Happy Belated Birthday the_flic!
Title - Paternal Love, and then Some
Author - softly_sweetly
Beta - potion_lady
Rating - NC17
Word Count - ~1,000
Characters/Pairings - Harry/Al
Warnings/Kinks - Incest, Dub-Con, Cross!Gen (Al is 16, Harry is 40),
Disclaimer - I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story. All characters depicted in sexual situations herein are above the age of consent.
Summary - He loved his son too much to stop now.
Author's Notes - Told using the prompt Sleepy/Unconscious from my kink_bingo claim card, which can be found here.
Happy Belated Birthday, the_flic! Sorry this is so late! ♥
Slowly Harry tipped more of the whisky into the glass of milk, stirring it thoroughly and adding in some cinnamon to hide the taste. Al had always been a bad sleeper, ever since he was a baby, and Harry had often used a nip of whisky to get Al down for the night.
Of course, tonight he'd added more than a nip. But tonight he planned to do something more than just cuddle Al until he fell asleep and then take his son to bed.
For too long now Harry had felt things for his son that he shouldn't. He'd watched Al grow into a beautiful young man, and Harry wanted him. At first he'd fought, thrashed against his desires in the hopes of destroying them, in the hopes of loving Al only as much as he loved Lily and James. But Harry had lost this war, ceded control to the desire to touch Al, to possess him and keep him as Harry's and Harry's alone.
What made it worse was that Harry knew Al was attached to him more than was healthy for a teenage boy. A case in point; Al had come down tonight and cuddled up next to Harry on the sofa, head on Harry's shoulder as he begged Harry to read aloud to him. When Al's arm had slipped loosely around Harry's waist, Harry's last strand of control had been snapped. He had to have Al. And though Harry didn't think Al would refuse his advances - hell, if he was right in his conclusions Al was flirting with him sometimes - he needed a safety net this first time, needed the reassurance that Al wouldn't tell anyone, that he hadn't read his son wrong.
Walking back into the living room, Harry sat back down on the sofa and put his arm around Al, passing Al the glass of warm milk. Al didn't take it though, his eyes locked on Harry's as he pressed his lips to the rim. Harry tipped the glass gently, trying not to let his arousal show on his face. How could his son act like this and yet only view him as a father, nothing else? It didn't make sense.
Putting the empty glass down on the side, Harry picked up his book and resumed reading, keeping his voice at a low, even tempo to lull Al to sleep all the quicker. That, and the warm milk and whisky, soon had Al asleep, pressed tightly against Harry's body.
Harry put the book down carefully, picking up his wand and casting privacy spells. Setting the wand back down, Harry slowly moved his hand to Al's pyjamas, pulling the drawstring bow open and loosening the waist gently. Al slept topless, and Harry couldn't help but stare at Al's soft pink nipples and the way they jutted out from his hairless chest.
That made him feel bad; his son didn't even have body chest hair, how could Harry be thinking of him in a sexual sense? But it was too late now to stop, and Harry's worries were soothed by the light smattering of hair on Al's stomach. As he pushed Al's pyjama bottoms down the hair increased, creating a black nest of springy curls around the base of Al's prick.
Biting his lip, almost afraid to breathe, Harry pushed Al's pyjama bottoms down, reaching his hand in and closing his fingers around Al's dick. As soon as he touched Al's skin, a jolt of arousal shot along Harry's spine, powerful enough to make him whimper. Sod what anyone else thought, this felt right.
Pulling Al's dick out of his pyjamas, Harry stroked it softly, reverentially. Al's body, already saturated with hormones due to his age, reacted immediately, his cock filling out and stiffening. Harry just watched, helping the process along with soft strokes, his heart caught in his throat. He wanted to taste Al, to take Al's cock into his mouth and pleasure Al. He wanted Al to be awake when he did it.
But that was for another night. Harry curled his fingers into a loose circle, stroking up and down Al's shaft with his right hand as his left arm held Al close to his body. Though Al moaned, he didn't wake up. If anything, he nuzzled closer to Harry in his whisky-infused sleep. Harry kept stroking, his entire body tense as he watched Al's cock twitching and leaking clear fluid. He wondered how Al tasted, if it was the same as when Harry licked his own fingers after wanking, sharp and bittersweet, but strangely addictive.
Stroking Al a little harder now, getting brazen as Al slept on, Harry felt his entire body tense up, his hard cock finally releasing into his trousers as Al's body reacted to the prolonged stimulus and Al came. Harry's orgasm was like Felix Felicis, making him feel powerful and invincible as he cuddled Al close. Daring now, Harry ran his finger through the sticky white mess on Al's belly, bringing his finger up to his lips and licking it slowly. Al's seed was the best thing Harry had ever tasted, sweet with the illicit pleasure of the act.
Cleaning Al up with his fingers and his mouth, Harry stroked Al's hair off his forehead and pressed a kiss there. Al murmured, pressing closer to Harry in his sleep. Harry thought he'd got away with it, but then Al's eyes opened slowly. "I love you, Daddy."
Whether Al knew what had happened, or had just woken from Harry shifting to kiss his forehead, Harry didn't know.
He did know that there wasn't a chance in hell of this being a one-off. He loved his son too much to stop now.
Author - softly_sweetly
Beta - potion_lady
Rating - NC17
Word Count - ~1,000
Characters/Pairings - Harry/Al
Warnings/Kinks - Incest, Dub-Con, Cross!Gen (Al is 16, Harry is 40),
Disclaimer - I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story. All characters depicted in sexual situations herein are above the age of consent.
Summary - He loved his son too much to stop now.
Author's Notes - Told using the prompt Sleepy/Unconscious from my kink_bingo claim card, which can be found here.
Happy Belated Birthday, the_flic! Sorry this is so late! ♥
Slowly Harry tipped more of the whisky into the glass of milk, stirring it thoroughly and adding in some cinnamon to hide the taste. Al had always been a bad sleeper, ever since he was a baby, and Harry had often used a nip of whisky to get Al down for the night.
Of course, tonight he'd added more than a nip. But tonight he planned to do something more than just cuddle Al until he fell asleep and then take his son to bed.
For too long now Harry had felt things for his son that he shouldn't. He'd watched Al grow into a beautiful young man, and Harry wanted him. At first he'd fought, thrashed against his desires in the hopes of destroying them, in the hopes of loving Al only as much as he loved Lily and James. But Harry had lost this war, ceded control to the desire to touch Al, to possess him and keep him as Harry's and Harry's alone.
What made it worse was that Harry knew Al was attached to him more than was healthy for a teenage boy. A case in point; Al had come down tonight and cuddled up next to Harry on the sofa, head on Harry's shoulder as he begged Harry to read aloud to him. When Al's arm had slipped loosely around Harry's waist, Harry's last strand of control had been snapped. He had to have Al. And though Harry didn't think Al would refuse his advances - hell, if he was right in his conclusions Al was flirting with him sometimes - he needed a safety net this first time, needed the reassurance that Al wouldn't tell anyone, that he hadn't read his son wrong.
Walking back into the living room, Harry sat back down on the sofa and put his arm around Al, passing Al the glass of warm milk. Al didn't take it though, his eyes locked on Harry's as he pressed his lips to the rim. Harry tipped the glass gently, trying not to let his arousal show on his face. How could his son act like this and yet only view him as a father, nothing else? It didn't make sense.
Putting the empty glass down on the side, Harry picked up his book and resumed reading, keeping his voice at a low, even tempo to lull Al to sleep all the quicker. That, and the warm milk and whisky, soon had Al asleep, pressed tightly against Harry's body.
Harry put the book down carefully, picking up his wand and casting privacy spells. Setting the wand back down, Harry slowly moved his hand to Al's pyjamas, pulling the drawstring bow open and loosening the waist gently. Al slept topless, and Harry couldn't help but stare at Al's soft pink nipples and the way they jutted out from his hairless chest.
That made him feel bad; his son didn't even have body chest hair, how could Harry be thinking of him in a sexual sense? But it was too late now to stop, and Harry's worries were soothed by the light smattering of hair on Al's stomach. As he pushed Al's pyjama bottoms down the hair increased, creating a black nest of springy curls around the base of Al's prick.
Biting his lip, almost afraid to breathe, Harry pushed Al's pyjama bottoms down, reaching his hand in and closing his fingers around Al's dick. As soon as he touched Al's skin, a jolt of arousal shot along Harry's spine, powerful enough to make him whimper. Sod what anyone else thought, this felt right.
Pulling Al's dick out of his pyjamas, Harry stroked it softly, reverentially. Al's body, already saturated with hormones due to his age, reacted immediately, his cock filling out and stiffening. Harry just watched, helping the process along with soft strokes, his heart caught in his throat. He wanted to taste Al, to take Al's cock into his mouth and pleasure Al. He wanted Al to be awake when he did it.
But that was for another night. Harry curled his fingers into a loose circle, stroking up and down Al's shaft with his right hand as his left arm held Al close to his body. Though Al moaned, he didn't wake up. If anything, he nuzzled closer to Harry in his whisky-infused sleep. Harry kept stroking, his entire body tense as he watched Al's cock twitching and leaking clear fluid. He wondered how Al tasted, if it was the same as when Harry licked his own fingers after wanking, sharp and bittersweet, but strangely addictive.
Stroking Al a little harder now, getting brazen as Al slept on, Harry felt his entire body tense up, his hard cock finally releasing into his trousers as Al's body reacted to the prolonged stimulus and Al came. Harry's orgasm was like Felix Felicis, making him feel powerful and invincible as he cuddled Al close. Daring now, Harry ran his finger through the sticky white mess on Al's belly, bringing his finger up to his lips and licking it slowly. Al's seed was the best thing Harry had ever tasted, sweet with the illicit pleasure of the act.
Cleaning Al up with his fingers and his mouth, Harry stroked Al's hair off his forehead and pressed a kiss there. Al murmured, pressing closer to Harry in his sleep. Harry thought he'd got away with it, but then Al's eyes opened slowly. "I love you, Daddy."
Whether Al knew what had happened, or had just woken from Harry shifting to kiss his forehead, Harry didn't know.
He did know that there wasn't a chance in hell of this being a one-off. He loved his son too much to stop now.