Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11242512.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Direction_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Harry_Styles/Louis_Tomlinson
  Character:
      Harry_Styles, Louis_Tomlinson
  Additional Tags:
      Drinking, Underage_Drinking, Forced_Drinking, Daddy_Kink, Father/Son
      Incest, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Harry_is_8, louis_is_mid/late_30s,
      Underage_Sex, First_Time_Blow_Jobs, Non-Consensual_Blow_Jobs, First_Time,
      Loss_of_Virginity, Underage_Harry, Older_Louis, Bottom_Harry
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-06-19 Words: 2658
****** Daddy what are you doing? ******
by louislovesharryscock
Summary
     Louis gets drunk after a hard week and his 8-year-old son, Harry,
     walks in on him masturbating. Louis loses his control.
Louis had had a long week. His boss had yelled at him at work for something he
hadn’t done. His bank had fucked up the automatic payment for his internet,
cable, and phone package so he’d been off the grid for a full day before it was
sorted out. During that time, he’d missed a bunch of calls from his sister
about their cousin’s wedding they were supposed to be carpooling to that
weekend, and by the time she got ahold of him, she was furious that he’d been
“ignoring” her calls and texts. Basically, Louis had had an absolute shit week,
and he needed a drink. Potentially the whole fucking bottle.
 
Friday night after getting home from work, he sat down on the couch with his
bottle of whisky. He’d contemplated taking out a glass and being a proper
civilized human being about it but it just wasn’t one of those days. It was
more of a drink-right-out-of-the-bottle kind of day. So, that’s exactly what he
did. He tried to pace himself, he really did. Because he knew that Harry would
be back from his friend’s house soon, and luckily that meant he didn’t have to
make him dinner but he still had to put him to bed. And he couldn’t have his 8
year old son be dropped off by this kid’s mum only to see to his dad passed out
drunk on the couch with football on the telly. He really couldn’t have that.
 
So he took small sips. Just a few at a time, eyes practically glued to the door
waiting for Harry to come home so he could drink fucking faster—he needed to
stop feeling for a bit and this stress about what was supposed to be de-
stressing him was just making everything worse. The thing about Louis and
drinking, though, was that he kind of had to go all or nothing. If he only
drank a little bit he got really rowdy and really horny, but if he drank a lot
he would get subdued and chilled out. The latter was what he was going for
tonight, definitely not the former. But he was in a pickle, because he had to
only drink a little bit right now. So lo and behold, about half an hour in, he
started feeling his cock swell in his pants. Just a bit. He switched to the
food channel, hoping that getting away from watching fit men in shorts running
around all sweaty would help fix part of the problem. It worked for maybe five
minutes. But then he started feeling it again. And that was always the point at
which he started to lose his sense of judgement and just give into the feeling.
What’s another few sips just to push himself along? He’d edged for hours
before, and he’d also unfortunately had a hard on while around his son before
and he didn’t think Harry had even noticed, so it was probably fine. Not ideal,
but it would be fine. He checked his phone, no text from this kid’s mum yet. So
he had some time. He didn’t know how much, but maybe enough.
 
He pulled his cock out of his pants and started stroking somewhat
absentmindedly. He switched back to football, because why not let himself
indulge a bit? The men were hot, and it had been way too long since he’d seen a
Hot Man up close and personal. Watching some on the telly wasn’t a sin after
all—these men were just doing their job. And if Louis enjoyed that while
wanking and tipsy on a Friday night, what did it really matter?
 
Louis always, in the back of his mind, knew better, though. He knew that once
his hand was on his dick, he was not going to be able to act normal until he’d
come. If he didn’t manage to come by the time Harry got home, he’d be acting
weird as fuck around his kid for god knows how long it took to get him to bed.
But at the same time, he wanted to take it slow. He really needed a good,
proper wank and his half-drunk ones were always the best. He knew that he was
setting himself up for failure with this whole situation, but he kept going
anyways. Because he didn’t know how to get himself to stop, because deep down,
he didn’t want to. He kind of liked that element of danger. It made him feel
like he was definitely going to burn in hell for eternity, but sometimes he got
off on the idea of things like that happening. Things like… Harry walking in on
him with his hand on his cock. Or him walking in on Harry masturbating. Maybe
if that happened, they’d have to have an educational conversation about sex.
And maybe Louis would have to do a bit of show and tell, because sex is more of
a hands-on activity, to be honest. And god, he knew it was fucking wrong and
awful and illegal and repulsive. But he couldn’t deny that it made him really
fucking hard. And that more often than not, what got him to come the hardest
was thinking about the idea of coming inside his baby boy’s tight little hole.
Maybe while Harry screamed out in half-pain-half-pleasure. Maybe along the way
Harry called him Daddy.
 
No, no, no no no. He couldn’t go there tonight. It was one thing for it to be a
fantasy in his head. But the fantasy and reality were becoming dangerously
convergent what with Harry potentially coming home any minute. So he took his
hand off his cock, went back to the food channel. And FUCK why do they have a
gorgeous man licking white cake batter of all things off his fingers on this
fucking show?? WHY?? Back to football, then.
 
He hadn’t even noticed that he was stroking his cock again. He wasn’t even
watching the television anymore. Hell, his eyes weren’t even open anymore. He’d
taken a few more sips of the whisky, his head was tilted back, eyes closed in
ecstasy, and he may have been moaning a bit. He didn’t even remember
registering any sounds.
 
Which is exactly why he didn’t hear the text notification from the kid’s mom
that they were outside the house dropping Harry off, or hear the front door
open and close, or hear Harry walk into the room. The only thing that he
actually heard was Harry saying, “Daddy?” because it was suspiciously real for
something that he could’ve sworn was just happening in his head and—FUCK.
 
He snapped his head up and his eyes flew open. Harry was standing a few feet in
front of him, eyes wide and pupils blown.
 
Louis didn’t know what to say. He just stared at his son, hand still fisted
around his red, throbbing cock.
 
“Daddy, what’s—what are you doing?” Harry asked.
 
Louis still didn’t know how to respond. He was suddenly drunker than he’d
thought, most definitely too drunk for whatever was happening. His eyes darted
around the room, searching for something to give him a sign about what to do or
say.
 
And then he found it, but not where he thought he would. Not at all.
 
His eyes had landed on Harry’s crotch, where his tiny cock was making a tent in
his jeans. It wasn’t big, of course, but there was definitely something there.
Well, then. Louis unscrewed the bottle, took a big gulp, and set it back down.
 
“Come over here, Harry.”
 
Harry walked over to his father, eyes still wide and face expressionless.
 
“Good boy. Now I want you to something for daddy now, okay? I want you to start
getting undressed for me. Can you do that?”
 
Harry just nodded. He took off his jacket, and made to go hang it up, but Louis
grabbed his wrist, startling Harry.
 
“No, love, don’t worry about where the clothes go. We’ll deal with them later.
What matters right now is that you’re not wearing any. Throw them on the couch,
on the floor, I don’t fucking care. Just get them off. All of them.”
 
“Daddy, you said a bad word!” Harry gasped.
 
“I’m about to say a lot more bad words if you don’t keep undressing Harry,”
Louis said sternly.
 
Harry looked at his daddy now with fear in his eyes, but he shut up and pulled
his shirt over his head. He then unbuttoned his jeans and shimmied out of them,
wincing lightly at the brush of his dick against the fabric. He stood in front
of Louis with his hands clasped behind his back, staring at the floor.
 
“I said all of your clothes,Harry,” Louis said, reaching out and snapping the
waistband of Harry’s briefs against his hip. “Get these off. Now.”
 
Harry tentatively pulled his underwear past his hips, and as he did his small
cock bobbed free.
 
“There we go,” Louis said, smiling wickedly. “This is what I wanted to see. You
see how yours looks like mine, but smaller? See that, baby? How it’s standing
up? And it feels kinda weird, doesn’t it? Feels like you need to touch it,
right?”
 
“Isn’t touching it wrong, daddy?” Louis’ cock twitched when Harry called him
that. Fuck.
 
“No, baby, it’s not wrong at all. It feels really good, actually. That’s what I
was doing when you came in. Why don’t you try it? Just put your hand around
your willy and start moving your hand up and down it.”
 
Harry grabbed his cock and started stroking it, immediately wincing at the
touch.
 
“It feels weird, daddy,” he said.
 
“That’s okay, Harry, it gets better. I promise. It gets really, really good.
You have to keep going.” He took his own cock back in his hand and started
pumping again. “See, like this.”
 
The two of them jerked themselves off, Louis’ eyes devouring every inch of
Harry’s body, trying to memorize this moment. He didn’t believe this was really
happening. It had to be some kind of sick dream he was having. It had to be.
But if it’s a dream then he can do whatever he wants, right?
 
Right.
 
“You know what else feels really good, Harry? When somebody puts their mouth on
it. I’m gonna show you, okay?”
 
Harry just nodded, and Louis leaned forward and took Harry’s small dick in his
mouth. It fit easily, not even hitting the back of his throat. Louis sucked and
licked, relishing the feeling of Harry shuddering and squirming in front of
him.
 
“It’s too much, daddy, it feels too weird!”
 
Louis just hummed around Harry in response, letting the vibrations do their
work. Harry finally let out a moan, his knees buckling. There we go.
 
Louis popped off, saliva dripping down his chin. He wiped it with the back of
his hand. And then he had another idea. Well, a few ideas.
 
“Harry, why don’t you do the same for daddy, since I was so nice and made you
feel good? Could you do that as a favor to me?”
“But yours is so big, daddy,” Harry replied, eyeing Louis’ cock suspiciously.
 
“You’ll be fine, Harry, you’re a big boy. Come get down on your knees in front
of daddy. I’ll help you.”
 
Harry kneeled in front of Louis, and Louis immediately guided his head towards
his cock.
 
“Just pretend it’s a lolly, Harry.”
 
Harry started suckling at the tip, swirling his tongue around the end.
 
“Go a little deeper.” Louis pushed Harry’s head a bit further down his cock.
Harry gagged in response, but Louis kept his head down. “You can do it, baby,
just breathe through your nose. You’re making daddy feel so good, he’s gonna
reward you so well for this.”
 
So Harry kept sucking Louis’ cock, and Louis kept gradually forcing himself
further and further down Harry’s throat until he hit the back. He thrusted
shallowly a few times before he finally let Harry pull off. He was spluttering
and gasping for air, tears welling in his eyes.
 
“You did so well, love. So good. I said I was gonna reward you, so I will. So
first thing we’re gonna do, is I’m gonna let you have a sip of daddy’s drink.
It’s gonna make the next part so much better for you. Well, for both of us.” He
put the bottle to Harry’s lips and tipped it back. Maybe a bit more than he’d
originally intended, but hell. Harry gagged it down. Maybe Louis tipped the
bottle back one more time just for good measure.
 
“That tasted awful daddy, why’d you give me that?”
 
“I told you, it’ll make the next part so much better. For the next part, I need
you to bend over the couch with your bum in the air.” Louis stood up and let
Harry take his place on the couch.
 
“Now,” Louis said, placing two of his fingers in front of Harry’s mouth, “I
want you to suck on daddy’s fingers for a minute, get them nice and wet.”
 
“Why?”
“Just do it, Harry.”
 
Harry did as he was told, his eyes already starting to get a bit droopy from
the whisky. His body was so small and he had taken the equivalent of at least 2
shots one after the other.
 
After a minute Louis pulled his slick fingers out of Harry’s mouth and brought
them to his hole. Harry jarred at the touch.
 
“Sh, sh, Harry, relax. The more you relax the easier this will be for both of
us.”
 
Louis wiggled one finger slowly into Harry’s hole, stroking his back as he went
to make him stop tensing. He could clench as much as he wanted once Louis was
inside him, but he was getting impatient, and he didn’t want to make Harry
bleed by not prepping him enough. He spent many minutes scissoring Harry open,
until he just couldn’t fucking take it anymore. Harry was a whimpering, tipsy,
sloppy, naked mess on the couch and Louis needed to fuck him already.
 
He finally lined himself up and pushed himself in. Harry screamed out.
 
“Daddy! It hurts!” he cried.
 
“Shh, it’s okay, baby, it’s supposed to hurt the first time. Just stay calm.”
 
“I don’t want this, daddy, please take it out,” Harry cried, tears streaming
down his face.
 
“It’ll be over soon, baby. Just a few minutes.”
 
“No, I want it out now,” Harry sobbed as Louis kept pushing in deeper, now
almost all the way in.
 
“Harry, I said we’re doing this, so we’re doing it. It will be over soon, and
you’ll be fine. Keep crying if it helps you relax, but I’m telling you now, the
more you clench the harder it’s gonna be for you.”
 
Harry’s whole body tensed up once more, and then went limp.
 
“Much better.” Louis was all the way in now, and was beginning to drag out just
to a touch to start moving. He grabbed Harry’s hips, shifting his body around,
searching for his little boy’s prostate. Maybe if Harry got more pleasure out
of this he would quit crying.
 
Harry suddenly gasped loudly. There it was, then.
 
Louis started ramming into Harry’s prostate, gripping his hips tightly as his
son screamed and cried beneath him, trying to push him off. He was nearing his
climax. He pounded harder, harder, harder, until he released with a shout into
his boy.
 
He stayed there a minute, coming down from his high. When he pulled out, his
come dripped out of Harry’s hole, making a mess on the floor. But Louis didn’t
care. He scooped Harry’s now completely limp body up, positioned him longways
on the couch, and threw a blanket over him. He needed to sleep, and so did
Louis, because hopefully, he’d wake up and realize that it was all a dream. At
least that’s what he hoped.
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