As Kevin crept up the steps to the back porch and unlocked the door, he did his best to be quiet. But his efforts were half-hearted; it was a struggle to focus on anything in particular. His mind was whirling with the night's events, from his argument with Betty to the angry stranger in the car, and he was seized by the urge to actually go out for a run, try to outrace with deluge of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. A lump was rising in his throat from his anger, his fear, his frustration, but Kevin swallowed, determined push it away. But he could feel the swell of tears in his eyes even as he fought to hold them back.
He was tired. He was tired of feeling lonely, tired of feeling he had no one to confide it—though he'd been right about that, if his earlier exchange with Betty was anything to go by. Though he was far from a saint himself— he cringed at the memory of the harsh words he'd shouted at her in the heat of anger.
Truthfully, Kevin didn't want to be home. What he really wanted was to be getting laid at Fox Forest, but then when he'd been at the forest earlier, all he'd thought about was going home. He was already struggling with the guilt over continually lying to his dad about where he was going. But combined Betty's fear for his safety, an echo the unspoken worries and what-ifs that flashed through his mind every time he so much as thought of the forest, both his conscience and his survival instincts had been nagging at him to go some place else, some place safe. Anywhere but the place where two of his classmates had just been shot.
But he kept going back, even though he was hyperaware of the risks. Yes, the encounters were rushed and the contact insubstantial and fleeting, and each time he knew he was putting himself in danger, but to him, it was all worth in order to be able to fool himself into thinking for a few moments that someone actually wanted him.
It was selfish, he knew, to look at someone else's happiness and feel nothing but jealousy that he didn't have what they had. But every time he caught sight of Archie with Veronica or Jughead with Betty and saw how they looked at each other, how much they clearly loved each other, he couldn't help the burst of poisonous resentment that simmered inside of him.
He just wanted to be with someone who wanted to be with him. That was all. And yet, it was beyond his grasp.
Stepping into the darkened kitchen and turning to close the door, Kevin again tried to force back the tears burning in his eyes. Just as he thought the battle was already lost, a low, gravelly voice cut across the dark and still kitchen.
"It's late."
For a moment, Kevin froze in place, dread curling in the pit of his stomach as he realized that his father sat at the kitchen table, his motionless figure not immediately noticeable in the dim light.
"Hi, Dad," Kevin said, his voice scraping in his throat.
"Where you been?" his dad asked, and Kevin was too worn out to try to detect his mood from his tone.
His mind raced, but in the end, Kevin wasn't able to find a decent explanation. "Betty had this . . . thing," he managed, inwardly cringing at how utterly false the excuse sounded.
"Don't lie to me, boy." The anger in his dad's voice was unmistakable, but then it changed to defeat. "Betty was here earlier, looking for you. We had a talk about what you've been doing."
Dismay and exasperation shot through Kevin. His dad was never supposed to find out of his late-night ventures. Kevin had wanted to spare him the pain, the worry, and frankly, the embarrassment. It was pathetic that he had to resort to Fox Forest, but he didn't have any other options. He'd tried to explain that to Betty, not his out of control emotions had taken over and prevented him from succeeding.
And he couldn't handle another argument tonight. He just couldn't.
"Well, if you've already talked with her, can I just go to my room?" Kevin didn't mean for his tone to sound as confrontational as it did, but between his weariness and frustration, more than a touch of annoyance slipped into his voice.
His father's face grew stormy, and he rose from the table. "Is that the way it's gonna be from now on? You defy me, and then come home past curfew only to give me lip?"
No. Nothing was going the way Kevin would have liked, but at this point, he didn't know how to get back on the right track. This was all such a mess—everything was a mess—and anything he did to try to help himself feel better just make it all worse.
His father stalked toward him, but Kevin turned partway away, unable to stand either meeting his father's gaze or feeling its weight resting upon him. He was even more dangerously close to tears than before, and he had a horrible suspicion that one more angry exchange would leave him sobbing.
"Look at me," his dad commanded, coming up beside him and laying a hand on his shoulder. "Kevin, look at me."
Kevin refused, instead remaining still beyond protectively folding his arms across his chest. He was trembling and felt that he might break apart at any moment. So many of his secrets had come to light in the space of a single evening, and his life, which he had already thought he was losing control of, was now careening out of control at a more rapid rate than ever before.
This was too much. His shields were being stripped away, leaving him exposed and desires that he'd been careful never to share were now being dragged up to the surface for everyone to see.
At his continued silence, his father removed his hand from his shoulder and stepped back from him. While Kevin should have been grateful that he was being left alone as he asked, instead his heart sank to his shoes as he realized that not even his dad wanted to bother with him.
Couldn't keep a boyfriend, couldn't keep a best friend, couldn't keep from failing his father. He was just a disappointment in a whole host of ways, wasn't he?
"I'm giving you one last chance," his father told him, his voice very soft. "Dammit, Kevin, can't we just talk?" There was more than a hint of desperation in his voice, and shame burned through Kevin at the thought of putting it there.
In his embarrassment and self-reprimand, his control slipped again. He didn't mean for the words to leave his mouth in a sneer, but they did anyway, his frustrations boiling over, leading him to lash out at the wrong person. "In the grand scheme of things, talking is pretty useless."
His father's mouth set in a grim line. "Maybe it is."
Before Kevin could react, his father grabbed one of his arms and wrenched it behind his back, snapping a handcuff around his wrist and then doing the same to the other without hesitation. By the time Kevin opened his mouth to protest, he was being dragged into the living room and over to the couch. In an instant, his father was sitting down and Kevin had been pulled down across his knees.
"What are you doing?" Kevin exclaimed in alarm
He attempted to push himself back up, but his father dug an elbow into the middle of his back, holding him down.
"You said yourself you didn't want to talk." His father yanked his shorts down from his waist to the middle of his thighs, leading Kevin to freeze in disbelief, fear suddenly coursing through him. "If that's the case, I don't see why we should waste any time discussing your punishment instead of just getting on with it."
Wrenching open his mouth, Kevin was about to reply when a sharp, solid slap landed on his ass, leading him to let out a cry of pain and surprise and automatically buck back.
Embarrassment flooding through him, he again struggled to rise, but his father firmly kept him in place, delivering smack after stinging smack, not hesitating to hit the same precise spot again and again.
Kevin gasped and jolted with each swat and frantically tried to squirm loose, but to no avail. His father's hold was tight, refusing to yield, and neither did his blows, which continued to fall steadily onto his ass.
"The more you try to get out of this, the longer it will go on," his father warned him darkly. "You disobeyed me, and now you have to pay the price."
With that, he increased the force and speed of his smacks, each slap burning Kevin's backside like fire. Desperately, Kevin tried to pull away, feeling afraid of his father for the first time he could remember, but it was hopeless. His father held him fast, and it was clear that he wasn't going to let him go anytime soon. Smack after smack mercilessly seared across his skin, and the tears that he'd valiantly forced back were welling in his eyes once more.
"Dad, come on," Kevin begged, feeling his face heat with humiliation. Being the recipient of this juvenile punishment was utterly mortifying—how could his father think he needed to resort to spanking, of all things?—but also startling. He'd never considered that his father would do anything of the kind to him, and now that he was, Kevin didn't know what to think. The new uncertainty brought anxiety to churn within him. "You don't have to do this!"
"Oh, don't I?" his father countered, anger apparent in his voice as he brought his open palm crashing down onto his undercurve, causing Kevin to jerk forward at the impact. "You lied to me, went off to a place you know is dangerous, and you're still fighting right me now. I happen to think what I'm giving you is very necessary."
He emphasized his point with a furious series of blows, delivering rapid smacks to Kevin's left cheek until it burned with intensity beyond the imagination, then moving to the right, and then alternating between the two until they both felt like they'd been lit ablaze.
The pain brought Kevin to writhe, his attempts to get free renewed. Kicking his legs, he tried to struggle off of his father's lap, but the only change he earned was an increase in the force and pace of the spanking. He was unable to hold back another cry as his father ramped up the smacks to lightning speed, driving his hand down harder than ever before.
"You stay stay down, and you stay still," his father ordered him. "You think this can't get any worse? Keep moving around like that, and I promise I'll show you worse."
"Dad, please, stop!" As Kevin became more upset, he began to tremble, and the tears he'd been holding back surged forth to roll down his cheeks, brought on by the stinging slaps and embarrassment at his situation. Though he tried to grit his teeth and push them away again, once the tears started, they wouldn't stop, not helped by the seemingly endless strikes that left his ass smarting.
"I'll stop when you do," his father replied curtly. "Show me that you can lie still and take this. Show me that you can obey."
A whimper escaped Kevin's lips at the prospect. Just stay still and endure the spanking? Could he do that? The smacks stung fiercely, and he was overcome with temptation to try to struggle against his father's hold, to do anything to alleviate the continuous pain. But if lying quietly was the only way to bring this humiliation to an end . . .
It was torture, both to his pride and his body, to submit himself to the sharp smacks of his father's palm without any type of resistance. But he surrendered to his father and did his best to remain still, crying openly as blow after brutal blow blistered his sensitive skin. Smacks rained down onto Kevin's ass with such speed that he was left gasping for breath, but he gave up on trying to squirm away. Instead, he lay limply, sobbing against the couch cushion, simply accepting the punishment and taking the spanking his father was giving to him. Handcuffed and prone across his father's lap as he was, it wasn't as if he had much other choice.
For what seemed like an eternity, his father continued the flurry of swats. Helpless to do anything to stop him, Kevin tried to take the punishment as stoically as he could, but the constant barrage of vicious smacks was all but unbearable. The pain was overwhelming, rising and rising until he thought he wouldn't be able to stand it a moment more. As the pressure continued to build, Kevin thought he would have to give up, the pain too great and the urge to escape too strong. But just as he was pushed to the verge of desperation, his father at long last ended the spanking.
Kevin inhaled shakily, barely able to believe his punishment was finally over. He couldn't help but wonder how his father would act now. Would he remain angry and send Kevin to his room? Would he let Kevin remain downstairs, but ignore him for the remainder of the night and not discuss what had just taken place?
His question was answered seconds later when his father tugged him upright and, to Kevin's immense relief, embraced him tightly, holding him against his solid chest.
"You stay out of that forest, you hear? It's dangerous enough without a killer on the loose." his father's voice was adamant, but Kevin could detect the faintest of tremors. He was scared, scared of losing Kevin.
Instantly, he felt horrible for bringing his father to worry, and more tears leaked down his face. Too overcome for words, he just nodded silently, burying his face into his father's shoulder, letting the warmth of his father's body seep into his. His shorts were still halfway down his thighs, the coarse fabric of his father's jeans rubbing uncomfortably against his aching ass, but Kevin didn't complain. Instead, he pressed himself into his father's chest as much as he could, drinking in the comfort of the strong arms wrapped protectively around him.
"I'm just looking out for you," his father said to him, all traces of anger gone from his tone, only tenderness remaining. "I couldn't stand to see anything happen to you."
With the gentlest of movements, he ran his hand through Kevin's hair, his palm brushing against Kevin's temple, holding him tightly with his other arm. His voice was so faint that Kevin had to strain to hear the next words.
"I just want you to be safe."
"I know, Dad," Kevin choked out through his tears, fresh guilt surging inside of him.
He tried to press in even closer and was rewarded as his father rubbed soothing circles on his back. Eager for more comfort, he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes as his father's worked on his muscles, easing the tension there.
"Promise me, Kevin," his father said quietly. "Promise me you'll never go back."
Kevin wished his arms were free so he could hold his father just as tightly as he was holding him. "I promise."
"Just in case," his father said, some firmness returning to his voice, "I'm going to make sure of it."
The statement and his next actions filled Kevin with trepidation. With a murmur of "I'll be right back," and another kiss, he lifted Kevin from his lap and walked out of the room. Kevin was left to wonder what would happen next, anxiety fluttering in his stomach. But within only a few moments, his father returned, holding a small tub of ointment. Setting it down on the coffee table, he helped Kevin rise from the where he was sitting and positioned him bent over the arm of the couch.
Kevin couldn't help but flinch, realizing that since he was still quite exposed, a second spanking was a likely possibility. But his father was quick to reassure him, rubbing his shoulders calmingly.
"It's okay. You're okay. I'm just going to put some lotion on for you." He leaned down and kissed Kevin's temple softly. "I want you to feel better. All right?"
"All right," Kevin said, a blush rising in his features. He couldn't help but feel embarrassed at being so dependent on his father, of needing the kind of care he was offering.
But his father seemed proud of Kevin for accepting, brushing his lips on Kevin's cheek and whispering, "Thank you," into his ear.
Kevin shivered at the warm breath against his neck. Then, startled at the sudden sensation of the cool cream on his reddened skin, he reared back.
His father's reaction was instant, pressing a hand onto the small of his back and holding him down.
"It's fine," he said reassuringly. "I'm going to take care of you. Just trust me."
His face colored further, but Kevin forced himself to obey, wincing as his father spread the lotion across his cheeks and then began to carefully massage it in. While the cream was a welcome relief after the hard swats, the pressure of his father's hands aggravated the soreness. Kevin found himself squirming again, unable to endure the gentle touches.
"Stop that." His father rested a hand on his waist to still him, a mild reprimand.
"Sorry." Kevin blushed harder. "It just . . . it sorts of stings," he admitted shamefacedly.
"Then I'll make sure it feels better." With that, his father dipped into the ointment once more and then began to rub it into the skin just around his entrance. Then, to Kevin's shock, he eased a finger inside of him.
"Dad," Kevin gasped, disbelieving even as he felt himself being stretched. "What are you are you doing?"
"Lie back, Kevin," his father replied, his voice warm but commanding. "I'm going to give you what you need."
Barely able to comprehend what was taking place, Kevin tried to do as his father said but was too nervous, shaking with anticipation. Still, his father worked efficiently to prepare him, and it wasn't long before he heard the zipper of jeans and felt the head of his large cock press against his hole.
His father didn't announce when he entered him, just went ahead and pushed inside. Kevin gasped as he was breached, his toes curling as he was split wide. It had been months since he'd gotten laid, and now he had to struggle to adjust to his father's length.
"This is what you deserve, you know," his father rumbled as he speared into him again. "Attention and affection from someone who cares for you. Not some stranger."
He built up a steady pace, his thrusts hard and deep but agonizingly slow. Wanting more, Kevin tried to push back, but his father held him in place, not allowing him any kind of control.
"None of that, son," his father said, a hint of a growl in his gravelly voice. "Sometimes you have to accept when decisions are being made for you and simply follow along." He ghosted his fingers down Kevin's spine, the tips just barely brushing against his skin. "It can be easier for you that way."
He continued to fuck him with even, slow strokes, not increasing his pace even when he hit Kevin's prostate.
"Dad, more, please," Kevin begged. He could feel the mounting pressure, the rush of heat to his groin, but he couldn't do anything to pleasure himself except writhe against the arm of the couch, trying to loosen his father's grip.
But it was useless. His father's grasp was firm, and tears of desperation sprang to Kevin's eyes once again as his prostate was brushed ever-so-slightly, but otherwise ignored.
"Do those men in the woods ever touch you like this?" his father demanded as he sheathed himself fully inside of Kevin. "Do they ever take their time, show you that they care? Or," he pulled out again to resume his thrusts, "is it all just quick and rough, no concern for you, just for themselves?"
He punctuated the question with a direct thrust home, and Kevin let out a long moan as he finally got the contact he'd been aching for.
"They can't give you what you need." He leaned down to kiss the back of Kevin's neck. "But I can, and I will."
The thrusts remained slow as ever, even as Kevin gasped and panted, tension coiling deep in his stomach. The pleasure grew gradually, swelling slightly every time his father incidentally grazed against his prostate, and before long, Kevin thought he might pass out from sheer want.
"Please, God, please," he groaned, straining against the handcuffs. "I'll do anything, Dad, just please . . ."
"You'll never go back to that forest," his father ordered. "Whatever you need, I'll provide it. But you can never go back there."
"Never," Kevin repeated, his voice wet in his throat.
His father rammed his next thrust straight into his prostate, waited a few moments, and then did the same thing, spacing out the jolts of uncontrollable pleasure. As he did, Kevin's entire body seized, his vision blurring as orgasm finally hit him. Afterward, he lost track of what happened, only vaguely noticing when his father achieved his own climax, and then adjusted his shorts, removed the handcuffs, and pulled him back onto the couch.
Returning to awareness slowly, Kevin found himself curled up in his father's lap, his arms loose but somewhat numb. His father was holding him tightly once again, supporting him with one arm as he reached out with the other to lift Kevin's chin so he could meet his eyes.
"I can't lose you," his father said roughly, cradling his face in his calloused hand, worry apparent on his face. "I just can't."
"You won't," Kevin replied, swallowing as he pressed against the muscled chest. "I promise you won't have to."
His father caressed his cheek with one thumb and leaned in to kiss his forehead. He then moved to Kevin's neck.
Expecting another kiss, Kevin gasped in pain and surprise as his father bit down into his skin, leaving a clear, visible mark when he pulled away.
Raising his head again, his father didn't hesitate to meet his gaze and extend a hand to draw him close once more.
"You're a good boy, Kev," he whispered, stroking Kevin's hair gently. "You're a good boy."