(no subject)
~*Happy Birthday, addie71!*~
How I LOVE the fact that I got to meet you at that moot, get to SEE my lovely-lass in person, and be your friend forever on. Oh, because that's what you are. You will never get away. :D I hope you're being spoiled rotten on your day, lovebug.
Here's some Dad-Dad!C/Zness-spoil now!
*HUG*!
Title: Just Like You: Hot Water
Pairing/Characters: C/Z, Torrin
Rating: Light NC-17
Genre: Fluff, future!fic
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: Casey and Zeke aren't dead, FFS.
“So... any plans after school?”
“Eh, neh.”
Damn. Casey sipped his coffee slowly, watching Torrin put his backpack together. 'That still gives us enough time,' he thought before saying, “Me and your dad might be home early today. My meeting at the college shouldn't take long, and with our vaca coming up, Dad's wanting to get an early start on packing and stuff.”
“Cool. Mike's already packed,” Torrin said of his friend, who was joining them on their trip to New York State. “Can't WAIT 'til school's over.”
'I can,' Casey thought again. It was a guilty thing to think, but it couldn't be helped. Sometimes it was nice, Torrin being at school when Casey wanted a day with Zeke-just Zeke, without telling Torrin they'd taken the day off for a morning and afternoon together, alone. Nevertheless, they'd plan out some fun excitement with their son, who was still into the idea of family vacations. That was something Casey needed to value, and did.
“See ya, Dad... love ya,” Torrin said before snatching an apple from the fruit bowl, throwing his pack on and heading out.
“Love ya too,” Casey called after him. He listened for the footsteps going down the gravel drive until they faded. He waited one more minute then grinned, put his coffee down and rushed upstairs. He found Zeke already up and brushing his teeth in the bathroom. “The brat's gone!”
Zeke chuckled past the minty-bubbles. “Good.”
~*~
It was barely eleven o'clock when the 'Andy's Pools & Spas' truck was pulling out of the drive, leaving behind one of the best purchases the Connor-Tyler family had ever made.
“Ready?”
“OH yea.”
Zeke smiled, flicked the switch and stood straight. “It's fuckin' perfect.”
Casey had to nod in agreement. Why they hadn't gotten themselves a hot tub until now, when it was all they'd talked about and even prepared for, for years now, who knew? But it'd been made real, now. The brick deck they'd made two years before, along with the trellis covered in vines and lined with large potted plants was complete. Casey cooed at the sight of bubbling, gurgling water, already starting to send steam into the air around it. “Gorgeousness,” he said.
“Suits optional, o' course,” Zeke said as he slapped his towel down on the lawn chair.
“Hah! Okay, well-there's a little privacy, but... not enough to keep Mrs. Green from whipping out the binocs.” Casey nodded to the house behind theirs, where the nosiest woman known to mankind lived. She even kept the damned things in the back window.
Zeke smirked then turned on the stereo sitting on the nearby picnic table. Their favorite album from their high school days, Radiohead's OK Computer, started playing. “So we wear 'em in, then take 'em off.”
Zeke was so damned smart. Giggling profusely, Casey went to the tub's edge and slid his legs into the water. The heat made him hiss. “Oh. Oh, I love it,” he said. Zeke smiled even wider and followed Casey in. The moment his lower half was underwater, he reached down, grunting and shimmied then produced the suit he'd put on mere minutes before. It was slapped down upon the wooden seat lining the tub.
“Your turn,” he told Casey.
More than willing, Casey dunked himself in and removed the swim shorts. They joined Zeke's; smiling like the devil, Casey slid over the fiberglass seating to Zeke's side and settled in against him. “God, I love you,” he said. Zeke chuckled as he ran a hand over Casey's bare shoulder.
“Happy anniversary,” he said.
“Mmm...” Casey closed his eyes and thought back to that very day seventeen years before, June tenth; vows, romance, after-party, every good memory and dance. The honeymoon, mostly spent in their room's own personal hot-tub. Like now. Not much had changed, besides his loving Zeke a helluva-lot more than he could've imagined. He turned his face up to his ever-loving man and licked his lower lip. That gave Zeke his invitation to dip down and give Casey a wet, wonderful kiss.
OH yes... not much had changed. They were still twenty-two and twenty-three, eager and as horny as the teenagers they'd never stop being when alone. Sure, they had to be professional, go to their professional jobs, do professional tasks, be professional parents. But in the now, all bets were off. They were still professional, but in a different way; Zeke's tongue was still skilled, sliding around Casey's lips to deepen their kiss. Casey's thumb moved perfectly over Zeke's left nipple-his 'favorite', for whatever reason, eliciting deep, throaty groans from the man. It was here that Casey would feel sorry for all the 'straights' who'd lost this luster-who outright refused to get a little nasty with each other at times. It was an epidemic, it seemed, men and women suddenly shutting down sexually, while Casey couldn't get enough. 'Poor, poor, straight people...' he thought, the urge to giggle at it dying when Zeke reached down between his legs to give Casey's cock a lazy stroking. Casey parted his knees and curled into Zeke tighter. “Yes,” he murmured between kisses. “Yes.”
“Mmhmm,” Zeke hummed as his other hand took Casey's away from his chest to pull down under the water to HIS swollen shaft. “Make it mutual, you selfish boy.”
Casey did indeed giggle now as he slid his fingers around the most impressive cock he could ever wish for. The owner of it had been most generous over the years, giving hard, driving pleasure whenever Casey wanted it. And Casey had wanted it a whole-hella-LOT over the last two decades, with no end to his hunger in sight. The nursing home they'd end up in together would get eyefuls, every day. The kissing stopped, but their lips stayed hovering over each other, brushing together as they panted. Zeke dug his nails in lightly behind Casey's ear, scratching Casey's scalp. Casey hummed and darted his tongue out to tease Zeke's upper lip.
The breath of the morning
I keep forgetting
The smell of the warm summer air
I live in a town
Where you can't smell a thing
You watch your feet
For cracks in the pavement
'Our song,' Casey thought, just as the lazy mood shifted and Zeke pulled Casey into his lap. Casey stopped his cock-worship to slide his arms over Zeke's shoulders and start a fervent, heavy makeout. Still teenagers. Still eager and hungry for each other. Bliss. Zeke's hands slid behind Casey to his ass, clenching his long, strong fingers over the cheeks. He pushed and pulled, making Casey buck slowly against Zeke's body. The urge to turn around and let the man have what he always wanted was immense, though this was pretty tripping-the-light-fantastic. Another distinct difference between them and others their age-the foreplay would last an entire evening. 'Jealous,' Casey thought at nobody in particular.
“--should be pretty fuckin' sweet, there's a lot to--”
Somewhere past Thom Yorke's lovely warbling was another voice, muted and distant. Or what FELT distant. Casey almost disregarded it until the loud exclamation of “Oh SHIT!” rang in the air. He whipped his head around and looked to the walkway leading from the drive. There, standing past the opened fence door was Torrin. Torrin and Mike, specifically, eyes wide and staring directly at them. “The-the--” Casey stammered as he flew from Zeke and stared back.
“What! What, are-what the hell!” Torrin yelled.
“Yea, 'what the hell' is right!” Casey snapped out of his shock to yell.
“Oh my god, so gross!” Torrin cried, turning away and putting his hands in his hair.
Zeke sat up straight. “What are YOU doing home, y-young man??”
“School isn't over for... another two hours!” Casey joined in.
“It's a half-day, end of year exams! What are YOU guys doing, not at work??”
Oh, for fuck's sake... Casey sank lower into the water as Zeke sputtered a moment before exclaiming, “And who are you calling 'gross'? We're your parents, not DEAD!”
“You guys ARE my parents-ew, oh god!” Torrin said. “You're like... forty!”
Casey raised his eyebrows. “Oh, correction, sweetheart, cor-rec-tion. Your father is forty. I'M thirty-nine.”
“Close enough!”
Mike bit his uncomfortable-looking smirk. “Hey... Mr. Connor-Tyler. Mr. Connor-Tyler,” he said.
“Hi, Mike,” Zeke said in a groan, rolling his eyes while pulling Casey back to sit by his side.
“And... the hell, a hot-tub?” Torrin said, turning back around.
“Well. Yea,” Zeke said.
“That's cool and all, but-oh my god, you'd better have clothes on,” Torrin interrupted himself. The pair made embarrassed smiles, offering enough admittance. “GROSS!”
“Oh, shut the hell up,” Casey said, unable to help himself from chuckling.
“I'm not gonna get into that thing 'til it's drained out and bleached! Gross, gross, gross...”
“Wow, drama much, Tee?” Mike said. His shit-eating smirk was reassuring. “MY parents are ten-times worse. THEY do it in the shower almost every morning, think I like that?”
“THANK you, Mike,” Zeke said.
“UGH!” Torrin now stomped off to the back door, shading his eyes with his hand to prevent catching anything else. Mike did the same, seemingly more out of respect for their privacy than acting disgusted. With them gone into the house together, Zeke sighed.
“We're parents, aren't we?”
“S'right, old man.”
Zeke raised his eyebrows. “Yea? Try to find a gray hair, fuckin' dare ya.”
“Shut up, you so have gray hairs,” Casey replied, chortling.
“Do not.”
“Do.”
“Nut uh.”
“Get your suits on, we're coming in!”
Torrin's yell from inside made them look over. “Oh, SURE, act all grossed-out but hop right in, you miserable brat!” Casey yelled back.
“I KNOW I aced those tests, I earned it!” Torrin called. “You have two minutes!”
There was no use. Both hard-ons had shrunk into themselves, anyway. Casey grabbed their suits, handed Zeke his and dressed. “When we get out, we're calling Stokes then getting that kid a flight out,” he said. “She wants to see him anyway. Fuck knows why.”
Zeke chuckled, dressed and grabbed his cigarettes from the bench. “Kid's an idiot. I make forty look good,” he said.
“Yea. You do,” Casey said, snuggling in again. No touching this time around, and if Torrin put up a fuss at their closeness, fuck their vacation, screw flying him out to Ohio, he'd be in an orphanage.
How I LOVE the fact that I got to meet you at that moot, get to SEE my lovely-lass in person, and be your friend forever on. Oh, because that's what you are. You will never get away. :D I hope you're being spoiled rotten on your day, lovebug.
Here's some Dad-Dad!C/Zness-spoil now!
*HUG*!
Title: Just Like You: Hot Water
Pairing/Characters: C/Z, Torrin
Rating: Light NC-17
Genre: Fluff, future!fic
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: Casey and Zeke aren't dead, FFS.
“So... any plans after school?”
“Eh, neh.”
Damn. Casey sipped his coffee slowly, watching Torrin put his backpack together. 'That still gives us enough time,' he thought before saying, “Me and your dad might be home early today. My meeting at the college shouldn't take long, and with our vaca coming up, Dad's wanting to get an early start on packing and stuff.”
“Cool. Mike's already packed,” Torrin said of his friend, who was joining them on their trip to New York State. “Can't WAIT 'til school's over.”
'I can,' Casey thought again. It was a guilty thing to think, but it couldn't be helped. Sometimes it was nice, Torrin being at school when Casey wanted a day with Zeke-just Zeke, without telling Torrin they'd taken the day off for a morning and afternoon together, alone. Nevertheless, they'd plan out some fun excitement with their son, who was still into the idea of family vacations. That was something Casey needed to value, and did.
“See ya, Dad... love ya,” Torrin said before snatching an apple from the fruit bowl, throwing his pack on and heading out.
“Love ya too,” Casey called after him. He listened for the footsteps going down the gravel drive until they faded. He waited one more minute then grinned, put his coffee down and rushed upstairs. He found Zeke already up and brushing his teeth in the bathroom. “The brat's gone!”
Zeke chuckled past the minty-bubbles. “Good.”
~*~
It was barely eleven o'clock when the 'Andy's Pools & Spas' truck was pulling out of the drive, leaving behind one of the best purchases the Connor-Tyler family had ever made.
“Ready?”
“OH yea.”
Zeke smiled, flicked the switch and stood straight. “It's fuckin' perfect.”
Casey had to nod in agreement. Why they hadn't gotten themselves a hot tub until now, when it was all they'd talked about and even prepared for, for years now, who knew? But it'd been made real, now. The brick deck they'd made two years before, along with the trellis covered in vines and lined with large potted plants was complete. Casey cooed at the sight of bubbling, gurgling water, already starting to send steam into the air around it. “Gorgeousness,” he said.
“Suits optional, o' course,” Zeke said as he slapped his towel down on the lawn chair.
“Hah! Okay, well-there's a little privacy, but... not enough to keep Mrs. Green from whipping out the binocs.” Casey nodded to the house behind theirs, where the nosiest woman known to mankind lived. She even kept the damned things in the back window.
Zeke smirked then turned on the stereo sitting on the nearby picnic table. Their favorite album from their high school days, Radiohead's OK Computer, started playing. “So we wear 'em in, then take 'em off.”
Zeke was so damned smart. Giggling profusely, Casey went to the tub's edge and slid his legs into the water. The heat made him hiss. “Oh. Oh, I love it,” he said. Zeke smiled even wider and followed Casey in. The moment his lower half was underwater, he reached down, grunting and shimmied then produced the suit he'd put on mere minutes before. It was slapped down upon the wooden seat lining the tub.
“Your turn,” he told Casey.
More than willing, Casey dunked himself in and removed the swim shorts. They joined Zeke's; smiling like the devil, Casey slid over the fiberglass seating to Zeke's side and settled in against him. “God, I love you,” he said. Zeke chuckled as he ran a hand over Casey's bare shoulder.
“Happy anniversary,” he said.
“Mmm...” Casey closed his eyes and thought back to that very day seventeen years before, June tenth; vows, romance, after-party, every good memory and dance. The honeymoon, mostly spent in their room's own personal hot-tub. Like now. Not much had changed, besides his loving Zeke a helluva-lot more than he could've imagined. He turned his face up to his ever-loving man and licked his lower lip. That gave Zeke his invitation to dip down and give Casey a wet, wonderful kiss.
OH yes... not much had changed. They were still twenty-two and twenty-three, eager and as horny as the teenagers they'd never stop being when alone. Sure, they had to be professional, go to their professional jobs, do professional tasks, be professional parents. But in the now, all bets were off. They were still professional, but in a different way; Zeke's tongue was still skilled, sliding around Casey's lips to deepen their kiss. Casey's thumb moved perfectly over Zeke's left nipple-his 'favorite', for whatever reason, eliciting deep, throaty groans from the man. It was here that Casey would feel sorry for all the 'straights' who'd lost this luster-who outright refused to get a little nasty with each other at times. It was an epidemic, it seemed, men and women suddenly shutting down sexually, while Casey couldn't get enough. 'Poor, poor, straight people...' he thought, the urge to giggle at it dying when Zeke reached down between his legs to give Casey's cock a lazy stroking. Casey parted his knees and curled into Zeke tighter. “Yes,” he murmured between kisses. “Yes.”
“Mmhmm,” Zeke hummed as his other hand took Casey's away from his chest to pull down under the water to HIS swollen shaft. “Make it mutual, you selfish boy.”
Casey did indeed giggle now as he slid his fingers around the most impressive cock he could ever wish for. The owner of it had been most generous over the years, giving hard, driving pleasure whenever Casey wanted it. And Casey had wanted it a whole-hella-LOT over the last two decades, with no end to his hunger in sight. The nursing home they'd end up in together would get eyefuls, every day. The kissing stopped, but their lips stayed hovering over each other, brushing together as they panted. Zeke dug his nails in lightly behind Casey's ear, scratching Casey's scalp. Casey hummed and darted his tongue out to tease Zeke's upper lip.
The breath of the morning
I keep forgetting
The smell of the warm summer air
I live in a town
Where you can't smell a thing
You watch your feet
For cracks in the pavement
'Our song,' Casey thought, just as the lazy mood shifted and Zeke pulled Casey into his lap. Casey stopped his cock-worship to slide his arms over Zeke's shoulders and start a fervent, heavy makeout. Still teenagers. Still eager and hungry for each other. Bliss. Zeke's hands slid behind Casey to his ass, clenching his long, strong fingers over the cheeks. He pushed and pulled, making Casey buck slowly against Zeke's body. The urge to turn around and let the man have what he always wanted was immense, though this was pretty tripping-the-light-fantastic. Another distinct difference between them and others their age-the foreplay would last an entire evening. 'Jealous,' Casey thought at nobody in particular.
“--should be pretty fuckin' sweet, there's a lot to--”
Somewhere past Thom Yorke's lovely warbling was another voice, muted and distant. Or what FELT distant. Casey almost disregarded it until the loud exclamation of “Oh SHIT!” rang in the air. He whipped his head around and looked to the walkway leading from the drive. There, standing past the opened fence door was Torrin. Torrin and Mike, specifically, eyes wide and staring directly at them. “The-the--” Casey stammered as he flew from Zeke and stared back.
“What! What, are-what the hell!” Torrin yelled.
“Yea, 'what the hell' is right!” Casey snapped out of his shock to yell.
“Oh my god, so gross!” Torrin cried, turning away and putting his hands in his hair.
Zeke sat up straight. “What are YOU doing home, y-young man??”
“School isn't over for... another two hours!” Casey joined in.
“It's a half-day, end of year exams! What are YOU guys doing, not at work??”
Oh, for fuck's sake... Casey sank lower into the water as Zeke sputtered a moment before exclaiming, “And who are you calling 'gross'? We're your parents, not DEAD!”
“You guys ARE my parents-ew, oh god!” Torrin said. “You're like... forty!”
Casey raised his eyebrows. “Oh, correction, sweetheart, cor-rec-tion. Your father is forty. I'M thirty-nine.”
“Close enough!”
Mike bit his uncomfortable-looking smirk. “Hey... Mr. Connor-Tyler. Mr. Connor-Tyler,” he said.
“Hi, Mike,” Zeke said in a groan, rolling his eyes while pulling Casey back to sit by his side.
“And... the hell, a hot-tub?” Torrin said, turning back around.
“Well. Yea,” Zeke said.
“That's cool and all, but-oh my god, you'd better have clothes on,” Torrin interrupted himself. The pair made embarrassed smiles, offering enough admittance. “GROSS!”
“Oh, shut the hell up,” Casey said, unable to help himself from chuckling.
“I'm not gonna get into that thing 'til it's drained out and bleached! Gross, gross, gross...”
“Wow, drama much, Tee?” Mike said. His shit-eating smirk was reassuring. “MY parents are ten-times worse. THEY do it in the shower almost every morning, think I like that?”
“THANK you, Mike,” Zeke said.
“UGH!” Torrin now stomped off to the back door, shading his eyes with his hand to prevent catching anything else. Mike did the same, seemingly more out of respect for their privacy than acting disgusted. With them gone into the house together, Zeke sighed.
“We're parents, aren't we?”
“S'right, old man.”
Zeke raised his eyebrows. “Yea? Try to find a gray hair, fuckin' dare ya.”
“Shut up, you so have gray hairs,” Casey replied, chortling.
“Do not.”
“Do.”
“Nut uh.”
“Get your suits on, we're coming in!”
Torrin's yell from inside made them look over. “Oh, SURE, act all grossed-out but hop right in, you miserable brat!” Casey yelled back.
“I KNOW I aced those tests, I earned it!” Torrin called. “You have two minutes!”
There was no use. Both hard-ons had shrunk into themselves, anyway. Casey grabbed their suits, handed Zeke his and dressed. “When we get out, we're calling Stokes then getting that kid a flight out,” he said. “She wants to see him anyway. Fuck knows why.”
Zeke chuckled, dressed and grabbed his cigarettes from the bench. “Kid's an idiot. I make forty look good,” he said.
“Yea. You do,” Casey said, snuggling in again. No touching this time around, and if Torrin put up a fuss at their closeness, fuck their vacation, screw flying him out to Ohio, he'd be in an orphanage.