Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/982625.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Kick-Ass_(2010)
  Relationship:
      Chris_D'Amico/Frank_D'Amico
  Additional Tags:
      Dubious_Consent, Incest, Parent/Child_Incest
  Collections:
      Kink_Bingo_2013_(Round_Six)
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-09-27 Words: 1675
****** Accident ******
by unsettled
Summary
     Yeah, so he's hard, has been hard since his dad started cussing out
     some incompetent because that just sort of happens now and then,
     though there's a lot more now than then, and that's why he didn't
     really want his dad hugging him like this.
Notes
     Written for the "Held Down" spot on my kink bingo card, though that
     kind of got overwhelmed by other stuff. >.>
So it's kind of really an accident, cause god knows this isn't something Chris
ever wanted his dad to find out. Ok, maybe he wanted it a little bit, but not
like this. Not when things have been going pretty good, and he doesn't really
think fast enough to dodge the hug his dad gives him, a teasing one that ends
up with him squished up against his dad's hip, and so he squeaks.
Well, maybe it's more of a moan.
And he's just thinking that maybe his dad didn't hear it or is going to ignore
it and he's going to get away with this when, nope, Frank freezes. Glances down
at Chris with a startled, confused expression, and shift his weight ever so
slightly, so that his hip presses against Chris's dick a little hard, and yeah,
so he's hard, has been hard since his dad started cussing out some incompetent
because that just sort of happens now and then, though there's a lot more now
than then, and that's why he didn't really want his dad hugging him like this
because that's pretty unmistakable and now his dad is looking at hm like that
and he doesn't know what do to.
"What's this then?" his dad asks, in a low tone that implies he knows very well
what this is, he's just giving Chris a chance. Except Chris doesn't know what
it's for, if it's to lie and get away and pretend this never happened, or if
it's to not lie, cause his dad hates it when Chris lies to him, and he'll know
it's a lie, so... so Chris doesn't say anything, just stares back up at his
dad, his mouth open like he's about to say something, heart beating far too
fast, turned on as fuck and quietly freaking the hell out.
Frank's hand moves, grabs the collar of his shirt, bunched up in his fist, and
hauls Chris off him. Chris drops his head, because he doesn't want to see
what's on his dad's face, but he can hear it clear enough in his voice – anger,
disgust. "You fucked up little faggot," Frank says, and maybe, maybe, there's a
little wonderment in there, a little disbelief. Chris can't help shivering,
cause that's what happens when his dad starts cussing, and whimpers a little,
because those words always send a rush straight down to his dick, and he's
fucking dead now, cause there's totally a difference between a pained whimper
and a fuck me already whimper, and his dad's heard enough of both to be able to
tell that Chris's? Yeah that would be the latter.
He should really, really run now.
But Frank shoves him down, face down on the leather couch and then flips him
over, pins down his wrists above his head with one hand, and it hurts a little,
but he's barely thinking about that, not with his dad looming over him like
this, one knee resting on the couch between Chris's, and he doesn't really mean
to spread his legs further apart, one sliding off the couch entirely, but it
happens all the same. "Is this what you want, then?" Frank says, low and
dangerous and Chris is so utterly fucked. Frank moves his leg, closer, closer,
brushes up against the bulge in Chris's pants, and Chris is instantly trying to
grind up against him, groaning and fighting against the hand pinning him down,
and even he's not really sure if wants his hands free so he can run, or so he
can touch his dad the way his mind is begging to, now.
And then Franks shoves his other hand down Chris's pants, wraps his fingers
around Chris's dick and Chris kind of looses it completely for a couple
minutes. He makes some sound, and he thinks maybe he shouted fuck or dad or
maybe he just moaned, but that doesn't really matter cause his dad has his hand
around his dick and is saying things, saying things like "Is this what you
fucking want? You want my hands on your dick, want me jerking you off?" and
"Almost got a man's cock on you now, not a little boy's, think that makes you
ready for this?" and "You're a pervert, Chris, I should beat this outta you,
you sick, filthy little slut," and that, that gets him where everything else
hasn't quite sunk in, and gasps and jerks against Frank and almost, almost says
please before he cuts it off and moans instead.
Which he really shouldn't have done, he knows this, because that's just
ammunition that he shouldn't have given his dad.
Because that's exactly what Frank does. Uses it against him.
"Oh yeah?" he says. "You like that, then? You want to be a filthy slut? Ok, ok
then," and he yanks Chris off the couch, half drags him over to the desk,
stumbling. He sits in his chair, legs spread, and shoves Chris down to his
knees. Let's go of Chris, and he should – he should – but Frank's unzipping his
pants and Chris can't believe what's going on and – "Why don't you put that
smart mouth of yours to use for once," and oh, god, yes, he thinks, before he's
being shoved down, hands tangled in his hair and holding him in place. Not that
Frank really needs to be holding him down, now. Chris opens his mouth and fuck,
he doesn't know what he's doing and his dad's dick is large and stretching out
his mouth, hitting the back of his throat and making him gag, choke, spit
sliding out of his mouth all over the fucking place, and there's tears in his
eyes and he can barely breathe around Frank's cock, and he just wants more. He
moans around his mouthful and Frank makes a startled sound, and "Fuck, fuck
you're good at this, got such a fucking mouth on you," and Chris -
Those words hit him over the head and for a moment he can't even think, and
then the warmth of being praised like that, praised for this, washes over him,
and he jerks his head off Frank's cock to stare up at him, panting and wide
eyed as he comes, untouched, leaving a spreading stain on his jeans. He makes a
sound half like a sob and falls forward, head resting against his dad's thigh
as he gasps for air.
"Jesus Christ, Chris," he hears. "Fucking hell, just look at you." And then
he's being shoved away, pushed back to fall on the floor. He stays there, limp,
sick and scared and ashamed and still fucking turned on. He hears Frank get up,
but he keeps his eyes closed, doesn't want to see. There's a rustle, and the
sound of fabric, close, and then his dad says, close and quiet, "Take your
pants off, Chris."
He does.
As quickly as he can, but it still hurts a bit when he pulls them off cause his
dick is still so sensitive. And then Frank is rolling him over, pushing up his
knees, and what he thinks is about to happen isn't really going to happen,
right? Right? Only now his dad's wiping a hand through the slick mess around
Chris's cock and yeah, he thinks, yeah this is going to happen, and maybe he
freaks out a hell of a lot. Tries to fight for a minute, tries to break free,
only frank is pinning him down like hes nothing at all, all his weight
overwhelming Chris. He slides one wet finger along Chris's ass, and then – and
then Chris is wincing and whimpering and make little movements away and to and
just shivering uncontrollably, because fuck, there's a finger in his ass and it
hurts, it hurts but at the same time it's not enough. He bites his lip and
tries not to think, tries not to do anything at all but relax. And then there's
two fingers and it burns, it really hurts, and Frank is muttering about how
tight he is and he's such a slut and other filth that just falls from his mouth
and Chris wants more.
And then he gets more, because Frank draws his hand through the cooling mess on
Chris's stomach and wraps his hand around his own dick, and then he's pushing
in, and it hurts, and Chris thinks for a moment of trying to get away, but
Frank looms over him and he knows it's not even worth a try, pinned like a bug
down here. He whimpers, then opens his mouth and lets himself go, half
conscious of the "oh fuck, fuck, yes, please, fucking fuck fuck fuck" that he's
muttering, and Frank is answering in kind, "such a good little cocksucker,
should've known you'd have the perfect ass for fucking, might be a filthy
little whore but you're too tight to have ever let anyone do this, yeah" and
Frank is thrusting in short, hard strokes that have Chris's face rubbing
against the carpet, dick hard again and swinging in the air as his body jolts
forward with each stroke.
His dad reaches around, one hand cold and wet on his hip and the other curling
around his dick, pulling at it just as hard and fast as he's fucking Chris, and
Chris feels like he's going to die. "Dad," he whimpers, and Frank shouts out an
incoherent sound and jerks forward into Chris, coming and clawing at his hip,
hand tightening around Chris's dick. Chris rocks back, so close, trying to find
that edge without his dad's hand moving on him, and Frank just rests for a
moment, draped over his back and breathing harshly. Chris whines. "Dad,
please."
Frank jerks away, cock sliding out of Chris with a wet, obscene sound. He hears
the sound of a zipper, then footsteps, and he looks up, half disbelieving. His
dad is standing at the door, disheveled, but decent, not looking at him. "Get
yourself cleaned up," he says, and the door closes behind him.
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