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Denuo / De Integro

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After (continued):

After the whole “hey, um, so I had sex with your dad” conversation Angel doesn’t talk to Rhys for nearly a month.

During the first week she ignores him completely, just looks straight past him as if he doesn’t even exist. In the second week she stares him down frostily whenever he tries to talk to her, to apologize. By the third week Rhys has resorted to outright bribery, bringing her cups of coffee on which he has written “I am so so sorry” and “It’ll never happen again.”

Rhys is pretty sure the girl who sits next to Angel in Econ - Gaige? - thinks that Rhys cheated on her. He’s not sure if the truth is better or worse.

Angel finally, begrudgingly, accepts his apology when he drops to his knees in front of her out on the quad. He’s beyond caring about making a spectacle of himself; besides, a guy begging for a girl’s forgiveness is far from the strangest thing that courtyard has seen.

“All right, all right!” She hisses, stepping up close to him and poking him in the chest. “But you had better mean it, Rhys. Never again.”

“Never,” Rhys promises, putting hand over his heart.

Angel eyes him suspiciously. “ And you’re buying me coffee for the rest of the quarter.”

“Anything you want,” Rhys says, smiling wide at being accepted back into Angel’s good graces.

It’s fine. He’s fine. He’s gotten it out of his system.

Months later:

Rhys knows that accompanying Angel to her dad’s house for Spring Break probably isn’t his best idea, but Jack isn’t even going to be there, off on a business trip somewhere. Rhys figures it can’t hurt to crash at her place while campus is deserted; Rhys isn’t sure exactly what it is that Jack does, but Angel’s house is huge.

That’s that plan anyway, but on the fourth day the front door opens and it’s Jack , home early, and of course Angel is out running errands and Rhys is alone in the house. The look of surprise on Jack’s face when he find Rhys lounging in front of the TV is almost comical, but it quickly morphs into a grin as Jack puts his bag down and leans against the doorjamb.

“Well, he llo . To what do I owe this pleasure, kiddo?”

The following conversation is awkward - “Angel invited me.” “Did she now.” “Uh...yes?” - but it ends with Jack putting his hands up in mock surrender. “Far be it from me to deny my little girl her friends.” Jack scoops up his bag and heads up the stairs, saluting Rhys as he passes. “Enjoy your stay, kid.” And that is apparently that.

At least, that is that for about ten minutes, before Rhys gives in and follows Jack upstairs. He had only been intending to talk to Jack, honestly - something about please don’t mention to Angel how you made me scream with your dick, she was really pissed about that - but when Rhys pokes his head into Jack’s study all rational thought flees.

Jack isn’t even doing anything, but he’s in his shirtsleeves and has put on a pair of reading glasses, and somehow that’s all it takes for Rhys’ mouth to go dry. Jack looks up and raises an eyebrow at him, but when Rhys doesn’t respond beyond a faint swallow, Jack smirks and comes around the desk. He rests one forearm on the doorframe and Rhys knows that he should leave, should turn around and get the hell out, but Jack leans in until his face is inches from Rhys’.

“I don’t need to worry about you and my little girl, do I.” It’s not a question, but Rhys shakes his head anyway.

“I didn’t see Angel’s car. Is she out?” Rhys nods dumbly, and Jack hums thoughtfully. “And how long will she be gone?”

Rhys has every intention of saying, “I’m going to go now,” and suiting actions to words, but instead what comes out is: “A couple more hours.”

The grin that breaks over Jack’s face does bad, bad things to Rhys’ brain, which is how he finds himself naked - again - spread out over Jack’s lap, hands braced on Jack’s shoulders, riding Jack’s dick so hard the office chair is making ominous creaking sounds.

Jack hisses a breath out through his teeth. “Fuck, you’re tight, kid.”

“I have a name,” Rhys says breathlessly, but he feels his delivery is somewhat undercut by the way he’s grinding down into Jack’s lap.

“I know.” Jack leans up and bites the front of Rhys’ throat. “But since you’re bouncing on my dick like you need it to breathe, I’m going to call you whatever I want. How does that sound, baby boy?” Rhys shudders, and only partially from the way Jack is dragging his blunt nails down Rhys’ back.

“You like that? You like it when Daddy calls you good names?” Rhys’s whole body clenches up and his head falls back on a gasp because oh god, he’s in so much trouble, this is so wrong but hearing Jack’s voice curl around Daddy sets his nerves on fire.

“Y-yes, I-” Jack’s cock is filling him up so good , it’s hard to concentrate on anything else, but Jack is coaxing him along with little nips at the side of his neck and a murmured, “Come on baby, you can say it.”

“D- daddy ,” Rhys gets out and he feels Jack grin against his skin. “I’ll be good for you, so good-” He stutters to a stop as Jack’s hands slide over his ass and down to where Jack’s fucking in to him. “Oh god.”

“I know you will,” Jack says, lifting his head from Rhys’ neck. He captures Rhys’ lips in a kiss that Rhys returns sloppily, desperately. Jack skates his fingers over where Rhys is stretched tight around Jack’s dick, not pressing in but definitely there , and Rhys whimpers into Jack’s mouth.

He promised Angel, he promised , but it’s so hard to hold on to that when Jack makes him feel so good. She’s his best friend after Vaughn, he doesn’t want to hurt her, but Jack is driving him out of his mind. Rhys’ fantasies have gotten worse (or maybe better) since that time in his dorm room, and he’s been lying to himself about getting Jack out his system - he’s been guiltily jerking off to the memory of Jack’s hands on him for months, his own fingers a poor substitute for Jack’s cock. Having Jack’s mouth on his and Jack’s dick filling him up again is just as good as Rhys remembers it - maybe better - and Rhys doesn’t want this to end.

Angel is definitely going to kill him; he can almost hear her voice yelling at him. Rhys lifts his mouth from Jack’s and closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to think about Angel right now.

“Dad? Rhys?”

Rhys’ eyes fly open in horror. Oh god, it hadn’t been his imagination - that was definitely Angel’s voice coming up the stairs.

This can’t be happening to him again .

“I saw your car, Dad, I know you’re up he-”

Angel’s voice cuts off when she reaches the study door that they had stupidly, stupidly , left open. She stumbles mid-step when she sees them, hands flying to her mouth, but then her eyes catch fire and she shrieks.

Jack starts hard enough that Rhys loses his balance, tumbling out of the chair. Rhys hits the floor in a tangle of limbs, and the only good thing about this, the only thing, is that Jack’s huge desk hides him from Angel’s view. Jack bolts out of the chair, then stops short, seeming to remember that he’s only half-dressed, but Angel has already slammed the door shut. Rhys winces at the muffled words that make it through the heavy oak.

“You said never again, Rhys! You promised !” The door shakes as Angel kicks it, then her footsteps echo down the hall as she stomps angrily away, still yelling. “I’m disowning you both!”

Jack looks at the closed door and looks back at Rhys, clearly conflicted. He looks a wreck, clothing disheveled, cock hanging out of his pants, and despite everything, despite the fact that this is the second fucking time this has happened to him, Rhys still wants Jack, still craves him. He’ll deal with the consequences later.

Something must show on Rhys’ face, because Jack growls and hauls him up and around, shoving him face first into the wall and pushing back into him practically in one motion. Rhys gasps and scrabbles at the wall for purchase - somehow Jack’s cock feels even bigger like this, hot and thick as Jack fucks back into him with short, sharp thrusts.

Never again , huh?” Jack pants into Rhys’ ear. “I guess this makes liars out of us both.” Rhys just whines, too focused on the way Jack is splitting him open to form a coherent answer, but Jack doesn’t seem to need one.

“See, I also told my little girl ‘never again,’ that I’d keep my hands off of you, but damn , you make it hard, kiddo, coming over here all pretty , with those legs and that mouth. ” Jack snakes a hand around and grabs Rhys cock, almost too hard, stroking fiercely. “And then you follow me in here, like a lost little lamb, what am I supposed to do, huh?” Rhys jerks, and even the knowledge that Angel is somewhere in the house fuming doesn’t stop him from pressing forward into Jack’s hand and back onto Jack’s dick.

“I didn’t hear you protest too hard, though,” Jack says, and Rhys wonders vaguely how he can keep talking like that when Rhys feels like he’s coming apart at the seams. “In fact, I didn’t hear you protest at all .”

Jack thrusts into him hard at the same time Jack’s hand twists on his cock. Rhys’ knees buckle, but Jack’s got him pinned and he has nowhere to go. Jack’s thrusts pick up pace, and his other hand digs into Rhys’ hip.

“Are you going to come for me, Rhys?” Rhys’ stomach tightens hearing his name on Jack’s lips, and he gasps out a “yes,” bracing his arms the best he can.

“Come on then. Be a good boy and come for Daddy,” and Rhys’ eyes practically roll up in his head as his orgasm crashes through him. Jack groans as Rhys’s body tightens up, and his own hips jerk forward, but Rhys is only dimly aware of Jack spilling inside him, too caught up in his own release.

Jack leans heavily on him for a long moment, then shifts back and lets himself slip out of Rhys, and Rhys hates himself a little for the way he regrets the loss. He turns slowly, not sure if he can look Jack in the eye right now, but when he forces himself to look up Jack is regarding him thoughtfully.

“You and I are going to have a long talk sometime soon, kiddo,” Jack says. A large crash from downstairs cuts off whatever he was going to say next, and Jack winces. He scoops Rhys’ pants off the floor and tosses them at him. Rhys nearly fumbles the catch, and Jack tsks at him as he puts his own clothes back in order.

“That is, if we survive the firing squad downstairs.” Another crash echoes through the house, and Jack jumps guiltily. “Better hurry it up. The longer we wait the worse it’s going to be.”

Rhys sighs and starts getting dressed. He’s going to owe Angel so many coffees for this.