surprise.
"...What the fuck?" Flint suddenly gasped but this time he choked a little. “Is it growing!?"
Kane looked down at his body and began to notice a curious tingling and his groin started to feel tight.
Shit. It really was.
His son's hole was stretching more than before – red and pink with tension – Kane couldn't see his penis because it was buried inside his son's body, but he could feel it. His cock was horrifically and impossibly getting larger – pushing and filling the small space inside his son.
The boy was panting and writhing and a panicked look started to crawl onto the young man’s face.
Startled, Kane realised Flint actually called him dad.
It had to be the pollen. He was going to kill that bitch when all this was said and done.
But for now Kane leaned closer till his forehead touched his son’s shoulder and suddenly he could feel an unnatural instinct suddenly whispering to him at the back of his head. Keep going, keep fucking. It was a command he couldn't resist.
So he did just that.
His son threw his head back in a silent scream as his father gripped his hips and with one swift movement and impaled him till the boy's body flung itself into the headboard.
From there the older man piston his hard organ into his son's body, unable to stop or comprehend his cock still swelling inside.
Keep moving. Keep pushing. Keep breeding.
The man pushed his own confused thoughts out of the way when he realised the sound coming from beneath him.
His son was crying.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." he hushed into his child's ear. "I...I can't stop."
"It's too big!" his son gasped.
"I know.” Kane panted. "I know but I can't stop it." I don't know how!
That's when he noticed it.
His son's stomach was...bulging.
They both blinked down at the strange shape protruding from inside Flint’s body and they both realised what it was.
"That...that's..." his son's eyes were wide and glassy with lust and pain and confusion.
"Shit." was all Kane could manage.
His organ had grown to the length of his forearm and the girth was almost as thick as his son's neck. That couldn't be possible. That wasn’t possible.
"...it stopped growing." Kane managed to croak out as he tried to gain control over himself.
"How?" his son looked back at him. "How is this happening? How haven't I been torn?"
The older man decided to test something.
He gently moved and they both watched with a mixture of horror and freaky sort of lust as the thing moved underneath his son's skin.
"Oh my god." his son gasped with unexpected heat. "I see it moving. This is officially the weirdest shit that’s ever happened."
The boy was panting harder than before, his eye never leaving the cock bulging and swelling from underneath the muscles of his stomach.
Kane suddenly notice there was too much slick and slime oozing out of his son’s backside, a deluge of clear, warm fluid coating his insides as well as the outside, almost like the slick that covered the walls of female vaginas.
"Something's happening with your insides."
"No...I mean something came out." Kane swiped some of the cleat liquid and rubbed it into his son's chest.
"What the hell is that?"
"Natural lube?" The man responded as he continued to gently thrust in small pushes. "And your skin seems to be more elastic. Reckon that's why you haven't torn anything."
The boy fell back on his back and sighed while trying to desperately compartmentalize.
"Well, thank fuck for that then." Flint sobbed suddenly unsure what to say or do.
"Does it still hurt?" his father asked still managing to sound worries while vibrating with lustful energy.
"No...no something's happening. I can't..." The suddenly his son started to shake and move on his own. "I can't stop my hips, I need...I need...I need..."
His father pushed just a little deeper, watching his cock bulge and shift in his son’s stomach.
He didn't think it was appealing. No he didn't but...
"What do you need?" Kane whispered into the boy’s ear, his lust suddenly surging back with a viciousness that nearly floored him.
The Flint suddenly sat up and wrapped his arms around his father's neck and sat himself down into his father’s lap without ever breaking connection with Kane’s oversized shaft.
Then Flint began to bounce with wild recklessness.
"Shit. Shit. Shit!" he swore into his father's ear.
The young soldier suddenly slammed his entire body weight into his father's lap, impaling himself and his stomach protruding almost grotesquely as he sat fully seated on his father's throbbing organ. His head was thrown back and his eyes wide with shock.
"I can't. Dad. Fuck! Hurry! Do something for fuck sake!"
The older captain frowned as he began to thrust. "What's happening?
"I don't know! Just stop talking and..."
His son's eyes widened impossibly and the next moment his was screaming.
Ah. The older man realised it in between his haze of lust.
The boy roughly pushed his father on his back without a single word or explanation and snapped hips up and down at a frenzied pace, feeling the overwhelming girth of his father new size. The young man rode Kane desperately trying to find the spot inside him with an almost animal single-mindedness.
"Slow down boy."
"Can't." was all his son could squeeze out in between gasps.
Then he bounced back and forth and tried moving his hips in a circular motion till finally, finally, Flint found it. His father's gigantic girth pressed itself against the prostate at a sweet angle and it sent the young man wailing and arching his back.
The older man obliged and grabbed the boy's hips and thrusted up.
His son started wailing and his thighs started shaking.
Kane’s body could feel pre-orgasmic heat pooling viciously in his belly and his cock throbbed painfully. He felt like he couldn't stay inside his son's body without bursting and then his cock started to vibrate and swell again. His son was a writhing mess of nerves and drooling onto the pillow as his father slammed and again and again in his body.
"Dad..." his son's voice was weak his eyes were glazed. "Something's happening again..."
The boy shuddered as the man screwed his son into oblivion. He could feel it too.
His son started to rub the protruding impression of his father's penis through the skin of his swelling stomach.
The sight was shredding the older man's mind into pieces.
Stop saying my name like that, his father snapped viciously in his mind.
Flint kept squeezing his father's cock through the bulge of stomach as the older man plowed his pulsing cock in again and again. He could feel it all peeking to a white, blinding light.
Kane snapped his hips one last time into the wet mess of a boy beneath him and growled low and impossibly deep. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move and all he could do was grunt in agony and pleasure and finally, FINALLY his cock exploded.
Hot, sticky, warmth flooded both of them as semen began to spray out of both of them.
Flint was convulsing in uncontrollable tremors as a full-body orgasm tore through his limbs wave after wave till nothing but a whimpering, moaning sound escaped from his son’s gaping mouth.
The older man's eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body went on fire.
An age later, when both of them were spent, the older man propped himself off his son and looked down at the boy's face.
Lazy and tired, his son opened his heavy eye-lids and looked at his father with disbelief.
"Were okay now?" The younger man whispered, his voice nearly gone.
His father brushed his son's hair away with shaky fingers, unsure and unfamiliar with such a gentle movement.
"Yes." Kane brushed his fingertips across his son’s eyelids and his flush cheeks. "Yes, I think so."
They both could feel that their bodies were no longer heavy with lust and poison.
They were going to live.
Suddenly Flint smiled with all his teeth and whispery laugh escaped his throat so unabashedly full of glee and relief.
His father though the boy looked like sunlight after heavy rain.
He’s beautiful. The thought caught Kane off guard and he uncomfortably squashed it down.
His son locked eyes with him.
Without much thought, Flint reached up and brushed his warm fingers against his father's lips.
"Thanks I guess." The boy-soldier offered with an uncharacteristically unsure smile. "For following me here when you didn't need to.”
"Always." And he meant it.
His father suddenly went still and hissed.
"Kane, what's wrong?"
They both looked down where they were still connected. The older man's penis was lodged deep in his son and seemed for all intent and purposes happy to stay in there.
"I can't take it out."
"Seriously? Where stuck?" the son watched with something akin to awe as his stomach was swollen with cum. "Shit how much did you come?"
"What?" the boy started to feel movement inside him. "What wrong, you're sweating."
"I need to go back to normal first before I can pull out."
The boy hissed when his father moved. "How, I thought...I thought we were finished?"
His father's stomach started to clench with convulsions.
"Can you handle another load?" he gritted out in pain. "I think there's only one more left."
"Seriously?" his son asked incredulously. "We've already came like sixteen times. How the hell do you have one more left? And look at my stomach! It's huge! I don't think I can fit anything in there right now."
"No...this feels different."
Suddenly Kane fell on top of his son and started to shake while grinding low and slow.
Then the hot, pulsing cock inside his son began to move all on its own. Then his milky cum exploded into his son's body with little to no warning in great gushing spurts. All the boy could focus on was the wheezing, guttural groan of his father above him.
Then Flint’s belly began to swell more and more till it look so tight and big, they were both sure the boy wouldn't be able to move.
"Christ…” Flint moaned.
The younger man began to pant alongside his father as he felt something moving inside his body. The cum swirled inside his belly and impossibly the entire combined sensation of being filled made the boy hit another orgasm.
It blindsided them both when their bodies finally ejaculated the last of their fluids with little to no say on the matter.
"Fuck...what the hell was that?" Flint managed to wheeze out in between the aftershock of his orgasm.
His father pulled his deflated cock bit by bit then suddenly moved it out in one quick tug, making a vulgar squishing sound as it slipped out.
Kane nearly balked as he watched Flint orgasm one last time from just pulling out.
"Did you just...?" he blinked down at the boy.
His son covered his eyes with his arms.
"Shut up man." he sniffed. "Urgh...my body feels messed up. Stop judging me."
He pulled his Flint’s arm away to look at him. "Are you alright?"
The boy hiccupped and sniffed but nodded. "Shit. Yeah, sorry...just a bit fucking overwhelmed right now."
"Language." he reprimanded instinctively.
"Seriously? Language? After what we just did?" the boy laughed like he wasn't sure where up or down was anymore. "Alright, argh, everything's too tight right now. Hey help me get your spunk outta me."
His father gently moved up and watched his son crawl on his hands and knees. Then he watched with a heady sort of dazed look when his boy started to open his twitching, red hole.
After a few minutes, the boy suddenly cried out in frustration as he buried his face down into the mattress.
"What the fuck man!" he pushed his ass into the air and thrusted back. "What the hell's happening? Why won't it come out!?"
His father reached around and started to press into his son's cum-filled swollen stomach.
Slowly, white hot fluid trickled slowly out of the boy's body and dribbled down his thighs.
"Hmph!" the young soldier groaned.
His son placed his hand onto of his father's then pushed down together onto his bulging belly and suddenly, as if a dam had been broken, the pink hole stretched then a torrent of milky cream squirted out on the bed. There was steam rising out of the fluid and they both kept pressing onto the boy's stomach, coaxing the semen out as his father held him from behind.
It took a shocking seven minutes for the boy's stretched body to retract back to half its size.
"Is that all?" the older man asked as his son tiredly collapsed on the soaked bed.
"No." he huffed. "Got a good quarter still in there, I can still feel it inside me but I don't think your spunk is coming out of me anytime soon."
The older growled at himself when he felt his heavy organ twitch.
"Alright, get up, we need to take a shower."
"Can we do that later? I'm fucking sore and it’s totally your fault.”
The boy yelped when his father scooped him up and held him bridal style to the bathroom.
Flint felt uncomfortable as he watched his father bathe him.
No one had paid that much attention to him since his mother’s death and he most certainly didn’t expect it to come from Kane out of all people. But at least the warm cloth scrubbing away at his sore skin felt somewhat calming, especially after the ordeal his body had just gone through. Flint felt his body was still in some kind of shock.
“Sorry.” Kane suddenly whispered not looking at him and firmly focusing on the task of cleaning his son’s body.
“For what?” Flint asked tiredly as his eyes drooped low.
Flint blinked down at the hand shaped discoloration blooming on his hips.
“Oh…” Then he replied easily, “Well sorry about the scratches then.”
And indeed there were long red lines running down his father’s back in multiple places.
They fell back into an easy silence as they both finished cleaning themselves up. Ten minutes later both father and son moved into Flint’s bed since the other one was well and truly ruined and they weren’t feeling hungry so they just settled for some water and crawled underneath the sheets together.
“I know you saw the locket.” Kane suddenly muttered from his side of the bed.
Flint blinked at the man and then shrugged. “So?”
“Christ, what’s with you and apologizing today? Can’t you just go the sleep?” Flint snapped.
Suddenly his father turned around to face his son and pinned him with clear grey eyes that seem to implore Flint too listen to him.
“When you first said that you couldn’t have sex with me, I understood that and I didn’t blame you for making that decision even if it meant we died.” Kane looked at the boy straight in the eye so he understood. “You shouldn’t have had to do this. Any of this. Especially not with me. “
Kane pulled out the locket with the picture of his daughter – his half-sister – and looked at Flint like he was readjusting his view on him.
“But I don’t think you changed your mind because of me.” Kane finished finally.
They both locked eyes on the small picture attached to the delicate chain – a little girl with cherub cheeks and slate grey eyes like her father.
Flint sighed and looked up at the ceiling.
“Forget it Kane, it doesn’t even really matter.” His father didn’t seem very pleased with the answer. He shrugged “I know I was never your first choice.”
The words felt like barbwire around his throat.
If there was something a little sad in Flint’s voice, he ignored it.
The captain eyes sharped onto the younger man’s face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Flint shrugged again, trying and failing at being casual. He really didn’t want to have this conversation but he found it harder and harder to shut up.
“You didn’t want me as a son and you didn’t stick around to help mum raise me and every time I remembered the image of her breaking her back again and again just to put food on the table I blamed you. I blamed you for not being there to help us. It was the easiest thing to do. It was the right thing to do.”
“Shut up and just listen.” The boy snapped. “When I got older, I realised you didn’t even know I existed. Mother never told you I was even born…and suddenly I couldn’t blame you anymore. You couldn’t be the monster I made you out to be.” Flint paused, pushing the urge to cry or something equally embarrassing. “Then…I read your file when I realised I was assigned to your scout team. I can’t remember if I was excited or completely horrified to meet you finally.” There was a dark chuckle. “So when I was reading your file, I got a bit of a rude shock.”
Flint grinned but his eyes were fogged over with old hurt.
“You had family.” The younger soldier looked down at the cotton sheets beneath his hand. “You had a wife. You had a baby daughter. You even had a son – a son you actually raised and probably cared about. All the things I never had.”
Flint found it a little hard to breathe.
“You had a life…without me. And suddenly, it was like I was orphaned all over again.”
Yeah, and maybe Flint was crying a little bit now but he refused to brush it away.
“In our line of profession, where we live short and die fast, we can’t make a habit of wanting things we can’t have. It’s just a waste of time.” The boy swallowed the knot in his throat and turned to look at his father and said, “But you…I’ve wanted you for far too long, despite the fact that I knew it was pointless.”
They were the most honest words Flint would ever say to Kane and probably never again.
He rubbed his eyes feeling suddenly embarrassed and stupid.
“Forget about it.” The younger man drawled sleepily.
But before Flint could turn away and escape, Kane was kissing him.
Actually kissing him. Like properly.
Flint floundered for a few moments, unsure about what to do.
Even while they were having copious amounts of sex, they never kissed. It was a line they wouldn’t cross. Kissing was too intimate, too giving, too sweet.
They weren’t lovers. They weren’t but…
Flint closed his eyes and just let it happen.
He let those strong arms pull him close and wrap him tight. Suddenly it felt as if every caress and every brush of Kane’s lips on his were an apology. Syrup sweet and partially bitter but it was definitely an apology.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
Eventually they both pulled apart, a little dazed and even Kane was sporting a vaguely puzzled look.
His father muttered something unrecognizable while running his palm across his face.
“I’m sorr –“
“What did I say about you apologizing? I don’t fuckin’ want to hear it.” Flint turned away trying to hide the mortifying blush crawling up his neck. He shot a quick look at Kane and quietly added, “It wasn’t that bad anyway, could’ve been a lot worse.”
The man’s lips twitched.
“Now that our ‘chic-flick’ moment is over, can we just go to sleep?” The young man complained while turning back to the window.
The heat in his cheeks refused to disappear as he screwed his eyes shut.
His father didn’t say anything but that was alright, the press of his body was warm and Flint didn’t protest for once when the man invaded his space and wrapped his arms around him.
Tomorrow they’d probably go back to ignoring each other, Flint would fight and spit while Kane would be cold and brush him off. Hell, they weren’t even going to tackle how uncomfortable a confusing their working relationship would get and definitely not touching the family issue with a forty-foot-pole.
But at that moment, all there was between them was their shared warmth between their bodies.
It was enough for now.
Just before Flint started to slip into unconsciousness, he added one last promise:
“Oh and by the way,” he slurred the words with sleepy murder. “I’m gonna fucking skin that Seelie bitch.”
Amused, his father huffed into his hair.
“Not if I get her first.”
Something I wrote for literotica but decided to clean it up and share it with you guys. I don’t write very much and I haven’t really done an original piece in a while but tell me what you think.
I love to hear your feedback.
Thanks for dropping by.