This is NOT part of the Puberty series, this is a stand-alone one-shot.
THERE IS SMUT WITHIN
And yes, Henry is 12. Don't like it, don't read it. If you read it and feel like informing me of just how disgusting this/I am, don't bother. I already know I'm a deviant ;)
Also, I do not endorse/support underage sex in real life. This is fiction, it's different. People aren't getting hurt here.
Henry watched his mom leave (flee) the diner, tears in her eyes and body rigid, keeping herself from breaking down in public. He watched as Robin didn't follow (or notice). He watched as Emma didn't follow (but looked like she wanted to). So he went up to Emma and told her he was going after his mom, to see if she was okay.
The walk to the mansion was slow, he wanted to give his mom time to get the worst of it out, knowing that she hated showing weakness in front of him. When he finally got there, he reached for the door, only to find it locked. And of course he doesn't have a key anymore. Stupid curse. Thankfully he knew where the spare was kept, and went around back to retrieve it.
"Mom?" he called as he entered the house, having no desire to startle her and end up roasted by a fireball. She didn't answer, and as he made his way through the downstairs, he realized she wasn't there. "Mom?" he called again as he walked upstairs and toward her bedroom. There was a dim light coming from under the closed door, and he lightly knocked before opening the door and poking his head in. "Mom?"
Regina was curled into a ball on the bed, dressed in her usual satin pajamas. The bedside lamp was on, and she slowly lifted her head to look at him, the light reflecting off the moisture on her cheeks. "Henry," she said, her voice raspy.
"Mom…" Henry slipped into the room and closed the door again behind himself and went to the bed, squeezing himself into the cradle of her body and wrapping his arms around her tightly.
Unfolding herself into a more comfortable, position, Regina clung to her son, stubborn tears still falling from her eyes. "You should be at the party," she said, even as she held him.
"I don't want to be at the party if you're not there. And I didn't think you should be alone."
"Afraid I'll regress to the Evil Queen, dear?" There was a bitterness in Regina's voice, and both the tone and question caused a hurt expression to cross Henry's face.
"No," he said, frowning up at her. "I didn't think you should be alone when you're hurt. It just makes you hurt worse."
Regina sighed and squeezed her son tighter. "Thank you, Henry. I'm sorry for saying that. I know you don't see me as the Evil Queen anymore."
"It's okay," Henry soothed, and began rubbing his hand over her back, like she used to when he was little.
They stayed like that for a long time, absorbing the quiet and letting it become a part of them, the only sounds their soft breathing and gentle rustle of fabric.
When Henry shifted, Regina tilted her head to look down at him, and was completely taken surprise by lips pressing to hers. She froze at the contact, but Henry was unfazed, gently but clumsily moving his mouth over hers. Slowly, hesitantly, Regina relaxed and carefully returned the kiss.
After a long moment, they parted, and Regina looked into Henry's eyes, whispering, "Why did you do that?"
Henry licked his lips quickly and shrugged a little. "I dunno… whenever I was hurt, you'd kiss it better. It always helped."
"Oh, Henry." Regina smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "You can't kiss better a broken heart."
Henry's brow furrowed, and Regina had less than a second's warning as his gaze flicked down to her chest before his mouth pressed to her chest, directly over her heart.
Feeling the swell of soft flesh under his chin, Henry tilted his head down, kissing her again.
Inhaling sharply, Regina shifted, an unwelcome heat racing through her. As she acknowledged her own wayward arousal, she felt Henry press his hips forward and felt the growing hardness against her thigh. "Henry," she croaked, then cleared her throat and pressed gently at his shoulders.
With his arms tight around her, he didn't budge as she tried to push him back. "I just wanna make you feel better, Mom," Henry mumbled from where he'd rested his head between her breasts. Looking up at her with big, worried eyes, "That's not bad."
She was about to protest that yes, this is very bad, but he leaned up again, pressing their lips together in a second kiss. Something inside her fractured and broke, and she realized that the heart-aching loneliness wasn't quite as piercing as it had been before he'd arrived. So she relaxed slightly, and let him kiss her, not quite participating, but not stopping him, either.
Henry took her relaxation as invitation, and slid his hands under her loose pajama top as he kissed her, his hands moving eagerly over soft skin. One hand slid from her back to her stomach, then upward, grazing her naked breast.
Regina inhaled a shuddering breath against Henry's mouth, and the hesitant touch grew bolder, Henry's fingers splaying wide over her breast, and her nipple hardened against his palm. Her conscience beat at her even as her back arched slightly into the clumsy touch. She knew this needed to stop, that it had gone much too far already, but at the same time… her son was loving her. All she'd ever wanted was to be loved, and even if she had never expected it to be like this, she couldn't bring herself to put an end to it.
When Henry slipped his hands out from under her shirt, she actually let out a small whimper at the loss, even as she told herself it was for the best. That thought flew out of her head as his hands both moved to her chest, carefully pulling open the buttons of her top. Once it was open, Henry moved both hands to her breasts, squeezing his fingers and rubbing his palms over them.
It was a clumsy, awkward touch, but the stimulation of her nipples was enough to make her shiver. Henry's eyes flicked back to hers, and he grinned eagerly before pressing his shoulder into her, clearly trying to nudge her onto her back.
Heat that felt like equal parts shame and arousal coiled low in her stomach, and she rolled onto her back, Henry immediately clamoring on top of her. His legs fell around hers, straddling her left thigh, his erection pressing into her hip.
His mouth moved over her skin, his hands groping at her breasts again, lips following suit. She gasped sharply and jerked when he caught her nipple with his tongue, and he froze, looking up at her.
"Is… Should I stop?" he asked in a small voice.
Regina's teeth worried her lower lip, confliction tearing into her."I…I don't know. Henry…I'm your mother, this isn't…" All thoughts flew out of her head as Henry leaned forward again, latching his mouth around her nipple. The wild thought that her son had always been a quick learner nearly made her laugh. She moaned instead.
Henry's hips ground harder against her, and his lips parted as he panted over her breast before letting out a small cry, his body shuddering against her.
Eyes widening, Regina reflexively brought her hands up, running them soothingly over her son's back. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" she asked softly.
Henry looked up at her with dreamy eyes. "Yeah," he sighed, giving her a goofy grin.
Regina couldn't help a small chuckle, and she tilted her head up to press a quick kiss to Henry's lips.
If she'd entertained any thoughts of this being over, she was quickly proved wrong as Henry scrambled off of her and pulled at the waistband of her pajamas. Eyes widening, Regina lifted her hips automatically, letting the boy pull the pants down, leaving her clad in silky panties and her wide-open shirt. His gaze roamed over her body, and he shucked his own clothing, evidently having no qualms about being naked (and still aroused, gods).
When he moved to tug at her panties, she brought her hand down over his, shaking her head when he looked up at her. As far gone as she was, she wasn't ready, they weren't ready.
Instead of pulling the underwear down, Henry moved his hand between his mother's thighs, eager fingers rubbing against wet silk.
Moaning, Regina let her hips arch, twitching, into Henry's touch. Encouraged, he moved to kneel between her legs, replacing his hand with his hips, grinding against her.
"Oh," Regina sighed, the hard ridge of her son's erection moving against her clit through the soaked fabric of her panties.
Henry pressed his face between Regina's breasts, panting hotly against her skin as his hips moved wildly against her. "Mom," he whined, drawing the word out. "I need…" he trailed off, not quite knowing what he needed. He'd jerked off before, knew what it was like to have an orgasm (had, in fact, just had one) but something in him was telling him, with building frustration, that he needed more.
Regina's brow furrowed in sympathy, and she pressed her hands to Henry's hips, stilling his movements. "Come here, baby," she murmured, guiding him upward to straddle her waist. Her gaze moved down between his legs, taking in the hardness jutting upward and the wisps of hair just starting to grow in. Gently, she wrapped her fingers around him, the width of her palm covering his entire erection. As she began to pump her hand, she watched as his tip slid out from the tunnel of her hand with each stroke down, and she smoothed her thumb over it each time.
After only a few strokes, Henry was shuddering again, choking out, "Mom…!" and then collapsing on top of her.
Surprised at the lack of wetness on her hand, it took a moment to realize that Henry hadn't even reached the stage of puberty that he was ejaculating, and guilt hit her hard. Once the exhausted boy was soothed to sleep, Regina slipped out of the bed, hurrying to the shower and turning the water up to near-scalding, hoping to burn away the sensation of her son's touch.
It didn't work, and she found herself leaning back against the wall, one hand between her thighs, frantically working her clit. After only moments, she was coming hard, her free hand forming a fist and slamming back against the wall as she ground out, "Fuck!"
Finishing in the shower, and hating herself, Regina slowly redressed in new pajamas and fresh underwear. She carefully climbed into her bed, watching her son sleep peacefully and wishing she'd been stronger for her little boy.