Title: Ready for the Bad Things to Come
Pairing: Arthur/Nathan (no, really)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Did you see the pairing? Dub-con. Nathan is in high school. This is seriously disturbed. Don't read if you have high blood pressure or may be pregnant. I'm serious about this one.
Author's note: This was written for a request by
a_cook1, who was feeling ill yesterday. She wanted Nathan loosing his virginity to Arthur. There was originaly meant to be more plot set-up, involving Angela, and Nathan begging to be allowed to go to boarding school next year, and the words, "Ask your father." But I didn't write those scenes. I wrote porn instead. I feel good about my decision.
Summary: Nathan doesn't know what he's doing, exactly, but he'll be damned if he lets that stop him.
If Nathan can just figure it out, the pain will stop. He believes this absolutely, because Arthur said so.
“Relax,” Arthur snaps, and Nathan tries to obey. It’s instinct. Since childhood he’s wanted to live up to his father’s plans for him, to perform as admirably as the soldiers who’d served under his father in Vietnam. Flawlessly obedient.
Now, as Arthur slides another slick finger into his ass, Nathan finds his body turning traitor, refusing to subordinate itself to orders, unable to relax. If Nathan can’t help the tight clenching of his ass, he’ll show his obedience in other ways. He leans back, feeling the cool sheets against skin that’s already sweaty, and raises his chin to bare his neck and show Arthur he’s not afraid.
Then fingers twist inside him again, and Nathan can’t help the grimace, the gasp of pain. He hopes for a moment that his father hasn’t noticed, but no, nothing escapes Arthur’s attention. He stills. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” Nathan shakes his head frantically. He tries to scoot closer to his father, but Arthur stops him with a hand on his belly.
His eyes are narrowed, and one corner of his mouth is drawn down in an expression Nathan’s seen him direct at an inferior glass of scotch. “Maybe you’re not ready after all.”
“Yes,” Nathan says immediately. His voice doesn’t shake. The spirit of competition gives him strength. “I can do this.”
--
Nathan had thought the fingers were painful, but Arthur’s dick spearing into him is infinitely worse. It feels impossibly huge when the head of it breaches him.
Nathan’s own hard-on is gone entirely. There is nothing to distract him from what’s happening: the smell of sweat and his father’s aftershave, Arthur’s soft grunts as he shoves deeper, his fingertips pressing bruises into the damp skin of Nathan’s hip, a day’s worth of stubble scraping across the naked skin of his shoulder. The lines on the ceiling of Nathan’s room wave and blur, but it isn’t until he blinks and moisture trickles down his cheek that Nathan realizes he’s crying.
Arthur thrusts again, slamming further in. Nathan fists his hands in the sheets, squeezes his eyes closed, and bites his lip. He almost cries out: Stop, please. I was wrong. I can’t do it. Then Arthur stills.
“Are you crying? Jesus, Nathan.” Arthur pulls away, the pain of his going out no less than the pain of his going in. He’s on his feet and heading for the door before Nathan can process what’s happening.
“Dad, no!” He scrambles out of bed, but falters when his feet hit the floor, sending shocks through a body already feeling strangely achy. “Wait.” He manages to stumble over to Arthur and catch his hand before he makes it out of the room. “Don’t go. Don’t--.”
Nathan lowers his voice: Peter is asleep across the hall, and although the kid is probably exhausted-he spent the day at the zoo with his nanny-Nathan doesn’t want to risk waking him.
Arthur waits, looking at him expectantly.
“I can do this,” Nathan says. “Let me try again.”
Arthur nods curtly, and relief floods through Nathan. Arthur returns to the bed, stopping to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt, which is still on. He turns around to face Nathan and reaches into his already-open pants. He gives his hard cock a few firm strokes, never taking his eyes from his son.
Nathan realizes Arthur is waiting for him to make a move, and he feels blood rush to his cheeks. Still, he tosses out a, “How do you want to do this?” that he hopes sounds both confident and accommodating.
Arthur continues to stroke himself. “You haven’t done this before, have you.”
It’s not really a question. There’d been a conversation last week, after Nathan had stayed late at football practice. Nathan was the only freshman on the varsity team, but he’d managed to talk Veronica Cho-a senior, a cheerleader-into letting him walk her home. Then, in the living room of her dad’s apartment, she had let him touch her through her panties.
Arthur had raised an eyebrow at him when he’d been late for dinner. Nathan was sure his hand had smelled like pussy. Later, when Ma had gone upstairs, Arthur had said, “You’re using protection, right?”
Nathan had coolly replied, “I haven’t gotten there. Not yet. But I will.”
Arthur’s sharp voice startles Nathan back to the present. “Nathan. I asked you a question. Are you a virgin?”
His face heats even more, but he nods.
“I can’t hear your head rattle. Say it.”
“I’m a virgin,” Nathan grinds out.
“Well now you won’t be,” Arthur says.
Nathan feels a moment of relief, of gratitude at that, and his cock begins to take a renewed interest in the proceedings. He reminds himself that he wants to be doing this. He wants to make his father happy.
Arthur gets on the bed, propping his back against the headboard. His cock juts straight up from between the folds of his pants. He takes it in hand and looks expectantly at Nathan.
Nathan takes a deep breath. His fumblings with Veronica haven’t prepared him for this. He hates feeling out of his depth, but he’s not going to let his father down. He climbs up onto the bed and arranges himself astride Arthur.
Arthur neither encourages nor directs him, so Nathan braces one hand on his shoulder, raises up, and positions himself over his father’s cock. He has a sudden, wild thought that perhaps it will hurt less if he takes it all at once, like ripping off a bandaid.
Nathan drops down hard. It doesn’t work quite like he expected. His own tight muscles prevent his taking Arthur all at once. Arthur's lodged half-way in, but he feels enormous, too big to possibly fit in all the way. Nathan’s legs are trembling with strain, his breath is coming in ragged gasps, and tears spring to his eyes again. He grits his teeth and bears down, trying to take more.
“No.” Arthur’s voice is a touch unsteady. “Relax. Let your muscles go.”
Like instinct, Nathan tries to obey. He slides down another half inch.
Arthur wraps one hand around Nathan’s hip, and his other clamps down on Nathan’s shoulder. “Breathe in,” he says. Nathan does. “Out.” As Nathan releases the breath, Arthur pushes him down further onto his cock. For a moment, Nathan remembers his father teaching him to swim, in the ocean, on vacation in Nantucket.
“In.” Nathan breathes in. “Out.” Arthur’s strong hands push again, and now Nathan is all the way down, ass flush against his father’s body.
Nathan’s still shaking. He feels unbearably full, and a little lightheaded, but he’s hard again. Painfully hard. And he shouldn’t be. This is just… an exercise. Just to prove to his father that he can obey. He’s not… He shouldn’t like this.
But Arthur looks pleased with him, too. He pulls Nathan up by the hips, and Nathan obeys, raising up on trembling thighs before sliding back down.
Arthur’s lips are parted, and his breath is coming faster now. Nathan has rarely seen his father this unguarded, and a spike of pleasure shoots through him at being allowed this intimacy. He lets his hands drift to his own cock, hard and leaking against his belly. He sets up a rhythm of his own, stroking himself and taking Arthur inside him, trying to breathe, to keep his body relaxed. Each thrust is easier, slicker. Nathan thinks he’s getting the hang of this.
Arthur’s hands drop to Nathan’s thighs and squeeze. As Nathan rides his father, he feels pleasure building, from the fast strokes of his own hand, and from his father’s cock inside him brushing up against a place that makes him shake. He closes his eyes when he comes, not wanting to look at Arthur, not wanting to believe that it took him less than five minutes to get off by being fucked by his father. Moments later he feels Arthur go rigid underneath him. Coming.
Nathan lets himself slide all the way down. His legs are too weak to hold him right now, anyway. Arthur wraps a hand around the back of Nathan’s neck and pulls him forward to rest against his shoulder.
“Good boy,” he says. “Good boy.”
***************
Also, some bonus Arthur/Peter recs:
this one by
47_trek_47 and well,
this one was mine, but they were the first two either of us wrote for this pairing...