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2013-09-15
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Obedience

Summary:

Herc makes sure his boy knows where the best place to be is - with him.

Notes:

Written for linndechir, who wanted boots of porn and Herc fingering Chuck into oblivion. :)

Work Text:

"You look like a fucking wolf right now," Chuck observes, sitting opposite Herc. "Something wrong?"

"I haven't seen you all day, where've you been?"

"Helping Mako, why?" Chuck starts shovelling rice into his mouth, and that just pisses Herc off even more.

"I wanted you with me. Never mind. You can make it up to me tonight."

Chuck swallows, his brow arcing. "Does that mean what I think-"

"Come to me in an hour." Herc picks up his empty plate and stands. "I'll be waiting."

+

It's down to the wire on timing, but Herc appreciates that more than Chuck being early. It means that he listened, and he's in the mood to do as he's told for once.

Herc greets him with a bruising kiss, slamming the door closed before anyone can see.

Chuck's breathless by the time Herc releases him, and looks around, dazed. "Uh, hi."

"That was for being on time. You want another one, you're going to earn it, son."

Chuck licks his lips and nods, his demeanour shifting in response to Herc's tone. "Yes, sir. What do you want me to do?"

Herc feels a flare of lust, of power, and looks his son square in the eyes. You are so fucking beautiful that you've reduced me to this, and you still believe I'm the one in control of your world here. "Strip. Everything off, then on your knees for me."

"Sir," Chuck says, lowering his gaze slightly.

Herc turns away from him, deciding where to sit while listening to the sounds of Chuck undressing. In the end he opts for the easy chair in the corner, because the bed might be too much of a distraction. Comfortable, he watches Chuck pushing his pants off, a damp patch already appearing on his underwear. It makes Herc smile, that just a kiss and the promise in the air can affect Chuck this way, his cock already starting to thicken slightly when the underwear is discarded as well. Chuck goes to his knees with a grace only ever practised in combat outside of this room. And waits for the next instruction.

Herc leans forward, holding out his hand. "Come here."

Eyes fixed on the floor, Chuck crawls towards Herc slowly, all the raw strength of a prowling tiger caught in the seductive play of muscle as he moves. He knows exactly what he's doing, and Herc doesn't mind it one bit. "Down," he says, and Chuck bends, spreads his arms and lowers his head until his cheek is resting on the toe of Herc's left boot.

"Good. I want you to tell me what you need from me. Be honest."

Herc leans forward to see Chuck better, watches him swallow and close his eyes. "Tell me, boy."

"I just need you, Sir."

"Dad," Herc tells him, because it feels too disconnected and it's not what he wants. He wants his son.

Chuck nods, cheek moving against Herc's boot, and corrects himself. "I need you, dad."

"You could have had me, much earlier than this. You want me to fuck you, boy?"

"I'll take whatever you give me, Dad."

Herc smiles, and wonders when it went away, the sick feeling he used to get in his stomach when Chuck came to him and asked him for this. He thinks it might just be that he doesn't trust anyone else to give Chuck what he needs. Neither does Chuck, and that's what makes Herc strive for perfection when he slips into this role. It's the only time they have each other's full attention, after all.

"Good answer."

He considers what he wants, and what Chuck said to him earlier in the mess. He shifts, lifting his other foot to rub worn leather, metal and the scrape of buckles along Chuck's outstretched arm. Brings it up to rest the heel on Chuck's shoulder, gently. He doesn't say anything for a minute, simply feeling the silence between them, heavy with all the things they never tell each other. Sometimes Herc still expects Chuck to get up and call him a sick bastard and just walk away. But only on the days he's at his most insecure, the days he just holds Chuck in his lap and strokes him until he falls asleep, boneless and stinking of sex and sweat. Today... Today he's a wolf.

"Okay, boy. Get up on the bed for me. Hands and knees, and wait."

He hears Chuck breathe out, feels him turn his head to kiss the boot he'd been resting on. "Thank you, dad."

Don't thank me yet, he thinks, watching Chuck ease off him, slow, and crawl prettily towards the bed. Herc doesn't move until Chuck's up there, still and waiting. When he gets up, he doesn't go straight to the bed, there's something else that he wants. Gloves from his air force days, buttery soft where they've been well worn in, and he pulls them on, grabs the bottle from the same drawer and finally approaches Chuck.

"I missed you today," he says, slicking gloved fingers. "No touching yourself, you hear me, boy?"

"I hear you, dad. I won't."

"Could've used a hand myself, in fact. Those arseholes at the corps really know how to shit a day up. But, you're here now."

Herc puts one knee up on the bed beside Chuck, strokes his backside before giving it a firm slap. Chuck grunts at the impact, but doesn't move. "Just remember where I am in future, and that I'd like to see you for more than five minutes on a morning. Okay?"

Chuck nods, and Herc feels better. He rubs over the spot that he struck, then with little preamble presses one slick finger down until it sinks in, Chuck groaning softly, his shoulders straining with the effort not to push back.

"I wish you could see yourself right now." Herc knows that Chuck hates it when he says things like this. It's why he says them. Because it makes Chuck blush and bite his lip and arch his back because he doesn't believe that he's already enough. Has to try harder, be better, impress and surpass Herc's expectations. "Christ, boy. You make it hard not to just fuck you right now, you know that? I'm not going to. But don't worry." Herc leans until his mouth is by Chuck's ear. "I'll take care of you."

He eases his finger free, works the second in alongside the first, and Chuck's thighs shake for a second before he catches himself and keeps still, only his rapidly shallowing breaths giving him away.

Herc's hard inside his pants, but he won't do anything about it until Chuck is the mess that Herc's aiming for.

A third finger, and Herc strokes his other hand down Chuck's curved spine, whispering soothing sounds to him while he stretches Chuck open, hooking his fingers slightly to pull that ass back, straightening them again to thrust in, deeper, just to hear Chuck stifle a cry, his head turned in against his arm.

"Good?" Herc asks, wondering if Chuck will hear the concern edging his voice.

"Mmm."

Herc presses deep, curving his fingers and seeking gently until Chuck shudders, moans loud and long and it's the most beautiful thing Herc's heard all day.

"My boy," he murmurs. "So good." He twists his fingers inside the tight heat surrounding them, pressing in and down, stroking and listening to Chuck's moans pitch slightly higher, increasing in volume with every stroke. He keeps still though, trembling and sweating from the effort, and Herc appreciates it, knows how much control it must be taking when so much of it is being stripped away, almost too fast.

Herc's pretty sure that Chuck could come if he just keeps doing what he's doing, but he wants Chuck's cock in his hand, wants his son to feel that soft leather on him, needs to impart some small piece of himself, the surrender he gives in return for Chuck's to him. This is what I was before the war began. This is part of the man you once despised. So he wraps his other hand around Chuck's cock and strokes him, three fingers fucking hard into Chuck's ass now, relentless until Chuck gives a strangled, desperate cry and comes in a thick, sudden spurt, his face in the sheets, ass grinding against Herc's hand, shoulders heaving as he tries to breathe.

And Herc keeps fucking him, keeps stroking his spent cock until he's too done himself to carry on, and only then does he pull his hands away, pushes on Chuck's ass until he's down flat on the sheets, gasping and shaking.

"Dad?" he manages, eventually.

"I'm good, son. Just hush."

"But-"

"I said hush. Come here."

Herc pulls Chuck over, onto his lap, strokes flushed skin, lips red from Chuck biting them. "You okay?"

Chuck nods, looks up at Herc through his lashes. Reaches for Herc's hand, the glove still coated with some of his spend, and pulls it to his mouth. Herc shifts beneath him, watching his tongue work its way over and around and between every finger, feeling the heat of it even through the glove.

"Thank you, dad," Chuck murmurs, when he's done, and Herc figures he's earned another kiss for sure.