AN: I do not own Homestuck or any of its characters or ideas. This is a work of fiction. This deals with Egbertcest (Dad Egbert and John Egbert). Kinks included: Age difference, incest (father/son), foodplay, dominant sub. Please enjoy and R&R!
John wasn't like most children. His father noticed this from a very early age. When John was about two years old, you could set a plate of green beans and a colorful cake next to each other in front of him and he would taste the pretty cake but continue to eat the green beans. It wasn't that John hated sweets, he simply prefered to eat his vegetables beforehand. Dad noticed this and began to wonder if he made bad cakes, which was unlikely because he was a great baker. He made many cakes for friends and family. Birthday parties, weddings, baby showers, retirement parties. You name it. If it needed a cake, Dad Egbert was the one to make it for you. He almost never charged too, because he loved baking.
He loved the smell of a rising cake. He loved lathering the icing on thickly and layering the different flavors and colors. He loved adding designs and building them taller. He loved making cakes and eating cakes, but most importantly, sharing cakes. He wanted nothing more than for the young John Egbert to be proud of his father and his cakes. He noticed that John did, however, favor vanilla cakes most of all. Short and simple with not too much icing. Every year for his birthday he would bake John simple cakes no matter how elaborate he himself wanted them to be. After all, John was his son and any Egbert should feel like they deserved the best. But it was what John wanted so it was what Dad gave him.
By the time he was six, John stopped eating cake whenever Dad put it in front of him. He didn't curl his nose or push it away. He simply looked at his father and raised an eyebrow and would simply leave the table. He didn't seem interested in it. And that hurt Dad. For his eighth birthday, as he continued to try to get John to eat cakes, he sat John down and asked him why he didn't like his fathers cake. To which he replied plainly that it wasn't that he didn't like them. He just didn't want his dad to feel left out. His father realized that every birthday, every holiday and every other instance where he tried to give John cake, he never had any cake himself. He just wanted to share with his father, that was it.
So, as any sane father should, he shared a piece of cake after the birthday party for his son. As they had sat, talking about how great it is in a mans life to finally turn eight, they shared a slice. John mentioned that eight is just an upright infinity sign. He learned that from the kid with the pointy glasses in his class. That's what his brother told him when he turned eight. John told his father he felt like he was going to live forever as long as he stayed eight and his father began to laugh.
As they spoke, laughing and talking and sharing their cake, John had dropped his fork. His father looked in the drawer only to find that they had all been used. That was no good. So he decided he'd just share his with John. After all, they were family. It would be alright. So he would take a bite of cake, then give one to John. John said he liked it better that way because it felt even more like sharing with his daddy when they shared their fork too. And so it became a tradition for the young boy and his father to eat a slice of cake with the same fork after a birthday party or any other time a cake was introduced.
For John's tenth birthday, his father gave him a computer. He was more than ecstatic to find a box with a tower and a monitor resting inside sitting at the foot of his door when he opened it. He was glad he could make his son happy. And again, his father shared a cake that night, feeding him the occasional bite from his fork.
But to his father's dismay, John stopped coming into the kitchen for their cake sharing all together once he turned twelve. He would just take a slice and a fork and say he was too tired to stay in the kitchen, that he wanted to go to his room. His father noticed that by this time, John was on the computer a lot, playing games and surfing the internet. John's father sat alone in the kitchen that night eating his own slice of cake wishing he had the eager-to-share son that once ate and laughed and sat next to him. He was still proud of his son and felt that this was a step to manhood that he was ready to take, but still wanted to share a slice every now and then. For John's thirteenth birthday, something peculiar happened.
As John's father sat his cake in his room, wishing him a happy birthday, he closed the door and went to eat his own slice. As he finished his cake, he went back to his sons room to congratulate him on his teenage years ready to come. But when he stepped towards the door he heard John muttering to himself, whispering something. He peeked through a crack he quietly made in the door to see John licking icing off of one hand and holding himself with the other. He felt like he was violating his sons privacy, quickly looking away but still staying to listen. He was whispering something, what was he whispering? Dad could only make out a small mutter of a "daddy" and a handful of profanities. He quickly made his way back to the living room to sit on the couch. The only things adding up in his mind were that one, John had a feeding fetish, and two, that his son was becoming a man in the wrong direction: towards his father.
He had no idea what to do. It's not that he didn't find his son to be attractive. Any healthy father should think their son is as good looking as themselves. But as he started thinking more and more about the situation at hand, hours later, he decided that it was John's life and he should be able to live it freely. So for the next time John had to eat cake, he decided to take action.
Dad slaved away in the kitchen, making the prettiest cake he could conjure up. It was Dad's birthday this time around and John fiddled with his video games in the living room.
"What do you wanna do for your birthday, dad?" he shouted above the music and sounds of the television. His father smiled to himself as he pulled the fluffy cake from the oven carefully.
"Nothing much, honestly. I figured we could just stay in this year and hang out if you didn't have any plans, John." He let the cake cool down, coming into the living room. "Maybe decorate my cake together and share a slice, like old times." John flinched at his words. He hit it right on the spot, like he knew he would and he sat down next to his son. "Could I play with you?" he said, picking up a controller.
"Uh," John said, staring blankly at the system in front of them. He blinked himself out of his thoughts and paused the game, heading back to the main screen for multiplayer options. "Sure, dad, anything you want," he smiled awkwardly. They sat in the living room, playing a few rounds and finally decided that it was time to decorate the cake. He stood, putting his apron back on and pulling out one he had for his son to wear. They stood in the kitchen, lathering icing on the fluffy cake and talking. John had made a lot of friends the past few years. They talked about school and work and funny things John had seen on the internet. John had gotten icing on his fingers and licked it off, which, as Dad watched, sent shivers down his spine. He noticed what a beautiful young man his son was becoming and it made him feel proud to be his father. And, God, did he love feeling proud. He noticed John's wet nimble fingers exiting his mouth and being wiped on his apron. He looked at his son's radiating blue eyes through his thick rimmed glasses and felt his heart melt. He was actually adorable. And all this time he had no clue of how cute he could be. He never really looked. Not like he should have. And suddenly, a wave of guilt hit him. He hated that feeling significantly more than the feeling of being attracted to your own son. But the guilt didn't change his mind. He was going to go through with his plans.
As they finished, they sat at the island counters, cutting John a slice and setting it on the plate. John picked up the fork and stabbed a piece onto the utensil, going to shove the bite in his mouth, just as his father stopped his wrist. John looked at his dad with a slight confusion. "Just like old times, John," he smiled earnestly. John's face flushed over a light pink as he sat the fork down.
"I can eat my own cake, dad." He smiled fakely and fiddled with his finger nails. He shook his knee nervously, looking down at the vanilla cake in front of him.
"But it's my birthday, John. And I miss those days. You were so little and cute. Now you're all old and wrinkly!" Dad laughed as he ruffled his son's hair. He smiled endearingly as the young boy looked back at him.
"I am not!" he argued back, a smile tapered on his face. He furrowed an eyebrow and stared down at the fork on the plate. He sighed and handed it to his father, who purposely brushed their fingers together as he took it from him.
Dad first, took a bite of the cake, never taking his eyes off of the young boy in front of him. He scooped out another bite as he held the piece out for John to bite off. John made fists as he rested his hands between his legs on the seat. Dad looked down as crumbs hit his bare thighs. He was only wearing a tshirt and boxers, whatever he woke up in. Dad took another bite off of the cake, still making sure to never take his eyes off of the boy. John avoided eye contact, trying his hardest not to let a blush fall on his face again. He opened his mouth reluctantly to take the next bite. More crumbles fell on the pale thighs below. John looked over at his dad who smiled at him as he took another bite of the cake, pretending not to notice how uncomfortable his son was becoming. It was wrong, and Dad knew that, but he couldn't help but love the way his son began to let out a small moan whenever he fed him another bite of cake.
Dad took another bite, making sure to leave a lot more for John to eat every time he pulled a piece off. This next bite was particularly large. Dad made sure for it to fall on John's lap. The room was hot and quiet as John looked up at his father, legs shaking nervously. He reached to pick up the fallen cake. "Leave it," a stern voice whispered. "We can get that later." John looked down, gritting his teeth.
"Dad.." he muttered, voice shaking. Dad smiled, leaning on the table, grabbing another bite for himself. He slowly bit off the cake and swallowed, staring into those pretty blue eyes. He chuckled softly.
"You know," he said, reaching for another bite to give to John. "You didn't always call me 'dad'," he said, reaching for John's mouth. John parted his lips and looked up at his father again. Dad looked at the cake and pulled it away, stealing the bite from John. The young boy whimpered in response.
Dad stood up, adjusting his tie to fit looser. He stabbed into the cake again and looked down at his son, pushing his thumb between the boy's teeth to open his mouth. John's eyes began to water. By now it was clear what his father's intentions were. John had no idea how his father found out about his secret, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to complain or comply. But since it was his father's birthday, and he had been longing for this moment for quite some time now, he decided it was in both of their best interests to comply. He opened his mouth for his father who in turn, smeared cake onto his tongue and around his lips. He closed his mouth and Dad wiped the icing off of the young boys lips. He licked it clean off of his finger and smiled down at the boy.
"Dad.. No more.." John stuttered quietly. He pulled at the bottom of his shirt to cover his growing erection. He was beyond embarrassed and noticed that no matter how hard he tried, the flushed cheeks kept coming back. Dad raised an eyebrow.
"Hmm?" the older man questioned. He rubbed another bite of icing smothered cake along John's lips. The young boy complied again, opening his mouth to reluctantly swallow his sweet fluffy cake. John whimpered audibly as his father simply shuddered at the sounds the young boy was making.
"No more.." he whispered again. He licked off the icing along his lips. "Please," he paused, breathing in a shaky moan. "..Daddy," his voice trembled out. He looked away. Dad dropped the piece of caked down onto the table and leaned down, holding the young boy's head in his hands. He licked the remaining icing off of his lips and shoved his tongue past the shaking set of perfect teeth. The braces tickled as he passed, pressing their tongues together. The sweet taste of cake continued to linger as John moaned nervously into his father's mouth. He held onto the wrists that caressed the back of his neck and jawline. The large hands were so warm against his skin, the black watch a piercing cold.
Dad got on his knees in front of the boy and pulled off his hat. He pulled their lips apart to look into John's eyes to see how he felt. He would never want to do anything his son didn't want, but he'd be lying if he didn't say he wanted John, badly. John's eyes were riddled with lust and passion as he felt dads hands creep up his thighs. His father bent down to lick off the fallen cake and crumbles from his thighs. John moaned out in response, gripping the peppered head of hair. He was trembling at his fathers touch let alone his tongue. Dad lapped up every bit of cake along the boys legs as he licked up further.
The older man stood as he lifted the young boy into his arms to set him back on the table. He pulled up the wrinkled shirt and laid him across the cold marble beneath him. John shivered against the cool sensation but quickly grew used to it. Dad snatched a tube of white icing and squeezed it in a small spiral on John's belly button, causing his breath to hitch. Dad had never seen such a beautiful site, not even in other women. The older man dipped his tongue into the icing and grabbed the young boy's now rock hard member through his plaid boxers. "Daddy..!" he called out, causing the man to groan as he licked up every bit of sugary icing in his son's belly button.
Slowly, he kissed down his belly over the thin, still growing hairs forming above his member. He pulled down the young boys boxers and closed his eyes. He opened them to see John's blue eyes begging for him to do something about his throbbing member. Dad took his son's heated lust into his hands and began to pump slowly, agonizingly, as John writhed in his hands, moaning out, calling for more. The man squeezed a dollop of icing on top of the boys pink head and licked it up without hardly touching the skin at all with his tongue. There was nothing John wanted more than to shove his father's head down but he hardly ever went against his word. John simply moaned even more lust filled moans as he pet the back of his father's head.
"Daddy, plea.. please..." the young boy muttered, tugging at the hair between his fingers. Dad smiled and opened his mouth, taking in the hard muscle that begged for his attention. John called out for his father again, moaning louder and more and more seductively as the man bobbed his head. And just as John was about to finish, the man pulled himself off and stood next to the table. "Da..daddy..?" John muttered through broken moans. He blinked, adjusting his glasses. Dad began to undo his tie, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and down to his pants. John watched as his father pulled his pants off and opened his shirt, careful not to take off his tie or the white cotton button down. He began to stroke his own member, squeezing a thick layer of icing along the underside of his throbbing erection. He put his hat back on as he held his member up by the tip with one tempting finger and John crawled across the table to take it in like a good little boy on his daddy's birthday.
John stuck his tongue out and lapped in along the base of the musky member in front of him. It was his turn to tease his dad. John hated being teased but at the same time, it gave him a reason to do the same to his father. He took the thick member in his hands, holding it up by the sides as he slowly licked up the icing, twirling his tongue along the slit to spread the beading precum around, occasionally looking up at his father over his glasses. He purposely allowed icing to get on his cheeks and his lips as he licked up and down the large member in his hand. John was at the least surprised of his father's length and girth and wanted nothing more to be ravished by it.
John had honestly wanted this more than anything in the world for the longest time. He loved his father and wanted to make him proud but hated that he could think only of his father whenever he became aroused. So seeing his father bending at his will, especially with cake in his play, made John more than happy. John's father looked down and gritted his teeth, gripping the back of the boy's head. John blinked, looking up at his father as he opened his mouth to lick at the tip, swirling the forming precum and icing together. Dad groaned in response to the boys pleasurable movements and pushed his head down further. John took his father's member in his mouth and began to bob his head up and down, slightly turning as he moved slowly. Agonizingly slowly.
Dad felt the young boy moan into his member as he moved, noting the way his pale skin contrasted with his raven hair, the way his long eyelashes fluttered and how cutely his glasses suited him. The moment John's eyes batted up to meet his again, and his small mouth curled cutely around his thick member, his father couldn't take it anymore. He pushed John's head away and crawled on top of the counter with him. He wrapped the boy's legs around his own, pushing his back against the marble again, pulling his hips up to meet his own. He spit on his fingers and lathered his son's entrance, pushing in a finger to feel him.
John's moans were more than enough to let his father know that he was no stranger to having something shoved inside of himself. He began stretching and tugging at the lining, aiming the tip in, pushing gently into the smaller boy. John moaned loudly as his father shoved all the way in, breath beating rapidly as he gripped the collar of his father's shirt to pull him over himself. Dad leaned over his son and reached for the plate of cake they had been eating and scooped some with one of his fingers. John quickly began licking it off of his fathers fingers and moaning into them, sending shivers down the grown man's spine. He began thrusting in and out of the boy, taking in the sight of his lust filled eyes.
His father's thrusts began to grow less patterned and more sloppy, filled with passion and heat. He continued to shovel small bits of the sweet vanilla cake into the young boy's mouth as he fucked him on the kitchen counter. The boy begged for more, the man complying.
"Please, daddy," he called out. "Fuck me harder," his moans managed to mutter through. Dad pulled at the hair he could manage to get, and gripped his son's member as he pounded into him.
"Such strong words for such a young man," his father managed through broken grunts. He shoved in harder and harder, finding John's sweet spot. The boy threw his head back and moaned loudly.
"Fuck, daddy, right there!" he called out, wrapping his arms around his father's neck. Dad began to purposely hit that spot repeatedly until his son broke in his arms and came in his hands. John trembled, throwing his head back, holding his breath, breathing in a shaky moan. He finally let out a rasped call, a drawn out, "Daddy!" and a couple of pumps of his thick seed. His father lifted his head and shoved in all the way, pushing his load out into his son. He groaned out in response and felt John's legs fall to his side.
Slowly, he pulled out, standing off of the table and leaning over John. He kissed his belly as it rose and fell, John trying to catch his breath. As Dad let out a drawn out sigh, he lifted his son from the table and carried him to the couch in the living room. He brushed at John's hair and kissed his forehead. John sighed, finally catching his breath and looked at his father.
"Happy birthday, daddy," he said, smiling softly. Dad kissed the young boy, crawling onto the opposite end of the couch to turn on the TV. He ruffled John's hair and smiled.
"Thanks, kid," he said, flipping through channels. He didn't know what this meant for them but it had to be one of the best birthdays he had ever gotten. He smiled as he noticed the young boy beginning to drift away in his sleep, deciding to get a blanket from the closet and their underwear from the kitchen. He pulled John's boxers over his waist and put his own back on. The blanket fell over both of them as John slept peacefully and Dad spent his birthday as the happiest father in the world.
AN: This was kind of self indulgent. Thanks for reading. Please R&R! There will probably be a chapter 2.