Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears
Rating: M - Explicit
Warnings: Underage sex, statutory rape, bad touch, bad language, daddy kink.
A/N: I felt like writing a smutty story about Matt having sex with Mello's dad. Don't judge me.
Yes, of course
I remember, how could I forget?
How you feel?
And though you were my first time
A new feel
It won't ever get old, not in my soul
Not in my spirit, keep it alive
Thinkin' Ahead by Bastille
He's not sure how it starts really, nor why and when. But he does know where it starts. He's fifteen at the time, visiting his mom for the summer. It's nice to be out of LA for once, nice to be out of the state of California for the first time since his parents' divorce.
His mom's happy to see him too, even if she doesn't smile as the dusty landscape of Nevada rolls past the car's windows. She has the radio on, nails tapping the steering wheel as she hums along and Matt joins in, singing out loud when he reaches a verse he knows.
His mom rents a 2 bedroom house in Paradise City, driving to her job as a casino worker in Vegas each night. The night that Matt arrives is no exception. He barely has time to drop his bags and change into a clean outfit before they're back out the door and on the road.
They're three miles into the ten mile drive by the time his mom speaks the first time since she had called his name in the airport. "So..." She taps her fingers on the steering wheel in a quick rhythm. "How have things been with your father?"
It's a painful question for both of them, and Matt smiles in reassurance at the uncertainty in his mom's voice. "Fine, he works most of the time so I hang out at Mello's a lot"
"Good. I'd rather have you there than home alone." She pauses and lets out a long whoosh of air. "I've gotten better, ya know."
"I know." Matt replies, and he does. Knows how hard it was for her to give up her addiction, even as she lost her child. Knows that it must have been hell being alone as she weaned herself off of the drugs she'd come to rely on every day. She's hasn't completely changed from the quiet, almost apathetic, woman she was before but at least she's no longer depressed. Well not as far as he can tell.
"The arcade, buffet, pool and club are open to you." She tells him as she pulls into the casino parking lot, the millions of city lights illuminating the night around them. "You can't drink any alcohol, so don't even try, and don't go into any of the private rooms. Most of the other employees know you're here tonight so just find one of them if anything happens."
Her tone and gaze are serious, hand cupping his jaw softly as she look at him but he can see the I love you in her eyes.
"I will, promise." He tells her and she slips a little pass card on a lanyard over his neck and gets out the car.
"Meet me here at midnight, okay?" She calls as she jogs toward the employee locker room and he waves goodbye.
...
The club is packed already, music blasting, lights sweeping the room in a myriad of colors. Matt's dizzy for a moment as he makes his way through the pack of bodies to the bar. A girl with blue hair smiles, shouts something and slips a pair of goggles over his eyes. The lights are instantly muted, orange covering everything like molasses and he smiles his thanks. The bar is less crowded, the night young enough not to warrant too much alcohol and he orders a glass of cranberry juice. If there's one thing that he's learned from his mother's addiction, it's that cranberry juice lessens the effects of drugs on one's body and he's not taking any chances.
"If you don't dance soon, I think he's going to drag you on the floor." The bartender shouts over the music, dipping his head toward a man a few seats down from Matt. When the redhead looks over his heart nearly stops, because, holy fuck, that's Mello's dad.
"You think?" Matt shouts back, even as he internally freaks out, because Mello's douche-bag of a dad is here. And currently giving him the most intense sex eyes he's ever experienced beyond the screen of a porno. Maybe it's the goggles, or the fact that that Matt's hair is at least three inches shorter than it was the last time Dara Kheel had actually seen him or Mello. He wasn't exactly the best dad and Matt had been at the Kheel house through enough of Mello's parents' fights and his dad's subsequent departures to know that.
"Go dance with him." The bartender tells him with a little nudge and something in the back of Matt's mind starts to plot. Dara smiles when he comes over, hands going seemingly automatically to his waist as he leans against him and Matt smiles back.
"Finally get tired of drinking alone?" Mello's dad asks and Matt shudders at the fingers running over the exposed skin above the hem of his pants. It's light and teasing, sending a coil of something through him as Dara moves them toward the dance floor.
"Finally get tired of sitting alone?" He questions back and Dara laughs, voices rumbling along Matt's spine like a series of mini earthquakes.
"Touche, Little Red." Dara says and plants a kiss on his shoulder. It reminds Matt of the times that he'd kissed his scraped knees before putting the bandaids on when he'd gotten hurt while playing with Mello. The thought snaps him out of it a little, makes him question whether what he's doing is really right, but then that kiss turns into a bite and his thoughts scatter.
He groans, hands flying up to tangle in hair the same shade of blonde as Mello's, as Dara's fingers span over his stomach in a way that makes him suck in a vertigo-inducing gulp of air. Dara hums against his skin, grinding their bodies together to the music. The fact that he can feel just how turned on Dara is through two layers of jeans makes him whimper in the back of his throat, makes him feel a bit light headed. Those deft fingers leave his stomach and travel up his sides as they dance and Matt's own hands slip down to Dara's neck as the older man leans to bite at his shoulder once more.
"Any plans for the night, Little Red?" He asks and it takes a bit for Matt's mind to process the question. The air's thrumming around his head and for a moment he just looks into the crowd around them before shaking his head no. Dara rumbles approvingly against his neck and Matt wonders if he'll have a hickey (or three) before the night is done.
"Then how about we take this somewhere a little more private?" Dara offers and Matt's alarm bells start ringing, even if this is Mello's dad. (Mello's dad who is currently dipping his fingers below his waistband in the most distracting way imaginable.) He stills for a moment and Dara follows his lead, even as the other clubbers dance on. "It doesn't have to be to a hotel room, if that's what's got you scared. The club provides rooms."
And, okay sue him, but that has Matt relaxing again, although he was kidding himself thinking he had the self control to stop this. Whatever this is. Dara smiles over his shoulder, eyes dark and smoldering in a look that's pure sex. "Sure," And because that sounds a little too childish and eager, he adds. "If you think you can handle me."
That has Dara laughing again and Matt's stomach drops into a molten puddle of heat as the older man pulls him toward a side room, doorway covered by a thick curtain. The room is predominantly occupied by a bed covered in silk sheets and Matt flops back onto it as Dara turns the lock on the door.
When he turns around Matt is stretched out on the bed, shirt riding high on his hips. Dara climbs over him and pulls it all the way off as Matt arches his back and god Matt has never felt so hot.
Taking Matt by the wrists he fists his hands into the pillows above their heads and rolls his hips down. Matt's legs fall open to accommodate him and Dara bites into his shoulder again.
"Oh fuck." Matt gasps and Dara chuckles.
"Not yet." He tells him and Matt bucks up impatiently because now that they've gotten started he never wants this to stop. "Soon though."
It's with that promise that he trails down Matt's body, teeth and nails grazing his skin as Matt keeps his own hands tucked up over his head. He somehow knows that moving them would be bad and that sends a rush of heat straight to his groin, makes him want to move them just to see what his punishment will be. Dara looks up at him, grey (not blue, thank god) eyes sharp as he seems to catch on to what Matt is thinking. He doesn't say anything though, just keeps going down until he's hovering over Matt's jean clad groin. Matt takes an infuriating second to wonder why he's still wearing jeans, then rolls his hips up again. Dara catches them mid-roll, holds them in place as he mouths at Matt's dick through the fabric and
"Jesus fucking Christ," He hisses. "Don't stop."
Dara doesn't respond, simply moves one of his arms so that it's cradling Matt's waist by itself, the other hand reaching up to undo Matt's belt. It's the tug of the belt through his loops that has Matt nearly dizzy with anticipation and he knows that Dara knows it because he tugs extra hard on the last loop, Matt's waist jerking to the side as he gives a teasing bite through his jeans. The tightness of his pants is maddening and he almost sobs when Dara leans up to undo his jeans and tug them down his legs along with his underwear.
In reality, he lets out a high needy sound that makes him sound like a kicked puppy as Dara licks a long stripe up the underside of his dick. Hands flying to Dara's hair, he tugs and spreads his legs a little more.
"If you didn't look so beautiful right now I'd punish you for that." He tells him, voice dark and deep as his lips brush the head of Matt's cock. He doesn't take Matt into his mouth though, not like he wants him to, but goes further down until his breaths are puffing against Matt's hole. It's when his tongue glides over his entrance that Matt flies to pieces, shuddering and gasping as Dara licks into him.
His hair brushes against Matt's balls, blonde against the feathering of red that Matt has down there, and it makes Matt want to weep. Propping himself up a little more, Dara leaves his ass to instead lick at the cum on the redhead's stomach and if that isn't the filthiest thing Matt's ever seen he's kidding himself.
Dara moans a little, like Matt tastes good, and slides back up his body, all leonine muscles and strength, to pull him into a kiss. It tastes weird, and when Matt realizes why, he wants nothing more than to crawl inside himself and die. Dara growls into the kiss, the denim of his jeans rough against Matt's sensitive cock as his tongue fucks into his mouth in swift strokes.
They kiss until Matt's lightheaded and Dara pulls back a little, hand reaching into his pocket. There's a sound like ripping foil and a slick finger circles his rim before peeking in. Dara does this a few more times, never fully breaching him, finger sometimes curling to hook at his rim and it's so damn good. When he finally does enter him, his finger goes to the third knuckle, sits there for a moment before sliding back out. It's uncomfortable at first, something he isn't used to, but it's the second finger that stretches him into an ache. Dara strokes him on the inside, twirls his fingers a little to help with the stretch before scissoring them in preparation for the third.
They're both impatient by then, Matt's dick once again standing at attention and god he know's Dara must be beyond ready. The third finger is a welcome burn, something that makes him want to grind down onto Dara's hand until he cums. Dara doesn't let him though, just stretches him wide, gets him ready. If this is what prep feels like, Matt thinks he might die when it comes to the actual fucking.
He feels empty when Dara's fingers finally leave him, and he watches as the older man unbuttons and unzips his jeans, not even bothering to pull them off as he shoves the hem of his underwear under his balls and palms lube onto his dick. They both groan at that, Matt's hands scrambling into the sheets as he fights the urge to pull the man into his body already.
He takes a moment when Dara lines himself up to start to worry but then he's sliding into him, wide and slow, until he's halfway there. It's too much and not nearly enough at the same time and Matt might just cry at how perfect Dara feels.
"That's right baby," Dara breathes into his ear, hips rolling as he inches deeper into Matt's body and Matt makes a noise halfway between a whine and a sob. "So fucking tight. I'd almost believe you were a virgin if it wasn't for the fact that you're such a cock slut." Dara tells him and Matt's heart stops, then starts beating double time. It's when he opens his mouth to speak that Dara bottoms out with a hard jerk of his hips and Matt cries out, clenching tight around him as he tries to keep him there, get him deeper, make that delicious full feeling stay.
Dara moans, mumbles somethings like a prayer, and pulls out a little in order to push back in. They start out like that, shallow and quick, until Matt adjusts. Then the rhythm changes, goes deeper, fuller, stretches him in the best way. His legs wrap around Dara's waist, heels digging into the hollows at the base of the older man's back as he thrusts into his body.
"Don't stop, don't stop, don't you dare- fuuuuckk." Matt whines the last word out as he bucks up and Dara grins. Next thing he knows, they're being flipped and, fuck, that's deep. Matt folds himself on his knees, sits on Dara's dick with a roll of his hips and moans. Dara doesn't say a word, just wipes at a tear Matt hadn't even realized he'd shed and thrust up into him, hands on Matt's waist. It's deep and probably the goddamn best thing Matt's ever felt, each thrust feeling like it's hitting him in the ribs, punching the air from his lungs until he's panting.
One of his hands comes up to stroke his dick as the other presses into Dara's shoulder and it's quick after that. Dara fucks him through his second orgasm, praises falling from his lips as Matt shivers and whines. When Matt's done, fucked raw and trembling, Dara pulls out, places Matt on his knees and pushes back in. Matt's arms almost buckle but then Dara smacks his ass and Matt bites his lip to keep from crying out again. He holds Matt's hips and fucks into him, chin on his shoulder as he whispers in his ear.
"That's it, milk daddy dry." He tells him and if Matt could, he would have come again at just how wrong and filthy that sounded. Instead he just clamps down tight around Dara and the older man stutters to a stop with a drawn out 'fuck'.
Pulling out, he plants a kiss to Matt's damp hair, then to his neck and shoulder, before flopping to the bed. He doesn't hold Matt, but that's okay, it's too hot anyway.
...
When Matt wakes up Dara is gone and his phone is ringing somewhere inside the room. Crawling around on the bed with limbs as week as a baby deer's he finds his phone in his pants and answers the call before it can go to voice mail.
"Hello?" He says and his voice sounds well and truly fucked.
"Matt, where are you? I've been waiting for you by the car for thirty minutes." His mom almost shouts and Matt bites back a curse. Wincing at the ache and slickness in his ass, he pulls on his underwear and jeans before rooting around for a shirt.
"Sorry, sorry, I'm coming. Just got a little lost in the building." He tells her as he tugs his boots back on.
"Okay. Just hurry up. It's the parking lot outside the back entrance." She says and she sounds tired. It makes Mat feel guilty as he jogs toward the lot. His mom is waiting for him in the car, radio on as the engine idles. He slides into the seat, wiggles a little, and settles.
It's not until they're back at his mom's and he's heading toward the bathroom that he receives the text:
'Call me whenever you want to go again, Little Red.'
And if he gets hard while cleaning Dara's cum out of his ass, then no one has to know.
Alright so that's the end of that bit. First smut that I've written in like a year and it's between a fifteen year old Matt and Mello's dad. Whooh. I might make a sequel or another chapter depending on how you guys like this one.
So leave a review!
Other than that, take care.