The Wrong Type of Redemption

6 Thursday Evening


6: Thursday Evening

For three days, Jerry spent his time in class, practice, and the library studying. Tyler hadn’t approached him again, but he noticed the guy watched from afar. He wanted to asked the menace what kind of kink he got out of telling his father where he was, but he didn’t want to deal with the brothers anymore than he already had.

He wanted to be left alone.

But that wasn’t going to happen because when he got home that evening, his father was sitting by his door.

Jerry stopped halfway down the hall and just stared at the guy. There he sat on the floor, head down in the halo of his arms hugging his bent knees as if asleep. Those arms were pretty toned, like a man who worked on a horse ranch instead of lifting weights like Jerry. He remembered how his father would come in from the ranch in the afternoon shirtless, sweat running down his muscular torso. Those arms had often bailed hay or saddled horses. Arms that also hugged he and his brothers on rare occasions. Jerry’s dick woke when he imagined what those legs might look like naked, cock dangling between them.

As if sensing someone staring at him, his father lifted his head. He blinked rapidly and then quickly got to his feet, body moving fluidly.

“Hi.” He ran a hand over his blonde hair and quirked a kind of smile. “I wanted to call before I came over, but… Don’t have your number. And I didn’t want to miss you, so… Hi.” That rough voice drawled.

Jerry took in a deep breath and ignored the slight five o’clock shadow on his father’s chin that tried to tempt his attention. He went to his door without saying a word. He opened it and walked in, leaving it ajar.

“Can I come in?”

Jerry didn’t answer even as he wondered if he wanted his father in his space. Did he want to forgive him? Or did he care? He was numb to so much it was hard to tell how he felt. The only emotion that registered with Jerry when it came to the man was betrayal and arousal when he imagined the guy on his knees begging in that rough timbre. He’d been imagining that a lot over the past couple of days.

“Have you eaten dinner yet? We can go somewhere or-“

Jerry had too much work to do to go anywhere. He took out his phone and punched in a number. It rang once before someone answered. He ordered two large pepperoni pizzas with extra cheese and extra pepperoni since his father was paying. Then gave them the address and hung up.

“Pay them when they come,” Jerry said dropping his duffel on the floor.

“Okay.” He sounded too relieved. “You play football? I didn’t…think you liked or cared about…um… How was practice?”

Jerry didn’t answer, but his mind drifted to thoughts of the field. Playing made him feel closer to his brother…and had got him into college. Playing would also help him finish. Another plus? Being on the field cleared his mind of the past pain.

“When is your next game? Maybe I can catch it.”

“You want my forgiveness, Philip? Fine. Now you can stop trying,” Jerry said flopping down on his bed. He closed his eyes, one arm crossing over his face.

“I don’t want just words, Jerry. I want… I want my son again.”

“Too bad. You abandoned him. Left him for dead. Only this remains.”

After a moment of silence, his father spoke up. “Then…maybe we can start new…as friends maybe?”

New? Friends? Something woke in Jerry, rose its angry head, and demanded a blood sacrifice. “Why the fuck do you think I came all the way here? For me, getting away from all that shit was supposed to be a fresh start. This was my new until you showed up.” He spat out the words.


“Don’t. Don’t call me that.” He sat up on the mattress and pushed himself up onto his feet. “Are you sure you want friendship from your gay son?” Jerry stalked toward his father who stood his ground in the middle of the room, face looking pained. “News flash! I’m still in love with my brother.”

That big body flinched.

“I know full well what you and mom felt about homosexuality because you both tried to pass it down to me and my brothers just like grandma and grandpa. With Eric it stuck. So you should be proud. He hated until the bitter end. I’m sure you read the police report…” Jerry swallowed. “How… How when he got out of jail he came to hunt me down.” His insides twisted as the agony bubbled up with the memory. Going in at eighteen, Eric had only stayed in prison a year, but while there he’d joined some kind of extremist group that made him worse. “He was going to kill me…blamed me for destroying the family. Grandpa had to shoot him…” Jerry choked back the grief, remembering the scene. His grandfather hadn’t meant for it to be a fatal shot, but the shotgun fired at too close a range. Until that moment, Jerry had hoped that Eric would redeem himself, become his brother again. But that was the moment the rest of Jerry died. The anguish of it all slowly killed his grandfather until he was buried last year just before Jerry entered college.

His father’s whole body trembled as he closed his eyes, remorse screwing up his face. “I didn’t think it would…I know I… Yes, yes, it was my fault!” His body vibrated with some kind of emotion that Jerry hoped was rage. He wanted his father to hit him so he could return it tenfold. He wanted to beat the asshole just like Jerry had been nearly beaten to death…anything to kill the emotions.

“Yes. It is your fault.” Jerry watched his father wobble as if he needed to sit down. Those large rough hands rubbed together anxiously. Knowing the pain was crippling the man, Jerry blocked out his own. “But I’m willing to forgive.” His tone grew dark as he stepped closer to the man. “On your knees.”

“What?” His father frowned as tears watered his blue eyes.

“You want peace, beg for it. On. Your. Knees.” Jerry narrowed his eyes.

Conflict played across that face before his father nodded slowly. He lowered himself onto one knee and then the next. “Jerry, please will you for-“

“I’ve always dreamed of Gerald sucking me off in that same position. I guess you’ll do.” Jerry smiled down cruelly at his father as his cock thickened at the thought and at the look of horror forming on his father’s face. The man quickly fell backwards, then scrambled to his feet.


“Don’t fucking call me that.” He stomped forward with each word as his father continued escaping until his back hit the wall. “And who said you could get off your knees.”

“Son, be reasona-“

Jerry grabbed the hardening bulge in one hand. “Either suck me off…” And pointed to the door with the other. “Or make peace with the other side of that door.”

Mouth hanging open, his father gawked. Snapping out of it when he noticed Jerry still advancing, he nodded, then quickly turned, fumbled with the knob, threw open the door, and slammed it just as Jerry got to it.

Dropping his head on the wood surface, Jerry massaged his horny dick through the fabric of his pants. What the fuck… He panted. What the fuck is wrong with me? Mouth open, hard as hell, it only took kneading his balls a few times while playing mental images of pulling out his cock to rub over his father’s horrified lips to make Jerry cum in a low groan. His face pressed against the cool surface of the door as he felt his pants grow damp. Breathing heavy breaths, his free hand pushed off so he stood straight, looking around the room.

Then he cursed. And laughed. I just chased away my free pizza.

After he cleaned up and washed his hands he went out to the room to wait for the pizza. He sat on the floor, back against his mattress, and tried to clear his mind. He hated reliving the day Eric came back… He wasn’t even the brother Jerry remembered. Eric always had the tendency to tease Jerry because he was the family nerd but it had always been playful…

Maybe Jerry should have tried to visit him in prison…or something… But the pain of what his brother did to him kept him away. So Eric wasn’t only his father and mother’s fault…maybe… Too late for regrets now…far too late.

Shaking away the bitterness he began to open his backpack when he noticed from across the room that something had been slid under the front door. At first, it looked like just a piece of paper invaded his space. Was it a notice from building management? Or a letter from one of his neighbors? He got up and walked to the door to look down as two twenty-dollar bills laying there by his feet. Bending over, Jerry took the cash feeling conflicted. Part of him felt complete satisfaction over making the man uncomfortable and still getting his free pizza. The other part felt like an asshole for the same reason.

Yet, thinking about how he would torture the man if he ever came back…made his cock stir again.


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