Alcoholics Anonymous

A/N: To the asshole that pointed out their surname, thanks, I know. I\'m not about to dote masculine names on fags, kthx.



To everyone else, sorry it took so long~ it\'s family reunion time and I got sucked in.



So here\'s the 3rd and final shot. If you want a sequel, lemme know, I\'d be happy to cook one up for you.



... I just realized that I\'m a fucking idiot. I had the whole thing like almost typed completely out and then, like an arse, I didn\'t read what I had written and automatically assumed it was the last chapter I posted, so I deleted it. Only just now am I vaguely remembering that I had typed this shit out.



Fuck, I think I might be the alcoholic. Huh.



.::|::.



Time stood still.



Rather, we both stood still.



I don\'t know exactly what happened after that. I\'m pretty sure I tried to brush it off as a \'fatherly\' kiss but I\'m not quite sure if it was believable. All I know is that Mikhail left my room after that, with a small smile and without a word, and I haven\'t seen him all day today.



Currently I\'m at the table with my laptop and a glass of kool-aid; I can\'t stand the thought of alcohol right now, and I\'m not sure why. Every time I so much as glance in the direction of the bar, I get nauseous.



Letting out a sigh, I run my fingers through my hair. Mikhail hasn\'t called or left a note or anything, so I have no idea where he is. I glance over at the grandfather clock; 1:27 am. I glance at my cell phone; no messages, no texts. I suppose the phone works both ways but I don\'t want to bother him. What if he\'s mad about what I did? Fuck, if I was a normal sixteen year old homosexual boy I think I would be a little freaked out. Just slightly.



Then again if I had a dad as hot as myself...



Ahem. That\'s beside the point.



I let out another sigh and take a sip of my grape drink, and then shut down my laptop and sink into my chair.



This is ridiculous. I should go to bed.



I should--



Oh, he\'s home.



The door shuts behind him and I hear his keys jingling, and he moves into the kitchen and has this adorably confused expression on his face, like he doesn\'t know why I\'m still awake. He\'s wearing a v-neck t-shirt that\'s trendy in the youth these days, and skinny jeans that are rolled up to the knees with some converse on his feet. My Mikky looks so adorable~



"What are you doing up, dad?" He asks, and I shrug in response as I sit up some.



"Workin\'." I take a sip of my kool-aid.



He lofts a brow.



I get defensive.



"What? I\'m not an alcoholic." I bristle, then add, "I can drink kool-aid if I so choose to."



He rolls his beautiful shimmery eyes and I chuckle lightly, before I catch a whiff of marijuana and whiskey.



"... Are you stoned?" I ask, blinking my eyes. It\'s not accusatory, as I particularly don\'t care because my son is perfect and can\'t do any wrong, but still. I\'m curious.



Again he rolls his eyes, "No, Patrick dragged me out to a party. He didn\'t tell me there was gonna be weed or booze there. Jerk." His arms fold over his chest before he sits down at the table to join me.



"Patrick?" I ask, blinking again. I run the name through my head, trying to find the profile that fits Patrick. None.



"The guy I..." he blushed a bit and fidgeted some, and instantly I got the hint.



"Oh." Okay, now I care. "Son, are you sure it\'s a good idea to hang out with him after what happened?" I ask, folding my arms on the table and tilting my head. I don\'t like this kid. First he got my perfect son suspended and now he\'s dragging him to parties where kids do things that mine wouldn\'t even dream of ingesting--



"It\'s fine," he says shortly, and this time I\'m stunned as I blink.



Mikhail has never gotten short with me.



"Mikhail..." I say, leaning forward and letting my hand rest over his. "I just don\'t want you to feel peer pressured into anything that you don\'t want to do. That\'s not fair, and not what real friends do to each other."



He lets out a sigh, and pulls his hand out from under mine and stands. I frown; can\'t I be the comforting father here? Does he not want that?



Is he disgusted from the kiss earlier? So disgusted that he can\'t stand my touch anymore? Can\'t look at me? Doesn\'t want to speak to me?



Oh, my poor Mikky~~!



"It wasn\'t like that, dad."



I pout, and he shakes his head.



"Don\'t pout."



I lift my lips and chuckle lightly. "Still. You\'re allowed to say \'no\' to your friends sometimes."



"I know, I just... wanted to go out is all."



A.K.A. I needed to get away from my creepy father for the day. Too bad he was creepily waiting up for me like some sort of creep.



Agh, I think I\'m stressing about the kiss more than my hormonal son is.



"Oh." I say a bit stupidly, and when Mikhail gets up to leave, I start to think.



This is the part where, if life was a movie, I would get up, envelop him in my arms before he could walk away, and confess my undying inappropriate love for him, and he would confess it back, and then we would make mad hot monkey love and live happily ever after.



But alas, life is not a movie.



However, I find myself reaching out, my larger hand grasping his wrist and stopping him in his tracks. It\'s not a powerful grip, just enough to halt him from moving, and I stand up just as he turns around. He\'s only a few inches shorter than me, and the expression on his face is mildly confused, but overall curious. I take that as a good sign.



"I... was worried." I end up saying. How freaking lame. My eyes cast down to the floor and I take in the scuffs and tears on his shoes and briefly wonder if I should buy him a new pair.



He\'s silent for a moment, and then responds, "... I know."



My eyes lift up to meet his, and there\'s a slight flush on his cheeks. Another inhale on my part and I can smell the alcohol on him; he must at least be slightly buzzed if anything. He pulls his wrist out of my grasp and I\'m sure he\'s going to walk away, but instead he reaches up with both hands and pulls my glasses off of my face, folding them neatly and setting them gently on the table. I can feel my heart beating faster like a lust-crazy teen as he takes a step forward and licks his lips, his emerald hues looking rather uncertain of something.



Is this it? Is this the moment that I\'ve been waiting for, for... who knows how long?



Another step forward and I can see his Adam\'s apple move as he swallows, and he peers up at me surreptitiously beneath his thick black lashes.



"Can... can I ask you something?" He asks, and the unsure tinge in his voice is so adorable I could melt.



"Sure," I breathe out, and I\'m not sure if my voice is really as husky as it sounds to my own ears. Dear God, I hope not. I\'m not a creep Mikky I swear!



"Are you really that concerned about Kim Jeong-Il having pancreatic cancer?"



I blink, and then chuckle, the tension lifting between us.



"No." I say, and then ruffle his hair. "Is that what you really wanted to ask me?"



"Maaaaayyyybe~" he teases, and I can\'t believe he\'s taking on a flirtatious tone.



I think I just had a heart attack.



"Maaaayyybe~?" I mock him playfully and he bats my hands away from his hair; I\'m still ruffling it.



"Hey, hey!" he cries out and moves to start messing with my hair, and at this point I grab his wrists and turn him around with his hands pinned across his chest, his back to my chest as I subdue him in a bear-hug. He wriggles against me and oh, it\'s delicious. "Not fair!"



"Perhaps you should tell daddy the truth before he forces it out of you?" I say with a small chuckle, and instantly the mood shifts and darkens slightly.



"Dad..." he says, and my grip on him loosens as he pulls away and turns around, his emerald eyes slightly defiant as he looks up at me.



I brace myself, waiting for the \'I hate you\'s and \'you\'re a disgusting old man\'s to fall from his lips. Wincing, I close my eyes and look more guilty than I probably should be looking at this point, and I wait.



After a few seconds, I feel a soft pressure against my lips. It sends a warm flare through my jaw, down my neck all the way to the tips of my toes. Is he kissing me? Is this really happening again? I open my eyes and see his closed ones, his lashes resting delicately against his high cheekbones, his head tilted slightly and his hands reach up to gingerly take ahold of my shirt. If it was an attempt to keep me in place, he didn\'t need to worry about that - in an instant my arms wrapped around his body and pulled him closer to me, returning the kiss. A moment passed and we pulled apart, mirror images of flushed faces and lips.



"This is wrong," Mikhail breathed, his eyes glimmering brightly.



"So wrong," I agree, nodding my head, though my eyes won\'t leave his lips.



"Almost illegal."



"It should be."



"We could get in huge trouble."



"Major trouble."



He smirks slightly; it\'s devious and playful and I find myself entirely aroused by it. Am I dreaming? He parts his lips to speak, "... only if I didn\'t want it."



That was all it took for me to crush our lips together once again, tasting the alcohol on his tongue and the slight sweetness on his lips that came from being too close to someone that was smoking weed. Perhaps even kissing someone right after they\'d taken a hit. That thought spurs me to tighten my hold and turn us around, backing him up against the dining room table, lifting him by the hips and setting him down on the surface. His legs part and I take my place between them, jealousy running through my veins as I thought about that Patrick bastard and what he might have made my son do.



"Ah, dad," he pants out, his fingers winding in my hair as he drops his head back. I start to place open-mouthed kisses on his neck and his jawline, leaving a few marks in my wake - this was my son, my beautiful Mikhail. He was perfection in its finest, he was an Adonis, sculpted in the image of a Grecian God.



My lips soon return to his, and any doubts about me wanting him are instantly vanquished from my mind. The only thing that could keep us apart right now was if CPS barged in through my door and witneseds the absolute sin we were partaking in.



But alas, the chances of that are pretty rare, and I\'m a decently lucky guy as it is.



After all, I was lucky enough to get such a perfect son that didn\'t think I was a creep for being sexually attracted to him.



That\'s pretty fucking lucky, if I must say so myself.



I\'m pulled out of my thoughts by a ragged moan that leaves his lips and vibrates my own, as his hands rake down the front of my shirt and start to hurriedly pull up the hem. Tearing it off of my body it\'s cast aside, and I trace the v-neck of his collar before I pull his shirt off as well. Chests bared, my hands on his hips pull him closer to me, our groins lining and rubbing together. I pant harshly, unable to pass enough oxygen to my lungs through my nose alone, and my head is starting to buzz pleasantly. His palms rake over my chest and my own hands mimic his, before reaching up and tangling in his chocolate, perfect locks.



Oh, how stunning my son is. I\'ve never been so thankful in my life that a child was put up for adoption.



"Dorian..." he whispers, and I pull back a bit only to press our lips together once again. The noises he\'s producing are just intoxicating - I have a feeling I\'ll never pick up another bottle of scotch again, so long as I can continue to get drunk off of this boy\'s lips.



"Mikhail..." I pant as he breaks away and starts nibbling on my neck. I can feel my body flushing as I imagine his lips elsewhere, and for a moment I feel oddly submissive. At this beautiful teen\'s mercy I let myself fall further and further into the spiraling black hole of pleasure that he has tossed me into. I let our groins slide together deliciously, searching for that friction that was uniting us in ways that a father and son should not unite.



His thighs moved up and his ankles crossed below my rear, and I surged forward to let my hands brace my upper body on the table as our teeth clashed together in a war of dominance. He pushed forward and my hands left the polished oak surface and he jumped down from the table, his hands on my chest pushing me backwards towards my bedroom.



Ah, apparently he wins the dominant title.



I have no problem with that; none whatsoever.



We fall onto my bed and it\'s not quite as romantic as I would have liked - with rose petals and champagne and silk sheets - but the amount of pleasure and self-satisfaction I was feeling was no doubt the same as it would have been any other way. I had my beautiful precious son in my arms and I was in his and everything was right with the world with him on top of me. My legs parted and drew him in closer and he started nipping at my neck once more, and I let out a sigh as I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom.



To be honest, I haven\'t been with another man - or woman, even - since my high school days. Not since I accidentally outed myself to my parents, that is. Afterwards I\'d had a romp with that boy just to get it over with and out of the way; in my mind a virgin at the age of twenty-five wasn\'t all that appealing, more... embarrassing, really. I just figured when I found someone I wanted to be at least somewhat experienced so that things wouldn\'t be terribly awkward our first time.



But that was once.



And this was again.



Second.



I may as well be a virgin; it\'s been ten years since I\'ve done anything remotely sexual save from a private wank every now and then.



Oh, look, we\'re naked.



I arch up into his touch as my mind returns to the present, his lips devouring my chest as he makes his way further down my body. His hands planted themselves on my hips to keep them in place as he nipped along my hip bones, making tingles run through the base of my spine to the tips of my toes. Where did he learn these things?



"Where did you learn these things?" The shock of jealousy that laces my tone is so completely obvious that I wish I could take back that question. I can\'t help but be so protective when it comes to my beautiful son.



"Internet," was the simple reply I got in return, and I was thankful that \'Patrick\' had nothing to do with it.



I couldn\'t dwell on that for too long before I felt my shaft be engulfed by his wet, hot cavern; my toes curl and my back arches as I feel the heat build up in the pit of my stomach. But no, I won\'t come yet, that would ruin the whole thing. But his mouth is absolute sin. Fuck, it\'s amazing.



Sooner than I would have liked his mouth left my flesh and he sat up, his eyes looking into my own, hesitance shining in the emerald pools.



"What?" I ask, slightly exasperated that he stopped just so he could stare at me.



"I..." he blushes slightly, and I reach up to tuck some stray dark locks behind a pierced ear. "Should I be on top, or...?"



"Whatever you\'re comfortable with," I say, not caring if he wanted to fuck me in the mattress or vice versa. The fact that he was even in a bed, naked with me and doing such naughty things was enough to fuel my fantasies until I became a wrinkly old man unable to get it up anymore.



"What about you?" He asks, and I\'m flattered that he cares.



"Personally, I don\'t have a preference. But for your first time perhaps you should be on top," I suggest. "That way you\'ll be prepared for when you want to bottom; you\'ll know what to expect." My logic was slightly skewed but it made sense to me, and apparently him as well. He nods and I reachover to the nightstand to open the drawer and grab a tube of lube, handing it to him and giving him a small, trusting smile.



"Right," he says, taking the tube and popping it open. He slicks two fingers and looks back into my eyes - my heart skips a beat - and he then settles between my legs as he presses the pad of his index finger against my entrance.



The sensation isn\'t new - I\'m rather adventurous when I masturbate - but knowing that someone else was behind the ministrations was throwing me for a loop. I shudder and whimper a bit, and he pushes his finger in to the first knuckle and out again. He\'s taking his time and being gentle, I know, and I\'m really touched, but right now I feel like if I don\'t have his cock inside of my body I might just come from the thought of it.



Now that would be embarrassing.



He senses my turmoil and pushes his finger in all the way, and I let out a sigh of pleasured relief. That feels wonderful; I reach up and put a hand on his shoulder and tangle the other one in his hair, and give him a nod of approval. He carefully starts to work a second finger in and I wriggle slightly - out of newness and arousal - before I relax. He thrusts them in and out of me a few times before I hiss and feel my prostate teased, and I let out a breathy moan followed by a whimper.



"Mik... ready..."



He blinks up at me, almost surprised that I\'m ready so soon, but he slathers his surprisingly impressive erection with the lube and tosses it aside. Aligning the tip to my entrance he pauses for the briefest of moments, but I don\'t let him have any second thoughts as I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him forward, the head of his dick slipping into my entrance. I let out a shuddery exhale, taking a moment to adjust, before he pushes the rest of the way in of his own volition.



Fuck, this is amazing.



It\'s obvious this is his first time, and I\'m hoping desperately that it\'s not terribly obvious that this is somewhat new to me as well. He pauses once he\'s completely seated within me and we\'re joined for that blissful, beautiful moment where time stands still and our eyes lock onto each other. If I had any thoughts that he might be doing this because of his slight intoxication, those vanish as I stare into his sober, emerald eyes.



Things are slightly blurry, now, as he starts to nibble on my ear as he pulls out a bit and pushes back in slowly. This sweet pace of love making is gentle and passionate, I get wrapped up in it as I start to move my body against his. The temperature in the air around us is rising, I can feel the sweat starting to form on his back and shoulders as he thrusts easily into my body.



"Mikhail..." I pant out, there is no tenor behind my words, just a breathy whisper.



As if moving to an invisible beat, undulating his body against mine and thrusting sweet and slow for a few times and then speeding up occasionally, I start to feel my body tensing up. Ah, but it\'s too soon, I need to enjoy my beautiful boy for longer --



His hand wraps around my dick and that\'s it, I can\'t take it anymore. My back arches and my nails dig into his back as I come, coating his hand and my stomach in a few pearly ribbons. His thrusting falters slightly with the tensing of my body, and he pulls out just in time to let his ejaculate mix with mine. It\'s a beautiful sight, his young dick, glistening from bodily fluids and flushed from the exertion.



It\'s just as beautiful as he is, my gorgeous Adonis.~



"Shit," he curses softly under his breath as he collapses on top of me, and I roll us over to hold him in my arms. He flails slightly, "Ew, cuddling!"



I chuckle and only hold the squirming teen tighter, kissing the top of his head. "Get used to it, I\'m a lonely old man~"



"Yeah you are," he snorts, "going after underage boys like me."



I pout. "You say that as if I were taking advantage of you."



"Maybe you were.~"



As he takes on that playful tone of voice that he picked up from me and uses on rare occasions, I close my eyes and smile as he relaxes in my hold and curls up against my chest.



I think after this I shall never touch another drop of alcohol again.



Not so long as I have my sweet toxic nectarine of a son.



"Dad?"



"Yes?"



"... Can I not call you \'dad\' anymore?"



I laugh and shrug, "Only if you\'re not into that."



"..." He sits up and grins playfully. "Ooooh, daddy~"



.::|::.



A/N: Fuck me running.

Sorry this took so long.

Thanks to all who reviewed. :] Means a lot.

I\'m not lying when I say I have intense A.D.D.

Ciao all.



♥