Work Text:
Michael invited himself over to Franklin’s home way too often to ever dispel that ‘rent boy’ rumor.
It wasn’t like Franklin worried about that rumor too much, since Michael only came over to drink while bitching about life, or sometimes watch TV (in silence, which was awkward, but better than the whining).
Lately, though, Franklin was suspicious of the nosey folk in Los Santos who see and hear too much.
Ever since Franklin and his crew cleared the big one, Michael had been visiting even more. That wasn’t so bad, as his big-ass house in Vinewood Hills felt too big for one person.
What was bad, though, was after the usual drinking and bitching Michael put Franklin through, he began to reserve the last few hours of his visits to proposition Franklin for sex.
Michael De goddamn Santa had asked Franklin Clinton if he wanted to fuck way too many times these days, like some freaky asshole threw the idea of Franklin being a rent boy into the older man’s face.
It started up once Michael got drunker than a skunk, which Franklin let slide too often. Some dudes just get a little fruity when they’re about to knock out from alcohol poisoning, or that’s the excuse Franklin made up for him instead of just asking up front what was going on.
Michael wouldn’t get quiet or awkward, nothing suspicious. The man would be shooting the shit like usual, but after knocking back a couple hard drinks he’d start getting touchy, like he had a right to Franklin’s torso.
Sometimes it was innocent. Well, seemed innocent, until what conspired later.
Like a slap on the chest, his mentor had done it before. But then he got bolder; fingers sliding across Frank’s stomach for a second, even once laying his palm flat on Franklin’s side. Every time that hand reached in a different spot, it seemed too long to be a misplaced touch.
When Franklin said nothing to Michael about his touching (he’d label it ‘inappropriate’ but he didn’t mind it as much as he should), the older man began to outright suggest testing out their compatibility in bed.
Not like Michael was being delicate about the situation— it took him two days, at most, before he started asking Franklin what he thought about the two of them having ‘a quick fuck’.
The whole situation was bizarre, but Franklin could think of worse things. Actually, Trevor asking for the exact same thing a few weeks back came to mind, and that was something he never wanted to hear from Uncle T again.
When Franklin got time to himself after ushering a drunken, lonely Michael to head home, he felt tempted as hell to ignore his rational side for a gratifying fuck. How nice it would be to ignore the possible consequences and allow his friend to go to town.
Michael was good at everything else in Franklin’s eyes; it would make sense for him to be good at sex, too. Strangely enough, it didn’t feel wrong to imagine, though he had never entertained the thought until Michael outright bugged him about it.
Tonight’s offer was served surprisingly sober with a rogue hand wandering along Franklin’s tense shoulder. It was distracting to have such concentrated attention, but not distracting enough to keep Franklin’s mind running a mile a minute, that warm hand feeling heavy along his muscle.
“I dunno, man…” Franklin trailed off, his eyes focused on a spot above Michael’s head. Embarrassed didn’t even cover the look on his face. He still didn’t have an answer for his friend, no matter how tempting the situation was.
It felt like a delicate situation to be pushed into, and going one way or another could leave bad blood between the two very good friends.
Michael intimidated him for once—just because he wanted to have a mutual masturbation session or something. Holding a gun to his head and ordering him to drive a SUV into a building? Apparently that was hardly worrying.
No, the idea of touching his mentor—his father figure, his twisted mind supplied— seemed far more disturbing for some reason.
With good reason, any sane person would think. But Franklin couldn’t exactly label himself sane… Not when Michael’s suggestions made his body tense up in excitement, preparing for more touch from the older man.
Underneath the morality of the situation, Franklin felt he had no real excuses to say no to Michael, which should’ve been more worrying than thinking about how their relationship would change if they had sex.
“Franklin,” Michael began, clearing his voice from the mild arousal it held. “I’m not forcing you into this, kid. You can do what you want, I ain’t your keeper. But you’ll never know what it’s like until you try.” He slipped his hand from its spot on Franklin’s shoulder to his own side, an attempt at behaving himself.
The fact that Franklin already missed the weight of Michael’s hand told a lot about his thoughts on what he really wanted.
Even though the offer was tempting, it didn’t mean it all seemed weird as hell. Weird was a thing Franklin didn’t like putting himself through. He hardly had control over his career, as Michael took care of it with his connections. But to give Michael even more purchase, it was hard to give that up for an orgasm.
He thought about those hands leaving an even stronger impression lower than his shoulders and chest; having some experienced company working him over. His stomach twisted in satisfaction as his dick twitched, one of the only positive reactions of the prospect.
“Fuck, man, this is just wrong. I didn’t want this to happen, M,” Franklin admitted. It was hard to convince himself that it would be better to refuse. But Michael said nothing in reply; the older man was looking down at his hands.
Franklin should’ve seen it as strange behavior. Even though it was out of place to see Michael vulnerable, he mostly saw, deep down, a lonely and horny old man who just needed company in every sense of the word.
Franklin of course, didn’t mind stepping up to the plate. He’d done everything else for Michael, why would this be any different? At least, that’s what he told himself if he ever needed an explanation for his actions.
With his mind made up, he grabbed Michael’s wrist and pulled him closer with ease. Michael’s face lightened up at the wordless invitation. It was a feat Franklin was mildly proud of, since Michael was known to be a stick in the mud on the average.
“Fuck it, alright. Just fuck it— show me what you got, pops.” Franklin had given up on any sanity that was once attainable. They had been shoulder-to-shoulder before; they had even seen each other naked (white boy parties are fucked up). But this was going to be different.
Michael laughed, his hands back to roaming in that same fucking spot they gravitated towards lately: Franklin’s wide, muscled chest. It seemed to be his preference in any gender, maybe. Franklin supposed he’d learn sooner or later.
He leaned into Michael’s touch.
“You look strong. Healthy.” Michael was fixated— his head was lowered and those usually stern eyes were appraising Franklin in front of him.
It felt like nobody ever looked at him that way, like he was about to be eaten alive. Franklin let out a quiet exhale in an attempt to calm himself. No need to get high expectations before any proof.
“I know what you can do with all that muscle. I’ve always wanted to test you out,” Michael said quietly, his voice dropping low again.
Franklin’s dick stirred again, and when did being thought of ever do it for Frank? Michael was doing strange magic to his head or something—he felt so out of control. He didn’t think he’d be knocked down a peg so quickly.
He pushed himself against Michael’s soft body, placing a hand along his ass. Straight-forward physicality was more of his realm, and the sooner they could get to business and get rid of the weird feelings between them out of the way, the better. Well, that and Michael’s ass always looked inviting- it was a good place to start.
“What did you have in mind?” Franklin asked before placing his other hand on Michael’s other cheek, his ass proving to be a nice handful.
Michael didn’t say a word when he began to rub against Franklin. From the waist down they were tangled together, warm thighs pressing amongst other things that Franklin wasn’t used to.
It was a lot more overwhelming to realize how into this Michael was physically with his cock thick and rock-hard, compared to Franklin barely stirring.
He didn’t thrust back against Michael as he eased his grip along his mentor’s ass, which must’ve been a big enough sign for the older man to change tactics.
“I’ll be gentle with ya,” Michael murmured playfully, his hands finally running along Franklin’s waistband.
“Go ahead and do what you want, man. As long as you do something,” Franklin replied with honesty.
Michael laughed again, his fingers reaching underneath his pants and boxers, fingers sliding all over his hips, anywhere but his cock.
Franklin gave Michael another squeeze and the man slid down onto his knees, as if commanded. His hand still teased underneath Franklin’s pants, the waistbands keeping his hand movements restricted.
It was maddening, but Franklin knew it was about to get good. His dick thought so, anyway, at full attention now; twitching every time Michael’s fingers came close to touching it.
Michael looked up at Franklin’s face, his blue eyes too damn thoughtful for someone about to suck dick. Instead of saying any of his deep thoughts he was surely having in the moment, he looked back down and unzipped Franklin’s jeans.
With the restriction gone, Michael’s hands pulled both Franklin’s jeans and his boxers to his ankles, Franklin’s erection springing up into the older man’s face. One of Michael’s hands took residence between Franklin’s thighs, but the other hand gave a nice firm grip on Franklin’s cock and he about sighed in relief.
“I wanted to do this for a while now,” Michael breathed, sounding mesmerized. His thin lips were parted, and Franklin didn’t even have time to be shocked at how cock-hungry his best friend was before Michael reached up to mouth his thick cock.
It was wet and warm, and already Michael’s tongue had darted out to swirl around the head.
“Shit,” Franklin blurted over the noise of contentment Michael hummed at getting a taste.
Michael was pulling out all the stops: his eyes were closed in serious concentration, and Franklin was reminded of the scowl Michael usually had on during a job. His cheeks were hollowed, sucking loudly.
Franklin’s hips moved out of his own will, thrusting forward as Michael wasn’t going down on him deep enough, his tongue still teasing near the head than along the shaft. He wanted to feel his throat, to hear Michael filled up on him.
“Don’t leave me hanging, man. Open up,” Franklin demanded, one hand reaching for a grip along the older man’s head.
Michael retreated, dodging the hand brushing at the back of his head with a wet pop. When the man had leaned back far enough to straighten up from his spot on the floor, Franklin swore he could hear a quiet chuckle. Franklin must’ve been fucking hilarious to him tonight, because Michael had never laughed this much in his whole time knowing him.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do, son. I call the shots.” Michael looked pleased, compared to his strict words, which Franklin didn’t know if he felt thankful or disappointed for—he was kind of used to being bossed by Michael… Not like he’d ever admit it.
“A’ight,” Franklin conceded quietly. His cock was not as thoughtful as his demeanor and twitched in want of attention once again.
“Good boy,” Michael joked, his voice still rough. He leaned forward once again and grabbed onto Franklin’s cock and pumped a few times, pre-come gathering at the tip.
Franklin gently rocked his hips, holding himself back as all Michael gave him was a firm hand, his mouth still closed. He pushed his luck and thrust forward, his cockhead running into Michael’s cheek and the corner of his mouth with little resistance. His mentor said nothing, still jerking him with that hungry stare.
The slicked up cheek he was given to use was maddening, and it was hard to blindly comply with what Michael had wanted from Franklin when his pleasure was just out of reach.
Several thrusts came at a different angle when Franklin put his hips into it, and his cockhead would catch against Michael’s mouth, a frustrating glimpse of wet heat compared to Michael’s now cooling skin.
But instead of taking the hint, Michael continued to tease. Franklin had to run his mouth again, feeling desperate.
“M, please, man, something more…”
Michael shook his head, looking way too happy for someone basically getting cockslapped. He thought Trevor was the sadistic old man, not Michael, but here was his old man proving him wrong.
If he was going to keep this teasing up, Franklin felt he might explode.
His dick bumped along the corner of Michael’s mouth again, and he pushed his hips forward for one last chance to gain entry. Michael pulled back and Franklin could hear a hoarse chuckle below.
“I don’t wanna beg for this. I just wanna cum,” Franklin muttered, his voice bordering desperation. Michael looked up for a split second, only to look back down and resume with his hands.
“Sorry, kid. Just having a little fun. Y’know, what most people aim to do before orgasm,” Michael replied dryly before wrapping his mouth around Franklin’s dick again. A groan spilled out of his mouth at the sudden sensation.
Michael went further down on Franklin’s cock and he got quiet; the sucking stopped but his tongue roamed along the underside of his shaft.
Michael’s hand along his shaft slid to the base and he gripped tight. He left it there, still laving his tongue with no rush as Franklin’s dick filled out even more, the blood rushing up from the tight grip at the base. It stood at attention, bumping the roof of Michael’s mouth.
Franklin watched hazily as Michael’s face screwed up in concentration again, but this time one of his hands was rubbing along the tent in his slacks.
His fingers grabbing at his crotch gave an obvious outline of his dick, and it looked humble in size compared to Franklin’s.
Seeing Michael’s head bob in perfect time with his hand below rubbing slowly, made Michael’s mouth slurping along his dick even better. He hadpower over the older man.
Michael wanted his cock so bad he had to touch himself while sucking it.
“Shit,” Franklin gasped out. Michael hummed in agreement and it made things too damn real. Franklin felt his balls tighten, orgasm sneaking up and ready to burst.
“M—Dad—“ it slipped out of his mouth, and his eyes screwed shut in pleasure as well as mortification, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Franklin blabbered helplessly, his hips picking up speed to keep the pleasure of the sucking and slurping at its peak.
Michael followed his pace, tongue wildly rubbing underneath the shaft as he went up and down, the hand that he used for himself came up to fondle Franklin’s balls with the perfect amount of pressure.
It took less than a minute before Franklin shot his load, his hands idling stiffly at his sides fisted tight as Michael’s mouth milked him.
Being the proper gentleman his friend was, he swallowed with no complaints.
“Thanks for the ‘dad’ shoutout.” One of Michael’s hands was back down at his slacks, rubbing away again. The other was gripping onto Franklin’s thigh, fingernails pressing into the skin gently.
“Can you just give me a minute of peace?” Franklin asked without giving away his embarrassment, or at least he hoped it came out that way.
Michael let out another laugh at his expense, again, and Franklin was tempted to kick him out with blue balls.
“Son, help me out here.” It was less of a request and more of a demand. Franklin didn’t waste time, wanting to return the favor. He ignored his softening erection and clumsily came down to Michael’s level, ass smacking flat onto the cold floor.
“Shit, hold on M.” Franklin pulled off his shirt quickly and placed it onto his lap, covering his crotch. “S’already getting drafty down there,” he explained himself sheepishly before placing one hand along the bulge poking up from Michael’s slacks.
Franklin had done stuff like this before, mutual jerk-off sessions, sometimes using a friend’s hand when it was too much work to find some girl around the hood who would do it instead. But this was different, as Michael was… Special.
It felt a lot more exciting to be doing this at Michael’s desire, for starters. Michael wanted him, of all people, to make him cum. It was almost an honor, if he were being honest with himself. He really looked up to that crazy old fucker. Michael was basically his dad, and here he was enjoying touching his boner.
He could afford therapy now, he should probably invest in it. But it wasn’t the time to question his sanity again, as Michael began unbuttoning his own slacks. Franklin helped him pull down his pants and boxers, his erection sitting straight up against his hip.
Franklin felt his mouth go dry, so he licked his lips without thought. Michael gave a quiet chuckle, looking down at himself as if he wanted to see what caused Franklin to go quiet.
“Wanna give it a taste?” Michael leaned back, using his elbows as a prop.
Even when he looked relaxed, even more so with his dick hanging out, Michael still looked like he could pull his pistol out of thin air and clap someone at a moment’s notice.
“I wanna see what you can do, kid.”
“Um,” was all that would come out of Franklin’s mouth. He leaned back, hand rearing up from its close proximity of Michael. It was daunting to try and live up to what Michael wanted.
“Hey, I’ll take whatever I can get,” Michael seemed to read his mind, trying to coax Franklin back. He took the pause in action to unfold his legs from his cross-legged seating with slow care, wincing as he stretched them out.
“Yeah.” Franklin scooted forward again, his hand gripping Michael’s dick with no pretense. He pumped experimentally a few times before leaning on his side to get closer. He hadn’t felt nervous in a long time. He refused to let it be known. “I’ll see what happens.”
He was pushing himself into strange territory… If ‘strange’ meant ‘oddly erotic’; hearing Michael’s breath pick up and exhale heavy, every time he pumped with one hand and rubbed along his body with the other, it was strangely powerful stuff. His stomach did a flip, and he felt vigor return below his belly, too.
Michael De Santa was going to wear him out for the night, and he was older than his usual conquests.
Franklin reached down and ran his tongue experimentally along Michael’s shaft, and the older man let out a low moan. It was a bit overwhelming to be down there, he felt, the smell heady along with Michael’s hips immediately seeking out his mouth again.
He put his hand as a weight against Michael’s hips to keep his cock from bumping up too deep into his mouth, and began to experimentally suck alongside his licking.
“Frank, please,” Michael murmured, his hips pinned by Franklin’s strength.
Michael’s cock tasted… Like skin. Franklin was expecting the taste of stale sweat, or even precome with the amount Michael had been waiting to be touched. But he couldn’t complain, knowing there were far more disgusting people roaming the earth and still getting their dick sucked, not naming any names. And Franklin had been sucked till he came enough times to know what to avoid.
The main issue (because there was always an issue to solve in Franklin Clinton’s opinion) was making it good enough to knock his old man out.
He might be aiming high, with this being the first dick he sucked, but he hoped his enthusiasm made up for lack of skill; he was already stirring underneath the slightly damp t-shirt he placed over his cock.
Franklin picked up his head, and Michael let out a groan of protest, eyes opening only to bore into the back of Franklin’s skull.
“How long ‘till you bust a nut?” Franklin asked, his grip on Michael’s dick easing up. Michael sighed impatiently. Immediately, Franklin regretted asking.
“Can you just, you know,” Michael began, lifting up from one elbow to do a sweeping gesture, “Suck my cock and try to act excited about it?”
Franklin held in a laugh before running his hand along the spit-slicked shaft in front of him. It jumped to attention, demanding more touch.
“I was thinking of fuckin’ you, since I don’t know much about…” He gestured with his free hand, a sweeping motion over Michael’s body. “This stuff.”
“No way,” Michael shot back immediately. “I don’t get fucked. I do the fucking around here, son.”
“Guess you just get this mouth, then,” Franklin replied with annoyance. He shook his head and nearly rolled his eyes before lowering his head and fisting Michael’s member again.
The man below him sighed, this time in pleasure. Those noises were much better than his complaining, even though they were on the quiet side.
Franklin was too used to women gasping and moaning his name too much. He supposed that’s what made Michael hard to resist: he constantly challenged Franklin to do better.
He felt this whole experience was strangely new, compared to the ladies he had brought home before. This was sensual, or something. Michael was refined (or acted like it), experienced, but willing to let Franklin experiment.
Michael’s breathing had sped up, his hips still trying to rise up with every tug Franklin gave his cock. But Franklin had Michael beat on strength, one arm more than enough power to keep the older man rooted. Franklin began to pump languidly, reveling at feeling Michael squirm, and underneath his loud breaths it was obvious he was getting closer to begging audibly with each pull.
The man below him was restless, his breath coming out loudly, and his eyes heavily lidded. He looked damn good. But it wasn’t good enough for Franklin. He wanted to hear what Michael thought about all of… This mess they started up tonight. What he meant when he said ‘I’ve wanted to do this for a while now…’
That was kind of deep for trying to get into someone’s pants.
“How long you’ve been thinking about this?” Franklin asked before bringing his mouth down to suck along the side of Michael’s dick. His eyes widened in response, and his hips attempted to stutter to a stop.
“What?” Michael panted. Franklin didn’t ask again, his mouth still experimenting.
“Fuck, kid,” Michael started, his breathing still uneven. “I… I dunno. Just a few weeks, maybe. I don’t know,” he babbled.
Franklin stopped sucking and tugging at Michael to use both of his hands to push his mentor’s hips down. Michael immediately whined at the loss of touch. It caused Franklin to smile. He wanted to hear more of that, and less of the whining Michael was prone to do.
“Don’t lie. Just tell me— how long you’ve been waiting for me to suck you off, pops?”
Michael couldn’t move an inch. Above him, Franklin licked at leisure, his tongue sweeping gently along the shaft, but never covering it fully with his mouth. The heat from his breath caused Michael’s cock to jump, seeking for more pleasure. But Franklin could wait.
“Shit,” Michael muttered lowly. Franklin kept his tight hold on the older man’s hips, his thumbs rubbing at the bone hidden under a small layer of flub.
“Okay, so maybe I wanted to suck you more than let you suck me,” Michael admitted softly. It was oddly vulnerable sounding for a man whose dick was jumping for joy at the slightest touch of Franklin’s lips. “You were wearing some basketball shorts once. I… Saw. You know.”
Franklin shook his head in amusement. Those shorts always tripped everyone up. He just didn’t think men were looking… Now he knew.
Michael continued, and underneath Franklin’s arms his hips attempted to buck again with no success.
“It’s more than that… You know… Shit, I don’t need to tell you anything. You fuckin’ know,” Michael growled. He was getting frustrated, if he wasn’t already.
Franklin bobbed down, finally taking in Michael’s thick cock. The older man moaned in response, and near Franklin’s head he heard the man’s fist smack against the floor.
“You normally do this? Like to tease the chicks you get with?” Michael rambled heatedly, his fists unfurling to lay his palms flat against the floor. He was trying to put his weight everywhere to buck up into what little sensation Franklin was giving him.
Good luck, Franklin thought, too busy sucking to smirk.
“Fuck, I can’t believe you, kid,” Michael started up again, his voice hoarse. Franklin’s cock was hard again, making itself prominent even through the shirt covering it up by giving a jump at Michael’s voice. Of course, Michael couldn’t see how he affected Franklin as his head was facing the ceiling. Franklin would have to let him know he was at fault later.
“I just wanna cum— shit, you’re gonna knock me out.”
Franklin said nothing in reply to the man, his jaw beginning to ache from the on-and-off sucking in between long tonguing sweeps of his mentor’s dick. He wanted to touch himself, but it was way too much fun keeping Michael pinned down. Unless…
“’Scuse me,” Franklin rasped before reaching down to toss the dirtied shirt to the floor. He leaned forward on one arm to slot himself along Michael’s thick body. Michael’s skin was soft, but he had a little bit of body hair dusted all over that made pressing up along him weird.
Michael grunted in response to Franklin’s weight smushing against him but he changed his tune when Franklin began rub on him, their lengths brushing together. When he looked up at Michael’s face, it was like he was trying hard to hold back. Franklin was getting tired of it. He grabbed his and Michael’s dicks together, and the pressure intensified when he began to rut again.
Michael’s heavy breathing was starting and stopping in tandem with his hips, like he was controlling himself into a state less frenzied. He was trying to out-last Franklin, if he were to guess.
“C’mon daddy,” Franklin laughed out while rutting against Michael, working hard to lie aligned above the older man without squishing him further. “You don’t have to wait up for my second wind.”
Michael picked up his pace against Franklin in retaliation, snaking an arm around Franklin’s back, his fingers attempting to keep a grip along his placement. His eyes tightly shut as he let out a loud, low moan at the sensations.
Franklin knocked their heads together as he sped up his hips, moving much faster than Michael’s attempt. Michael’s blunt fingernails scratched into Franklin’s back while his free hand let out another slap against the floor. It didn’t deter Franklin, feeling his balls tighten for the second time that night.
“Fuck, yes!” Michael hissed through his teeth as his orgasm tore through him. Franklin kept rubbing against him, cum making a mess across his hands and Mike’s belly.
The friction lessened as Franklin kept up his pace against Michael’s quickly softening, completely soaked erection, and it almost felt better that way; Franklin was willing to spend sooner than later.
“Liked that?” Was all Franklin could bite out before his own moans filled the room; Michael wasted no time in helping the younger man out.
“You’re a goddamn beast,” Michael whispered affectionately. His grip slid across Franklin’s cock with ease, taking over where Franklin left off.
Franklin’s thrusting became erratic, sensation beginning to overwhelm before tilting his head up to press his lips against Michael’s—it felt like the only thing he could do to make the moment that much better.
They both groaned into each other’s mouths as Franklin spilled the second time that night, coming out across Michael’s belly, making an even bigger mess. Michael pumped Franklin’s sensitive cock a few more times until the younger man whimpered in protest in his mouth.
“Ugh,” Michael said after they parted, letting out a laugh. Franklin couldn’t help but laugh too—it didn’t take long before M was back to himself; no orgasm could keep him from whining.
“That’s what you get for trying to hold out on me,” Franklin replied, picking up his dirty shirt from before to wipe at Michael’s stomach. The man didn’t even flinch. “The hell you think you can outlast me for, huh?”
“Yeah yeah, call it an old fool’s dream.” Michael leaned back up on his elbows, like he was much earlier. He looked more than pleased to have Franklin cleaning up after him, not even making a move to put himself away.
“Like this shit right here? Me doing all the work for you?” Michael snorted at Franklin’s goading, bringing his legs closer together to knock his feet together.
“I can take care of myself. Just enjoying my time before I have to leave, trying to chill with my boy.”
Franklin finished wiping (to the best of his ability, busting always wore him out) and threw the shirt across the room.
He considered his options at this point with little care: he could either not do this thing again, or he could keep doing it. Ignoring it wasn’t really an option, as was the drawback of most things involving Michael De Santa.
“You can stay if you want,” Franklin said cautiously, standing up. He pulled up his boxers and jeans before he held out a hand to help Michael up.
The man took it without a word, looking like a nasty ass fool with his dick hanging out. Franklin pat his old man’s back amicably, blessing his poor soul for being so goofy.
Michael returned the gesture and gave a large smack against Franklin’s back and held it there, the two of them standing side-by-side.
“Y’know, I think I might. I am kinda tired now…” The man feigned a yawn and a stretch. His arm around Franklin’s back returned from the stretch even tighter, pressing the two men together with no space in between. “Thanks, kid. Lead the way to the guest room.”
“Don’t even play like that, pops. You’re coming to bed with me.”