The Wrong Type of Redemption

31 Eve


31: Eve

That night when Jerry got home, Philip was at the stove cooking what smelled like spaghetti. He dropped his stuff to the side and walked up behind the man. He leaned his chin on his father’s shoulder.

Smiling, his father turned slightly to look at him. “What’s up?”

“Smells good.” Jerry’s hands grabbed onto the back of Philip’s t-shirt.

His father reached for a wooden spoon, scooped out some of the sauce and lifted it up to Jerry’s mouth.

“Blow on it first. It’s hot.”

Jerry did. As his breath blew over the surface of the spoon they gazed at each other. For the few seconds their stare held, sexual tension began to boil. Then Jerry broke the spell by tasting the sauce.

His father asked, “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Is it good?”

“Have I ever complained about what you cooked?”

“I just thought you ate everything.”

Jerry snorted. “Trust me, old man, if you’re cooking wasn’t good, you’d know it.” He kissed the man’s cheek. “You were always a better cook than mom. Not as good as grandma’s though.”

“Speaking of your grandmother, when was the last time you spoke to her?”

Jerry sighed. “After grandpa died last year, she demanded I move back home to help her with the ranch and mom. We fought.” He shrugged. “We haven’t talked since.” He blew out a breath walking to his bed and plopping down on the edge. “And you know she holds a grudge… She’s still pissed I came to school all the way here. I kind of abandoned them, but mom doesn’t even know I exist. And grandma isn’t taking care of her, the psychiatric place is. Every time I visited mom there it’s the same…” And it was hard seeing his mother just sit there like a mannequin. “Grandma wants to push everything off on me like I live to serve her. Part of me thought of going to help. I mean, I wanted to. But I can’t pretend I’m not gay anymore. I can’t pretend I like hearing the hateful things she says about people. Sometimes I want to tell her who I really am so she can just curse me and turn her back on me. But I don’t think I’m ready for that rejection yet.” After all, he still loved the witch.

“Well, when you’re ready, I’ve got your back.”

Nodding, Jerry just watched Philip cook without saying anymore.

Philip served up their plates and sat down on the floor with Jerry. “I can’t wait to move so we can have tables and chairs to sit on. Or at least a sofa.”

“You just want a sofa so you can bend me over it.”

Philip paused with his mouth on his fork.

Jerry chuckled and continued eating.

Philip chewed carefully before swallowing. “Give me the list of what you need and I’ll buy the stuff at the triple X store down the street.”

Jerry grinned. “You mean you’d be willing to buy a butt plug?”

“And a fucking dildo if that’s what you need.”

Jerry laughed. “Damn, old man, you really do want my ass.”

His father unfolded his legs to display his bulge.

Jerry’s brows rose.

“Or we can skip the butt plug and just let me have you,” his father said.

“What!” He couldn’t believe this old fart. “I want to be able to walk. And how embarrassing would it be for me to go to the ER for rectal hemorrhaging because I had my dad’s dick up my ass?”

Philip chuckled.

“How is that funny?”

“It’s not but…” Philip said but he continued laughing. “Your reaction.”

Jerry grumbled shoving more pasta in him mouth.

“I could always use my fingers until you’re ready,” Philip said taking another bite.

“Someone has done their research.”

“After you said you had to make preparations, this afternoon I went to talk to that Queen that you told me about.”

Jerry paused staring at his plate of red sauce dumbfounded. His father in a gay club? “You went to the King’s Throne?”

“Yes. She…uh… He was very nice. Gave me some pointers. And told me to tell you hi. By the way, you can’t go back there because if he puts his hands on you again, I’ll break his neck. And that bartender, too.”

Jerry’s eyes widened as his fork hit the plate. “Really, dad?”

“Wow…you called me dad.” Philip grinned, thrilled.

“That ain’t the issue here. You just threatened to break a man’s neck.”

“Oh.” He shrugged and continued eating.

“Dude, your level of crazy is too extreme.” Then something else pinged in his mind. “Can you…can you break a man’s neck?”

Philip just nodded, continuing to eat.

“You can?” Jerry’s pitch rose in shock.

“In three different places… No, five.” His father corrected as if it were no big deal.

What the ever-living fuck…

“Sorry, didn’t mean to freak you out.” His father reached out and caressed Jerry’s jaw. “But I’m serious about that Queen. Don’t let him kiss you again.” His father didn’t show any hint of teasing. “So, tell me about the guy who was blowing you that time in the alley…”


“So he’s already dead.” His father nodded approval.

“Okay!” Jerry got up from the floor and took his plate with him. “What the hell, old man?”

His father let out a breath. “I know. I know. I’ll stop.” He rubbed his brow and continued eating by the bed while Jerry ate leaned back against the kitchen sink watching his psycho father.

After finishing his first serving, Jerry curiously asked, “Have you ever killed anyone?” Then he turned to the stove to fix himself another plate.

His father didn’t answer.

After piling on the food, Jerry turned back around, eyed the quiet guy, and said, “Your silence bothers me.”

“Every child of Alan Voronin took at least one life before the age of ten,” he said sitting his plate to the side, not looking up. His vision seemed to bore into the floor.

“How many did you take before the age of ten?” Jerry asked.

His father’s gaze shifted to his hands as he opened them, palm up. “I’m not a good man, Glitch.” Was his only answer. “There is a reason I left when I was sixteen. I wanted to be normal. I wanted to be…” He sighed. “Something I’ll never be.” He curled his fingers into fists. “I admire you so much. Able to accept everything you are. Face it all…” He picked up his plate and went to the sink.

Leaning beside him, Jerry forked more food into his mouth. He thought about his father’s words and wondered if his father could ever be himself.

He was about to put another fork full in his mouth when his plate was taken away from him and his father was licking the sauce from his lips.

“Wait…” Jerry chewed the remainder of the food in his mouth and swallowed. “Hold on-“

His father lifted the cloth of Jerry’s shirt. Raising his arms, Jerry let the man have the damn thing. His father tossed the shirt and went for his pants button next. 

“You’ve got to be kidding-“

His father’s kiss shut him up. Then he pulled back. “I bought extra lube and some stuff to help clean you thoroughly. Let me help.” Then he was shoving Jerry’s pants off his hips.

“Philip! Too fast.” He growled trying to push the eager man away.

“Not fast enough.” His father’s serious face came nose to nose with him. “I want you. Bathroom. Now.”

Jerry swallowed hard before nodding and going to the bathroom. Inside he found soaps, enemas, lube, and condoms lined outside the shower. “I have no one to blame but myself…” What was the saying? Be careful what you wish for?

Thirty minutes later, Jerry was washed, dried, lubed, and feeling all kinds of weird. Part of him was giddy. Part of him wanted to run and hid. And part of him wondered how the hell he got to this point in his life in the first place?

When he opened the door to the bathroom, he noticed the room was quiet. Where was Philip?

Then he looked down and saw a leg. He poked his head out the door to where his father was sitting beside the bathroom looking up at him.

Philip smirked a sexy expression the made Jerry’s blood pump to his dick.

Naked and feeling a bit vulnerable Jerry walked out the bathroom and looked around. “So where do you want me…”

Philip took Jerry’s hand and threaded their fingers together. “I used to think I liked the small delicate hands of a woman…” He took in a deep breath. “I’m going to shower. A cold one. I know I’m rushing you. I need to take a moment and think so that I don’t scare you. I don’t want to scare you because of my selfishness. Gerald did that enough.” He blew out a breath. “I guess, I’m just a starved man who’s been in a desert too long.”

Disappointment shot through Jerry, shocking him. He didn’t want his father to back down. But instead of voicing it he just chuckled nervously. “So you made me prepare for nothing. I even lubed and that wasn’t easy since it’s my first time.”

Heat flashed in his father’s gaze. Then he grunted. “Damn, I wanted to do that.”

Really? Jerry grinned reaching out for the other man’s hand. Philip gave it and Jerry helped pull his father to his feet.

“Hurry up and shower. You smell like old man.”

“Because I am.” His father grinned going into the bathroom.

“Not that old, you’re only forty-two,” Jerry murmured low knowing the man couldn’t hear him. He went to his dresser and pull out pajama pants then paused. Feeling a bit daring, he shoved the pants back in the draw and went to lay down on the bed naked hoping Philip got the clue.

He was ready to shove his fears aside…at least he hoped so.


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