Daddy's Home

I never wanted to be one of "those" millennials. You know, the ones that go to college and get a useless degree and end up moving back in with their parents and continue to act like kids long past the point of being cute anymore.

For most of my teens I lived with my mom and my two sisters. My parents split when I was 14 and I didn't want to move 200 miles away from my school and friends so I stayed in a house full of women while my dad moved to a new job, new town, new life and eventually a new family.

After college I realized that I wasn't getting any bites on jobs in the small town my mom stayed in so I got an apartment near my dad and his new wife and stepson. Pretty soon my savings dried up and I still hadn't gotten a "real" job. I'd been working almost full time hours at a shoe store but I had student loans coming due so I begged my dad to let me stay with him.

I think he was pretty happy that I came to him and not my mom. I hoped he wasn't holding a grudge about my decision to not move with him when they got divorced but he never mentioned it.

It was awkward at first, because I was also moving in with his wife and her son. I'd met them a few times both before and after the wedding (where I was one of Dad's groomsmen) but it was different seeing them every day.

I continued to work about 30 hours a week and promised to give Dad a couple hundred a month towards my food and board. He seemed a little weird about it but I didn't want to mooch.

About a month after I'd moved in, Dad came into my room the day after I got paid.

"Wally-boy, I'm really glad to have you around again. I've missed seeing you and the girls on a regular basis. Your sister Renee said she was looking for jobs around here, and I really hope you plan to stay in town even after you move out."

"I hope to. There are a lot more opportunities here than BFE, even if I'm struggling right now."

"While you're here, I hope you'll spend some time with Daniel. His mom has been having trouble talking to him ever since he started his senior year and now that he's 18 she's worried that he'll shut her out completely. I know you're close with your mom and maybe seeing that a young man can talk to his mom will rub off on him."

"I'll try. I don't think I'm any kind of role model, though. I can't even find a job."

"You have a job, which is more than I can say for a lot of the twenty somethings I see around. Your job shouldn't define you, anyway. I'm more than the owner of auto repair shop. At work I'm a leader and I try to be a friend. At home I'm a husband, a father and stepfather. With my friends I'm the guy with the truck who always helps them move, and the worst bowler with the most enthusiasm. Find your place in this world beyond what it says in your job description. You were so helpful with your mother, a caring older brother to your sisters and I hope you can be the same for Daniel."

I blushed. "OK, Dad. But there is one thing I haven't told you yet. There were multiple reasons I didn't move back with Mom, but there's one you don't know." I took a deep breath. "Dad, I'm gay. Mom nearly had a breakdown when I told her so I didn't want to tell you. She said it was your fault because you left, that it made me gay not having a man around during my teenage years. I told her I was gay long before you left."

Dad winced a little. He grabbed me in a big bear hug.

"Wally, I've known you were gay since you were 11 and wouldn't stop playing that goddamn Cher CD in your room. Oh, and because you couldn't take your eyes off of the neighbor boy when he mowed grass shirtless. I'm sorry you're mom acted that way. You should have told me. I don't care who you sleep with, as long as they make you happy."

I couldn't believe it. All my friends told me my dad would take it even harder than my mom did, that dads always did. But he not only was OK with it, he was happy for me. I let out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding.

"Honestly," Dad continued, "that's one reason I want you to get closer to Daniel. I'm pretty sure he's gay, too. I was showering a few times and I could've sworn Lisa was peeping in on me but when I came out this last time he was the only other person home. I haven't said anything to Lisa because I don't know if she knows but I don't want her to think I'm perving around with her son. I just started locking the bathroom when I shower."

"You should've been doing that anyway."

"Well, sometimes Lisa surprises me and I didn't want that to stop."

I covered my ears. "I don't want to hear this!"

Dad playfully swatted my head and started to walk out.

"Wait, Dad. I have your money."

"I told you I don't need it."

"And I told you I'm not staying here for free."

"Instead of giving me money, work it off by helping your stepbrother. He needs a friend a lot more than I need two hundred dollars."

The next Friday I had a rare weekend evening off. I figured it would be a good time to get Daniel out of the house and get to know him better. What do kids do these days? Pokemon Go? Is that still a thing?

"Hey, Daniel. I was gonna go down to the park for a quick run. Would you want to come along? It's a really nice day."

Daniel gave me a strange look. "My mom put you up to this, didn't she?"

"Nope." It wasn't a lie. Lisa didn't even know Dad had spoken to me.

"I just hate going alone..." (OK, that part was a lie.) "...and you've been cooped up with homework all week. Let's have some fun."

"Can we go to the mall after? I want to check out a game before I order it from Amazon."

"Sure, I'm free all night. My dad and your mom have some work party thing so it'll just be us for dinner. We can eat at the food court if you want."

"'k, lemme find some running shoes."

While he rifled through the pile of shoes and clothes that was supposed to be a closet, I went to put on my own running shoes. I never had time to run as much as I wanted to, and it showed. The freshman fifteen had turned into thirty-odd extra pounds over four years that distributed all over my already soft body. I didn't mind that much since a lot of it went to my butt. But my thighs always rubbed and I was usually embarrassed to take my shirt off. I wasn't huge, but I didn't look like the kinds of guys that get laid all the time.

Maybe it was the fact that Daniel was so lean and trim that had me thinking about my weight again. I knew I was never going to be thin. I was just like my dad in a lot of ways, always carrying a few extra pounds and covered in dark hair. At least the hair on top of my head wasn't thinning like his did at my age. He still had some, but the hairline was severely receding and he had a few grays. Mine was still thick and dark and was my favorite physical feature. When I did hook up with guys, they always ran their hands through it. It had gotten long enough to pull into a small man bun, which I had no plan to do until a guy told me it turned him on so much. I still wasn't sold on it, but not getting it cut saved me fifteen bucks a month.

The sound of Daniel's footsteps in the hall pulled me out of my reverie. I finished tying my Nikes and turned to see he had changed into some real running gear.

He had on a tight Under Armour shirt that showed that he wasn't just lean, but had a pretty well defined chest and abs. His shorts were the same brand, but looser. It was pretty obvious that he was free balling in them. I quickly looked away. I can't imagine how awkward it would be to catch your stepbrother checking out your package. Of course, if Dad was right, Daniel had been checking out his stepdad's package and everything else, but I wasn't sure what really happened there.

I looked down at my freebie tee shirt from some work event and the five dollar basketball shorts I'd gotten at WalMart and felt slightly inadequate. But we were just going for a run, not training for a marathon. If anything, he was overdressed for the occasion.

We walked the few blocks over to the park without saying too much. When we got there, I asked him if he cared if I put in headphones but he was already putting his in. It's pretty hard to carry on a conversation when running anyway, so I didn't mind.

Dad's comment about Cher had reminded me about that Believe album that I had been obsessed with when I was a kid. I had discovered it was on Spotify and made a pretty decent workout soundtrack. So when the late-90s techno beat started I took off.

I call it running, but it's more of a fast walk. I can sprint for a few moments but I can't really run. Daniel, on the other hand, ran like the wind. After less than two laps of my own, he'd already passed me three times. My attempt at increasing speed resulted in a stitch in my side so I decided I was just there to get a little exercise. It wasn't a race. He wasn't winning, I wasn't losing.

"Haha, I'm winning!" I heard him shout over my music as he passed me for the fourth time.

"It's not a race!" I shouted back.

He turned around to stick his tongue out but didn't stop running. Smart move. He immediately stumbled over a random tree branch on the track and tumbled to the ground.

I stifled a laugh and picked up my pace to reach my hand down and help him up. Luckily it appeared the only thing seriously bruised was his ego. Once upright again, I brushed some grass out of his sandy blond hair while he shook dirt off of his clothes. He gave me look and we both burst into laughter.

"Let's take a little break," I offered and pointed to a nearby bench.

We sat and I sighed as I sat down.

"Too much exercise for ya, old man?"

"No, and I'm only 5 years older than you are."

"Sorry, gramps."

I playfully swatted at his head, just like my dad would do to me, but he ducked and I missed.

"Just because I was named Walter after my grandpa doesn't mean I'm an actual grandpa."

"Is that why everybody calls you Wally?"

"Yeah, although it's not much better. I can't believe my parents gave me such an old man name."

"Why don't you go by your middle name? William, isn't it? You could be Will or Bill or Billy."

I wrinkled my nose at the idea of being a "Billy" but he was right. I was an adult, I could start getting people to call me by what I wanted not what my parents wanted.

"Will isn't bad."

"Willy it is."

I replied "sounds good, Danny boy," with a roll of my eyes.

It was his turn to swat at me and I deflected it. I was starting to feel friendlier towards him than I had before. Not really brotherly, but like when you realize one of your friend's brothers isn't just a pest but also an OK kid.

"You finished for the day, or you get back to racing?"

"It was never a race, I'm just working out."

"OK, so what are your goals Willy?"

I ignored his new nickname for me. "I just want to lose a little weight. Or at least not gain anymore. I want to take off my shirt at the beach or the park or even in my own bedroom and have people who are noticing are noticing for good reasons, not pointing at the fat kid."

"First off, you're not the fat kid. You are a man and you are a little overweight but it's kinda cute on you."

Blushing, I waved the compliment off.

"Second, you need to talk to a trainer. That's what I did when I was tired of being the scrawny kid and wanted to bulk up. It costs me most of my allowance but as soon as I turned 18 I realized it was now or never. I don't want to win bodybuilding contests but I want to wow a gu-- person when I take my shirt off. You have a reasonable goal, you should work on it. But you need more knowledge. I'll take you with me next time I go and you can meet him and set up consultation. If you want to, that is. Not trying to pressure you."

"Thanks." I didn't point out that I could tell he nearly said "guy" before he corrected himself. I didn't really know what to do with that bit of confirmation that Dad was probably right about his sexual orientation. Didn't mean he was right about Danny peeking in on him, but if he thought I was "kinda cute" then he would probably think Dad was as well. But he was more than twice his age. What 18-year-old would get the hots for a 40-something?

My mind had wandered while we walked back to the house. I wanted to shower really quickly before we drove to the mall, so I excused myself to the bathroom.

I set a clean outfit on the toilet tank and decided to leave the door unlocked. Maybe I could test Dad's theory out. If Danny was sneaking peeks at Dad, he would probably try to sneak one of me. OK, it's a little vain to assume a possibly gay kid would want to check me out but if I'd had guys showering in my house at his age I probably would've thought about it. I was too much of a wimp to follow through on the thought, though.

Steam filled the room as I opened the shower door and stepped into the hot water. I let the water run over my body and thought about what I would do if I caught my step brother playing peeping Tom.

I was in the shower for maybe two minutes when I heard the sound of the doorknob jostle. Hell, Dad was right. I cleared a line of condensation from the glass doors just wide enough to see out. The doorknob was turning and I saw fingers poking through the barely opened door. Why would he put his hand in through the door instead of looking first?

The image cleared for me. It was just a hand. That hand was holding an iPhone. That fucker was filming my shower! My mind raced. One part of me was disgusted by the invasion of my privacy, especially the danger of that video getting out and being seen. Another part of me was flattered by the attention. I mean, someone thought I was hot enough to not just sneak a peek but record it for later use. It was a gross invasion, but sweet in a weird way.

But a part of me I didn't even know existed was turned on by the whole thing. I looked down to see my dick had gotten hard. I was shocked. I should be outraged, not aroused. The part of me that was aroused began to cloud my judgement. That's the only way I can explain what happened next.

First, I lightly brushed up against the glass shower doors, removing most of the condensation that would cloud Danny's view. Then I pressed my ass against the door, giving him a complete view of my full moon. I rubbed it up and down, which turned me on even more. I made a ninety-degree turn, giving the camera my profile. From the corner of my eye I could see that the phone was still pointed at me. Running my hand up my side, I gently caressed my own nipple. A soft moan escaped from my lips. Taking my cock in my hand, I began to rub my erection.

These feelings I was experiencing were quite familiar but the added knowledge of being filmed gave my ecstasy an added edge. I poured some bath oil on my dick and continued to stroke, hoping I was giving Danny the show of his life. It didn't take long for me to peak and I shuddered as I came. My jizz mingled with the shower water and swirled down the drain. I turned my head to see the door close.

Feeling less clean than when I started the shower, I soaped up quickly and rinsed off even faster. I wondered where Danny would be, how he would be acting when I came out of the bathroom. I left the shower running and dressed quickly. I slipped down the hallway, where I could see Danny's bedroom door was closed. I quietly turned the knob and moved close to the crack to see what was going on in there.

Danny was lying on his bed. His shorts were pulled down and he was staring intently at the screen of his phone while furiously pounding his dick. I never saw someone jerk off that fast before.

I wanted to burst in confront him. Or maybe I wanted to burst in and start helping him jerk off. But really, in my orgasm clouded haze, I wanted to just watch. So I did the latter.

After another 30 seconds of stroking, he set the phone down and slipped a finger between his ass cheeks. He swirled the finger around his pink pucker and panted softly as he pressed it inside. Despite having just cum, I was getting hard again. He fingered himself and continued to stroke, slower and more methodical. He gave a little twist when he got to the head.

I knew if I watched much longer, I was going to want to pull my own dick out. What kind of stepbrother was I? He was just a kid, just 18. Well, that body and the hard, purple headed cock he was stroking wasn't very kid-like.

A grunt startled me out of my guilty musings. Danny had resumed watching his phone and whatever he was watching (I wouldn't flatter myself to assume it was me) sent him over the edge and he shot a healthy load all over his shirt. I realized if he looked up he would catch me so I slipped back into the bathroom.

I turned off the shower, the guilt of wasting water second to the guilt of spying on Danny. Why should I feel guilty? He filmed me without my consent. It was just evening up the score.

The rest of the evening, I tried to act like I didn't know anything. We kept busy shopping at the mall and eating dinner there. When we got home, Danny played video games while I browsed Indeed for job openings. After submitting a resume, I had to fill out one of those stupid "personality tests" where they ask the same question 4 different ways.

I was clicking away on my laptop when Danny surprised me by flopping down on the couch right beside me.

"So, I had a question."

"Not right now, I'm doing a timed test."

"That looks stupid. Wouldn't you rather talk to me?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'd rather talk to Sarah Palin about foreign policy than take this test but if I want to finish applying for this job I have to do it."

"How much longer do you have?"

"Four minutes."

"Okay, I'll wait."

I tapped away, strongly agreeing with statements that contradicted the ones I strongly disagreed with 32 questions ago and hoping I was remembering correctly what I'd already said. Keenly aware that Danny hadn't moved and his very firm thigh was pressed against mine, I wonder what the hell was so important that he needed to ask me.

Finally, the stupid test was completed and I was ready for another waiting game with another job opening that wouldn't call me back. I turned to Danny and his face was so close. I was looking directly into his blue eyes. You don't see a lot of blue eyes and dark hair. The blue looks so much deeper in contrast. You also don't see a lot of guys with dark hair that aren't cover in body hair. I wondered if he shaved his or if he was naturally smooth.

"Can I ask my question now?" Danny voice was smooth and low, surprisingly seductive compared to even 5 minutes before.

"Uh, yeah. Shoot, whatever."

"Are you gay?"

Whoa. Not exactly smooth.

"Yes. Yes, I am. Is that all you wanted to know?" The question came out a little colder than I intended.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's fine. I just wasn't expecting it. What makes you ask?"

"Well, I kinda thought you were and I kinda think I am too." Wow, here he goes. "At least, I think about guys in, um, that way and not girls very often. How do you know?"

"Well, I'm sure there's a Facebook quiz that would tell you," I said with a laugh. "But in reality, you'll know. Just start thinking about what it is that attracts you to someone. If male genitals top the list, then you're definitely gay. But for most people, there's a lot more to attraction to what's in their underwear. I like a lot of different things in a guy and some qualities that both men and women have. But once I actually kissed a guy, I really knew that I wasn't interested in girls the same way. I mean, what things about a guy make you think you're attracted?"

"When I see a guy in a tank top and I can see his armpit hair and thick arms, I just want him to wrap his arms around me. I want to feel his facial hair against my cheek while he kisses me. Even with older guys, just the sight of body hair makes me want to touch it. I can't get that from a girl."