Desperate Summers (Frerard short fic)

Sloppy Seconds

It's hard for me to pretend like nothing happened. When my father came home after that day I felt so dirty, so secretive. I knew I had to keep it a secret, but funnily enough a part of me wanted to tell him. Just casually at dinner be like 'oh yeah, and I'm now calling your best friend Daddy while we fuck behind your back cause I apparently love the taste of cock'. Yeah, something about that told me it wouldn't go down well.

However, it got easier to conceal the secret. Especially three days after the whole ordeal. Mr. Way hadn't talked or even looked at me since then. Well, of course I had seen him walk in and out of his house but we hadn't talked and he hadn't even glanced my way. From my room, I could see his house which made it awfully convent for me to just check on his house every two seconds. I kept dreading and waiting for him to bring some woman home from a bar or wherever he picked the hookers up at. But, none came and I kept breathing out a sigh of relief.

I hadn't known what came over me. It was like the second Mr. Way left my house, I became dick-obsessed. Like I was discovering this new drug that I had already been addicted to my entire life. I ended up watching gay porn and jacking off to that, though I found most of the men either too skinny or too muscly. I read up on how Dom/sub relationships worked and even how to have gay sex properly. Oddly enough, there was not a wiki how for that one.

Either way, my thoughts about Mr. Way stuck with me. I day dreamt of him while I was at work and had to go to on break early to go jack off in the bathroom. Sometimes, being a nineteen year old horny boy kind of sucked.

On the fourth night of Mr. Way neglecting me the attention I so desperately desired, I had had it. I was ready to march over there and knock on his door and demand that he let me get to my knees now, or else I'd- I-d. I'd suck my own dick! I don't know. I'd figure it out if he said no. I was just about to go over there when I saw his shed light cone on. I froze from my bed and looked through my window, seeing the light from his 'art shed' light up and he himself sorting through some things.

A few years ago he had decided he needed somewhere to hold his old paintings in. I knew that was a lie though, everyone did. We all knew that he hated keeping his old work. He was just storing things that his brother had gotten during his time managing WWE wrestlers. He didn't want anyone to know that though so people wouldn't go steal expensive shit.

I still watched though, hoping he would turn around and just pay some attention to me. The problem was, was that I wasn't actually expecting him too. So when he turned around and looked toward my window I quickly spun around and tried to act casual, like I hadn't been stalking him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his figure standing there, staring. I was pretty sure he hadn't seen me watching him, therefor I was thankful. I decided quickly that this was my chance. This was how I was gonna get him to come back for more sooner. There was no way I wanted to be done with the small thing him and I had going, and I wanted more of it sooner.

Slowly, I strode over to my door and locked it securely. When I looked in the mirror I had hanging behind my door, I could see Mr. Way through the window in the reflection. By the way he was staring, I knew he could see me too. I pretended not to see him as I slowly reached down for my shirt, and pulled it above my head. The clothing hit the floor with a small thud and my heart began to beat faster. Mr. Way leaned against his shed with his arms crossed, watching me strip. I reached for my pants and slowly unbuckled them, pulled them down with ease. I was slow to let them glide over my ass, making sure I turned and propped it up a little. I was giving him a show.

As a kid, Mr. Way had always been there. He was my fathers best friend, so he was always over here watching football games and playing poker with my Dad. I mostly stayed out of their way and let myself be locked in my room. I remember when I was probably about eight or so, going over to his house and having a water gun fight with him and his daughter, Bandit. Thinking back to it now, I wondered when Mr. Way started seeing me something other than just a kid. Maybe he still did in a sense, but when did he start to want to fuck me? I knew that Mr. Way had always been a handsome man, but I had never thought about him sexually until the other day.