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Chapter Forty-Two

Finn

Now

Hank’s right shoulder blade was the best pillow in the world. It just had to be. Without comparison. It was so broad, with thick muscles that flexed whenever Hank moved beneath him, above him, inside him. Just perfect for resting your head on. But it was soft, too, the downy coat of fur reminding Finn of what it would be like to go into hibernation with a bear. Fuck, after the emotional limbo of the past few weeks, he wanted to hibernate with Hank. Sleep for days without end, only interrupted by intermittent fucking and small breaks for food and water. Hank could feed him. He could be Daddy Bear and Finn, well, he would just be Lazy Bear or some horny version of Goldilocks. Goldicock.

“Why are you laughing?” Hank’s smooth bass vibrated underneath his right ear, sending aftershocks through his entire body. His hole clenched and unclenched a few times of its own accord, as if the small muscle reacted instinctively to the sound of Hank’s voice. Finn couldn’t hide the shiver of pure bliss that ran through him at the sensation of Hank’s cum trickling out of his hole, trailing down his taint. Fuck, he was so well and thoroughly fucked.

“Why don’t people hibernate?” he yawned against the small birthmark right between Hank’s shoulder blades.

“What now?” Hank chuckled, his massive frame rumbling beneath Finn.

“Nothing.” Finn kissed the two syllables into Hank’s skin, the saltiness exploding on his lips, then his tongue.

“I almost forgot what it’s like,” Hank murmured as he turned onto his back, his huge left upper arm somehow, so effortlessly, sweeping Finn with him, maneuvering him onto his chest and stomach. Automatically, Finn’s fingers dove into the coarse salt and pepper fur covering Hank’s chest, his blunt nails scraping against Hank’s skin, pulling barely audible grunts and growls from his lover’s lips. His lover.

“What?” Finn rubbed his semi against Hank’s thigh, the short hairs on his thighs creating just the right amount of friction against his sensitive cockhead to keep him suspended in that place between subtle pleasure and full-blown climax.

“To lose yourself in someone,” Hank spoke against his temple, sucking Finn’s skin into his mouth.

“What does it feel like?” Finn whimpered, squirming under Hank’s ministrations. His ass cheeks still burned from before, and it had taken everything for Finn not to jump out of bed immediately after and run into the en suite bathroom to take in Hank’s artistry. Whatever, the imprints of Hank’s palm would still be there later for Finn to admire, and he certainly would be reminded once they sat down to have dinner with his family. Hank’s spankings were just the gift that kept on giving. When he pulled on his jeans, the rough material felt like sandpaper against his blazing thighs and ass. Whenever he moved, bent, or sat down, he would be reminded of the extent of Hank’s love for him and the best thing about it was that it was their secret. Whenever Finn would wince in his seat, Hank would flush adorably, perhaps growl a little, and Finn’s mom would look at him, a curious frown between her brows. Cara would smirk at Finn, who in return would just shrug and ask her to pass the cranberry sauce.

“It feels like…” Hank breathed against his skin, “like you no longer know where you end, and the other person begins.” It still caught him by surprise when he heard Hank speak like this. So… naked and vulnerable. In such thoughtful and profound phrases. Because it did feel like that. It was basically the only way you could describe how it felt.

“It sounds frightening,” Finn spoke, and he realized it was probably going to become a thing now. That he would more often than not be frank with Hank about how he felt. About how certain things made him feel. He’d never revealed these parts of himself to anyone before, but with Hank, it happened all on its own, beyond his control. All his doubts and fears. Hopes and dreams, too. Wants and needs. It all spilled from him with the absolute certainty that Hank would catch him, accept him, and love him.

“It is,” Hank hummed into his hair. “Very. But it’s also wondrous.”

“In which way?”

“I don’t know, kid.” He felt Hank shrug beneath him.

“Please, Hank. Try to explain it to me.” Finn looked up, resting his chin on Hank’s chest. And as always, a deep sigh blew from Hank’s lips, and he indulged him.

“It’s like, in losin’ yourself, you also discover new parts about yourself. Like you get to meet this entirely different version of yourself. Or at least, it feels that way. I don’t know if it makes sense…” Hank trailed off, squeezing Finn tighter against him.

“Is that how it was with Eugene?”

“In some ways, yes. Yeah, I guess it was like that in many ways,” Hank nodded. “Never thought it could happen twice in a lifetime, but I guess someone upstairs must like me.” There was a bittersweet edge to Hank’s voice, and Finn recognized its origin by now. It was the remnants of Hank’s grief mixed with his newfound happiness with Finn. He heard it in his own voice from time to time, too, when past pain collided and merged with his current joy.

“I’ve only ever felt that way with you, Hank,” he confessed. “You’re my knight in a mustard-yellow truck, Daddy.”

“Am I now?” Hank rumbled and Finn recognized the warning edge to his voice that always surfaced whenever Finn would call him Daddy .

“You are,” Finn sighed. “Still can’t believe you came for me. It’s like it was taken out of one of my mom’s fucking romance novels.” It had been. Fucking epic. The grand gesture of all grand gestures. For him . For Finn.

“Nah, I don’t know about that…” Hank chuckled. “Heck, I’m still waitin’ for you to wake up and take a good look at me and what ya gettin’ into. Once you get those glasses cleaned, ya might wanna reconsider your offer of comin’ back with me.”

“Even if you hadn’t come, I was always gonna come back to you, Hank. I’ll always come back to you.” A shadow swept across Hank’s face as Finn’s words seemed to settle inside him. Exhaling, a tremble burst from Hank’s lips.

“I know I’m not good with words, Finn. I never really was one to talk to people about my feelings and such. I guess it has a lot to do with how I was brought up. But Eugene taught me to talk about things in life that ain’t always straightforward or easy to explain.” He paused briefly, his wistful eyes coasting across Finn’s face. “I guess in many ways I’m afraid.”

“Afraid?” Finn whispered.

“Yes. To open up to someone—to you —like that again. It just… it just hurt so damn much when I lost him. I don’t know if I could bear losing you, Finn.”

“You won’t lose me.”

“I could.” Hank seemed to contemplate something, his eyes glowing with a golden green. “But I’m gonna try to be better. For you, Finn. I don’t want to be this weird old guy who doesn’t tell people how I feel about them. How I feel about you , Finn. That I love you. That every breath is easier now that you’ve come into my life. That I’m startin’ to see glimpses of myself again. The man I used to be. But I need to work on that. I know I do.”

“But you show me every day, Hank. If not in words, then all the little things that you do for me. The way you touch me. The way you hold me. Even the way you fuck me, Hank. They’re all there. The words.”

“They are?” Hank rasped, a wet sheen covering his eyes.

“Of course they are. You and I, Hank, we have our own language. I see you, and you see me. No shame. No guilt.” Finn paused, clasping Hank’s cheeks in his hands, their gazes connecting. His voice was unwavering as he spoke the last part. “No regrets, Hank. Never. That’s why, even if you disappear into that head of yours, I’ll always come find you.”

“I know, baby boy. I’ll always come find you, too.” Hank leaned in and claimed his mouth, sucking both his lips into his mouth at the same time, thrusting his fat tongue halfway down his throat. And holy fuck, wasn’t that just the best feeling ever to be tongue fucked by your Daddy while the glorious baby boy still rang through your head?

Licking around inside his mouth, Hank’s hand came down hard on his ass, grabbing the left globe, squeezing around the bruised skin. And then suddenly, it was like being in free fall all over again, waiting for that moment when Hank would catch him—because he knew he would. Turning him around in his arms, Hank pinned him against him with his left arm, Finn’s back flush against Hank’s chest. His head lolled back and forth against Hank’s shoulder like a rag doll as Hank roughly grabbed underneath his right thigh with his other hand, pulling Finn’s leg as close to his chest as it would go.

He hadn’t realized that Hank had grown hard again, but it was probably a result of Finn’s admission that he would always come back to him. In one lazy thrust, Hank slid into his hole, a deep moan accompanying his slide. It was an easy, effortless glide, Finn’s hole still lubricated with Hank’s cum, his hole so loose and well-fucked from before that Hank could just take him any way he wanted him. Rough, hard, slow. It didn’t matter. He belonged to Hank now. He was his for Hank to do with whatever he wanted.

“And your family?” Hank gritted as he pounded into him, his warm breath hitting Finn’s neck in small puffs. “How’s my boy gonna do so far away from his family?”

“It’s not that far, Dad—dy,” Finn stuttered.

“1,373,” Hank spat, drilling each number into Finn, hitting that spot just right again and again.

“1… 3… 73?” he whimpered, Hank’s merciless slide in and out of him making him breathless.

“Yes,” Hank growled. “1,373 miles between my boy and his family.” Then he was pushed against the mattress, Hank never leaving him, his fat, pulsing cock still lodged deep inside him. Flat on his stomach, Hank was so deep that he could feel him everywhere, his entire body catering to Hank’s every need. “Touch yourself,” Hank gritted against his neck. “Be a good boy and touch yourself for Daddy.” And when Hank said stuff like that, when he really got into it, forgetting everything else, all bets were off. It would spur something to life inside Finn, that magic good boy turning him into someone different, unafraid, and uninhibited. He wore that good boy like a fucking superhero badge, his one mission—his only mission—to please his Daddy. To make his Daddy come his brains out. To make Daddy happy.

“Like this, Daddy?” he begged, wrapping his hand around his cock, stroking it lazily at first.

“Harder,” Hank growled. “Daddy needs you to come before I fill you up.” Fuuuck, when he recalled how quiet Hank had been the first couple of times they’d fucked. It was magnificent, Hank getting so into the role, Finn’s heart just about to burst with pride. Pride over himself that he could make Hank go crazy and lose his shit like this. But mostly proud of Hank for finally taking what he wanted from life, claiming this little intimate part of the universe just for him.

“That’s it,” Hank cooed. “You work that little boy cock for Daddy, and I’ll work your little hole.” Fuuuck.

“I will, Daddy,” he whined, beating his cock furiously against his fist. Hank’s hand dove into his hair, his massive palm pinning his head against the pillow, his hips snapping back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, as he slammed into Finn.

“Look at you,” Hank groaned, and Finn recognized the edge of Hank’s impending orgasm in his voice. “Such a beautiful boy,” he praised, his other hand flat against the mattress next to Finn’s head, giving him the necessary leverage to keep Finn pinned. “The most beautiful boy in the world.”

“Please, Daddy. I need to come. Please, please, please,” he chanted, his hole clenching uncontrollably around Hank’s cock.

“Hold on, baby,” Hank groaned, digging deep inside Finn, his blunt cockhead rubbing Finn’s little boy button just right.

“That’s it, Daddy. That’s it. Please, Daddyyyy. It hurts so good. It hurts so fucking good. Shit, shit, shit.” Hot cum spilled over his knuckles before Finn realized he was coming. Then came the tears, fat and warm, spilling down his cheeks, disappointment battling with his climax, winning in the end. Sobbing into his pillow, that old familiar feeling of self-loathing threatened to consume him, threatened to tear the floor away underneath him. You messed up. You always mess up. Now he knows it too. It was just a matter of time. He’ll leave you now.

Then he was turned around, cradled against a warm, fuzzy chest, Hank murmuring sweet reassuring nothings into his ear.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” he cried. “I couldn’t wait. I tried. But I couldn’t. It was just so good.”

“Shhh, baby,” Hank breathed against him. “It’s okay, my precious boy. You did so good for Daddy. So so good.”

“But…” he sniffled into Hank’s chest, tears still falling freely, with no end in sight.

“You’re the best boy any Daddy could ever want. The most beautiful boy in the world,” Hank soothed.

“I couldn’t wait, Daddy. It felt so good. It always feels so good with you, Hank.”

“I know, baby. I know. It always feels so good with you, too, Finn. Always.”

“But you didn’t come.”

“Don’t matter. Don’t need to.”

“Hank…”

“Shhh… this time it was all for you, baby.” Hank chuckled softly against his neck. “Probably ain’t good for me to come my brains out all the time anyhow.”

“You sure?”

“Of course, sweet boy.” Fuck, it was his kryptonite whenever Hank called him boy . It spoke to every needy little cell inside him that just wanted to be loved and cared for and cuddled.

“We gotta get down for dinner soon. I know Mom’s been cooking up a storm.”

“You okay now?” Hank brushed at his cheeks.

“Yeah, I’m okay, Hank. Just got a little out of it there. I’m good now.”

“You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?”

“Of course. Pinkie swear.”

“Jesus Christ. C’mon, baby, let’s get in the shower,” Hank slapped his ass cheek, a delicious sting spreading across his abused skin. “Don’t want you oozing sex and cum at the dinner table.”

“Will you carry me?”

“Fuck no!” Hank tipped back his head, laughing. “You want me to break my back?”

“Please… I’m all fucked up.”

“Jesus… c’mon, I’ll let you suck that load outta me in the shower if you behave yourself.”

“Reeeaaally?”

“Really. Now get goin’ already.” Hank pushed at him, shaking his head.

“Well, color me lucky. Daddy’s cum for an appetizer. Someone upstairs sure must love me.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda hard not to. C’mon, baby. Give me your hand.”

Groaning, Finn reached out his hand, his fingers connecting with Hank’s. Pulling him from the bed, Hank drew him tightly against his wide chest, humming contentedly into Finn’s messed-up hair. Slowly, Finn’s fingers found the paper-thin skin of his inner arm, his thumb and index finger pinching the delicate skin, pulling a small hiss from his lips. While the pain dulled, Hank chuckled against his forehead.

“Are you pinching yourself, baby?” Sniffing against the softness of Hank’s chest hair, Finn nodded, his eyes stinging.

“Just checking,” he whispered.

“It’s real, kid,” Hank murmured, squeezing him impossibly tight, until there was only Hank and nothing else. “It’s real, baby.”

“It’s real,” Finn repeated the words against Hank’s heart. “We’re real, Hank,” he added. His words were met by the loveliest sound in the world. A sound he would never grow tired of as long as he lived. A sound he would never take for granted. The sound of Hank’s carefree laughter filling the room and the thump, thump, thump of his heart with its eternal promise of it’s real .

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