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handsomehelmet · 2 months

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I’m so obsessed with this😩😩

Ahórcame, Papí

Read on ao3! Link

Rating: very...very E. Minors don't even look at the pics. Get outa here! Clicking the ao3 link or readmore implies consent to consume!

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: Daddy Kink, Daddy/littles, pup kink, Breathplay (hands on throats), Orgasm Denial, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Control "Training", Light BDSM, Aftercare, Soft Dom Joel, vers Ezra, Bottom Frankie Morales, Oral Sex, Cockwarming, AnalSex, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Breeding Kink, Heat/rut kink, PTSD mention (vets), gags, fingering, choking, cum eating, prostate milking, fucking machine mention, the elusive "sissygasm"

Summary: After he gives a recovering addict a job (and subsequently falls head over heels for him), Joel and Frankie have a sweet, fulfilling relationship as Daddy and little exploring their kinks. Then, they meet Ezra at a leather club, another damaged vet with his own issues and kinks. They take him home, and he never really leaves.

This fic is an evening in the life of Joel and his two littles, Ezra and kinkpup!Frankie.

(100% smut with a lot of fluff bc it's me and my unyielding need for soft!Dom Joel doting in his partner(s) can't be controlled)

“That’s it, my good boy,” Joel croons, stretching to reach, to pet down Ezra’s sweaty spine. He traces the rolling muscles of his shoulders and abs as his boy moves. He cups Ezra's narrow ass with both hands, squeezing the cheeks apart as he rabbits along, his thrusts becoming desperate.

To his credit, Frankie kneels obediently with his knees together, the hairless, locked bundle of his cock and balls pushed down between his thighs. His balls ache with each slap of Ezra’s on each inward thrust. He has a hunter green and black pup mask on, fitted with a phallic gag by the snaps under the soft leather muzzle, keeping him mostly quiet. Still, with every sharp thrust in, Frankie tips his hips up and a whine squeezes out of his throat.

On the next pullout, Ezra's tip pops out of the tight clutch of his hole and they both gasp, shifting automatically to line back up. Ezra can’t quite manage the angle and glances back, keeping his hands obediently clutched in the straps of Frankie’s body harness.

He’s not allowed to touch his own cock today.

“Daddy,” Ezra gasps, and Joel hums thoughtfully at them, his own hand slipping out of the open fly of his jeans.

“Did your little cock fall out, baby? You’re being such a good boy for not touching Daddy’s toy. Need Daddy to help get you snugged back inside our sweet pup’s tight little hole?” Ezra’s head bobbles on a rapid nod, and Joel snorts a fond laugh. He lowers his creaky knee down onto the ground, kneeling beside his boys where they are tangled together, putting on a show for him. He cards one hand through Ezra’s short, sweaty curls and drops a kiss on his panting mouth before reaching down, levering his dick down to catch on Frankie’s rim. Ezra’s hips judder forward and he sinks in halfway, making Frankie moan around the gag under his mask.

“Oh shit,” Ezra breathes, his thrusts starting to stutter the more Joel pets him. “ Please , Daddy. I beg you, I can’t–”

Joel hums thoughtfully and shifts, squeezing Ezra’s hips to bring him back to a halt. His boy freezes with a shaky inhale, the tip of his dick still inside Frankie’s relaxed hole. Joel slides a hand up over Ezra’s throat, pulling him back into his wide, warm chest.

“You need Daddy’s cock, sweet boy? Hmm ? You can’t come without something in this tight little ass?”

Ezra keens, resisting the hedonistic urge to rut back into the massive erection he knows is pressing hard against Joel’s zipper.

“Yes, please ,” he begs, gripping Frankie harder by the harness cinched under his shoulders to ground himself. Frankie whines audibly past the ring gag in his mouth and clenches his ass, making Ezra hiss and jolt forward an inch.

“You better behave , pup,” Joel says smoothly, slapping Frankie’s thigh. “You’re s’posed to be a cocksleeve ‘til I say otherwise. Cock sleeves don’t move, or clench , do they?”

Suitably chastened, Frankie whines high in his throat and drops down, flat to his chest, making the unbalanced Ezra tip forward with him since his only hand is still knotted in the harness straps.

Joel slicks two thick, callused fingers and slides them down Ezra’s shallow crack, pressing lightly until his fingertips catch on the softened rim of him. Ezra pushes back against him, only a desperate twitch of hips, enough to make Joel sink his teeth into the younger man’s scarred shoulder, a warning nip. “You gotta say it, baby.”

Ezra pants, his thoughts scrambled. Joel rarely sees him so needy as to lose his normally- loquacious tendencies. But damn does he love bringing Ezra’s lofty speech pattern down to garbled nonsense and begging.

Ezra furrows his brow and concentrates. “Please bury your big, fat cock in my ass so I can fill up your puppy, Daddy,” he begs, and Joel bites his scarred shoulder with a hungry groan.

🍑

Joel is proud of Frankie.

He had met the young man first when he was fresh out of rehab and looking for work. A skilled pilot, ex-military, a recovering addict, dumped by his baby mama with no visitation rights, and looking for any kind of work. He’d come to Joel’s contracting business and practically begged for a job so he could get visitation again.

Despite himself, Joel’s heart had clenched when he learned about the daughter.

He had taken Frankie on temporarily for some heavy work in a new HOA development, which turned into long- term work when he learned how adept Frankie was with his hands. The man did anything Joel said, the second he said it. No pushback, no whining. His shoulder was fucked from the military, but he rarely complained.

It made Joel hard , sometimes, watching Frankie shirtless on a job, in the Texas heat, slicked with sweat and muscles bunching as he carried cabinetry inside, or knelt and hammered in flooring on all fours, his soft belly on display from the hang of his shirt and his ass in the air in those well-worn jeans. Joel would find himself pausing over a spread of blueprints on his tailgate, or on the phone arguing with an owner or another builder, struck deaf and dumb at the sight of the younger man hefting a piece of subfloor over his head and walking inside with it. The bunch and shift of his muscles under all that golden skin was intoxicating .

He had quickly realized that Frankie not only knew about but indulged in Joel’s gaze, and made a point to attract it as often as he felt reasonable.

They played this cat- and- mouse game for what seemed like ages, until Frankie’s sober ass drove Joel home from the bar one night after a long, hot, but satisfying work day. They’d finished a kitchen remodel ahead of schedule and gotten a nice tip from the property owners. He, Tommy, and Frankie took that tip to the local dive and made good use of it.

When Frankie had pulled up to the curb outside his house, Joel hadn’t wanted to say goodbye. He nodded toward the house, and Frankie got out of his car wordlessly. He even followed Joel right inside like an eager puppy when asked.

Joel had only had two beers with his burger, was far from intoxicated, but Frankie hadn't let him do more than kiss him against the inside of his closed front door. Didn't want to be a drunken mistake , he had said against Joel’s lips. Didn't wanna get fired over a roll in the hay .

Joel never would have fired him.

But he had heard the no and acquiesced, kept his hands from straying any lower than the younger man’s belt. He had kissed Frankie’s mouth til it was puffy and bruised, and sent him home rock hard in his jeans and panting, those soft brown eyes dazed. After he hobbled to his truck, fists in his pockets and jacket pulled down low in front, cheeks burning, Frankie forced himself to drive away. Joel had fled to his bathroom and jerked off furiously, jetting his come all over the shower wall before collapsing into the cool tiles. He couldn't remember the last time he’d wanted someone so badly . Definitely before Sarah had been born, though.

The next Monday, a new job started. Joel’s hands and words certainly remained professional, but his eyes and thoughts had far more filthy notions, now that he knew what Frankie tasted like . Now that he knew his desire was very much reciprocated .

He had lured Frankie back home that Wednesday, when the jobsite was rained out.

The next two years were spent learning and exploring. Frankie had a need to be told what to do; achieving directives gave him peace of mind. He didn't want to make decisions, and got anxious when he had too much ownership.

Joel had a need to assert some sort of male dominance at times. It had reared its ugly head after Sarah and Ellie had moved out. He’d never had to be listened to quite so adamantly as he did now. Joel had always been a girl dad; an easy, indulgent, if exhausted father. He had Tommy’s rambunctious ass to mind, too, but he had always been harder on Tommy than he’d ever been on his girls. Maybe it was just Frankie , who showed up not long after the girls went off to college, that brought it out in him.

Regardless, Frankie often happily took the brunt of his needs, though Joel quickly learned when his boy was faking a fumble and needed to simply be knocked to his knees.

Perhaps the hardest thing for Joel to accept was that Frankie liked being used, and sometimes far more cruelly than Joel expected. He wanted to follow orders, to the letter. He wanted to be pushed to his knees and his throat fucked raw, while he held his hands behind his back, straining in his jeans while he was teased mercillesly, and wasn't allowed any relief.

After a while, Joel finally figured out that leaving Frankie hard and aching, forbidding him to touch himself til Joel said he could, forbidding an orgasm even if Joel had him on the ropes and shaking, sloppy and crying for release, was truly what the younger man desired.

Their game only deepened after that.

The cock cage came shortly thereafter. Frankie had sneakily ordered it and the pup mask, and shyly presented them one evening.

It was slow going at first, wearing the cage for only a few hours at a time until he built up stamina against the added weight and confining feel of it. He quickly grew to love it, the mental game of feeling like he’s being touched without any actual stimulation, the tug on his pelvis, watching Joel lick the beads of precome from the hole in the tip just to tease him, to make him writhe .

Joel trained him thoroughly on how to come untouched, how to rut himself to completion with a grinder strapped around Joel’s thick thigh and a smallish insertable in his ass, soaking Joel’s belly without a hand on him.

The training cage, a simple plastic sleeve and ring, had given way to a properly measured and bespoke metal cage that held him tight and was far more comfortable for longer- term wear. Frankie stayed locked, and Joel had free use of him, and they both got what they wanted.

Over time, Joel bought a fucking machine and a buttery-soft body harness and supple, padded cuffs, and fine silk rope. An assortment of toys was collected over several months. He taught himself shibari. They learned together how to tie Frankie up the way he liked best, unable to do anything more than squirm, feeling held and secure and safe. Joel would sit splay-legged in front of Frankie and pet him while the machine pounded his ass loose and tender, his tonsils stretched to capacity around Joel’s fat cockhead and drool dripping off his balls, watching Frank’s eyes roll and get that empty, spacey way about them that meant he was getting what he needed.

Frankie swiftly learned to come from prostate stimulation alone, his balls heavy and hanging between his thighs, untouched. With time, he then learned how to do it in his cage , unable to get erect at all, his balls simply emptying in one long drizzle with neither the added release nor hormone dump of an actual orgasm. He got comfortable with the idea of not coming, of existing for Joel’s pleasure, and his own being sidelined. It was a nice end, but he reveled in the service of it, instead of his own gain.

They had milking days where Joel wrung his boy dry over hours of penetration until Frank was nearly cross-eyed and limp as a doll, and days where they rotted in bed all day, cuddling and watching movies. Frankie’s favorite indulgence, if they had a rare two days off in a row, was spending Saturday getting drained, and then Sunday with his nose tucked firmly under Joel’s scruffy jawline while they napped and snuggled and watched shit TV.

He was never allowed to touch himself, not to hold it for comfort or try to tug on it, not even to pee. If he was caught handling his little toy , Joel would lock on the full chastity belt, which Frankie hated . It was claustrophobic and sat tight across his hips and fully encased even his balls. The only thing exposed was his hole, which Joel still made regular use of. But if he was good , and only let Daddy touch his cock, he got anything else he wanted.

🍑

By the time they met Ezra, Francisco had been locked for two months straight. The goal this time was 90 days, and he’d made it to 60 with minimal complaints. They were celebrating, a bit.

They met him at an underground leather club, another vet in his early thirties, who had barely made it out of an operation alive and with a limb missing, and who was now looking for some amenable companionship, in his own flowery words.

Joel had gotten comfortable enough in their dynamic to take his boy out and let him loose on the dancefloor in scarcely more than a chest harness and well- loved dark jeans that definitely showed off his cage beneath the tight stretch of worn denim. He’d collared Frankie when they got inside and set him loose, perfectly happy to watch his boy have fun as long as he was marked.

They weren't exactly searching for a third, but Ezra had immediately honed in on Frankie on the dancefloor. Joel watched them carefully, noting the hunter green hanky in Ezra’s right pocket matching the trim on Frankie’s body harness and collar. He enjoyed the view and sipped his whiskey patiently. They danced and Frankie pointed Joel out, and then it was a show .

Ezra was immediately taken with Joel, and called him daddy while he sweet-talked him with big words and a bigger smile, and Frankie's eyes had blown wide with want, watching them interact. He’d made his pleading puppy- dog eyes at Joel, and Joel had nodded.

So they took Ezra to a hotel.

Ezra had been easy to go to his knees, but he liked the fight . He wanted to push back, earn a tight fist in his hair while Joel choked him on his cock, or layered cane stripes across his ass while he fucked Frankie bow-legged. He liked to be manhandled and pushed around.

He loved it when he was asked to take his prosthetic off and Joel pinned him under his broader frame, or tied his left hand to render him helpless, and fucked him hard into the mattress til he was boneless and pliant and vulnerable, or bound him tight and made Frankie ride him, edging them both for ages until one or both of them was begging through tears to come.

Where Frankie wanted to be put to use and praised for succeeding, Ezra wanted to be made to take it. The injured vet enjoyed making Joel work for his submission some days, and others, he was as easy and compliant as Frankie.

But part of Joel liked the fight, too.

So Ezra quickly became a regular part of their scenes. He delighted in being the flexible one in the party, bottoming unless he was told to top Francisco. Eventually, he simply moved his sparse belongings in and never left.

The first time Frankie was unlocked and allowed to top Ezra, he had crooned so sweetly in Frankie's ear about what a good boy he was, so pretty and strong and capable . Frankie hadn't lasted five minutes before he flooded Ezra's ass with cum and went still from shock and embarassment. His ears and cheeks had burned with humiliation, but Joel and Ezra had simply wrapped him up between them and kissed him breathless and teased him all over til he was ready to go again.

Naturally, it happened that Ezra's favorite place to be was directly between them. He loved slowly working his Francisco open, teasing his little locked cock with slow, firm swipes of tongue between the cage bars, over the drooling tip, and watching Francisco writhe on his fingers while Frank sucked Joel to hardness. He would plug Francisco and roll over, accepting a few fingers as Frankie worked him open and Ezra got his own taste of Joel, nursing out blurts of precome while Frankie sucked him and fingered his hole wide for their Daddy’s fat cock.

He’d shiver when told he’s not allowed to touch his own cock, not allowed to come without something in his ass. Not allowed to make Frankie come, or taste Joel's cum, or, or, or…

He hadn’t quite expected to be Pavlov’d into this new kink, but he had thoroughly enjoyed it nonetheless.

Joel had trained him similarly to how he had with Frankie, but the old plastic cock cage was a punishment for him, and never stayed on for long. The longest he’d managed was a week before he was begging with his yellow word for it to come off.

Joel trained him on the machine as well, hogtying him and letting the dildo pound orgasm after orgasm out of him til he was dry. The difference was that while Frankie could skate that edge for ages, Ezra had far less compunction about simply coming once he had enough stimulus. Even if it earned him a few cane welts, he had a harder time controlling it, hedonistic scoundrel that he is.

So, much to his chagrin, Joel simply got better at edging him .

Ezra found himself quickly taking longer and longer to come while fucking Francisco, until eventually he found he couldn’t properly manage it without some sort of internal stimulation as well. Even a quick, thick finger drumming over his prostate would send him kareening over the edge after hours of edging hadn’t sufficed.

🍑

He presses both fingers inside, feeling lightly at Ezra’s well-prepped walls; he recalls indulgently how Frankie had slowly, painstakingly stretched Ezra earlier while he sucked his cock just as slow, never letting the stimulation rise to the point of orgasm. Ezra is thrusting back on his fingers now, greedily chasing stimulation.

Joel has a wicked idea, and slips his fingers out, smirking at Ezra’s plaintive whine.

“Ezra, put Fish’s tail back in and y’all c’mere,” Joel commands, rising and sitting himself in one of the dining room chairs. Ezra pulls out and slowly presses Fish’s rubber tail plug back in his ass, making him whine at the stretch. He pads over immediately, followed by a crawling Frankie.

“Come ‘ere, pup. Warm Daddy’s cock, while I play with my boy. Under the table, now,” he croons, swiping his thumb through the spit dripping off his pup’s chin from beneath the muzzle and gag. He drops a cushion between his boots and tugs the snaps of the gag free, letting Frankie flex his jaw while he gets situated. Frankie blinks slowly before moving to comply, his soft, dark eyes blank and distant; he’s deep under.

Joel slides his thumb under the nose of the muzzle, slipping it easily into Fish’s wet, warm mouth. He rests the pad of his thumb on his boy’s tongue and hooks his fingers under his chin, guiding him to rest his cheek on Joel’s thigh so Joel can pet him a little.

“You been such a good boy , Fish.” He scritches his nails over Frankie’s scruffy jawline and earns a bashful whimper and tail- wag that makes him grin like a shark. “Can you hold Daddy’s cock in your mouth while I get Ezra ready, and then you can help him sit on Daddy’s lap, take me real deep, and suck his pretty little dick?”

Fish nips his knuckle with a hum and nuzzles into his open fly, sucking on Joel’s thumb in lieu of his cock. Joel snorts and leans back, levering his cock out of his fly and letting Frankie take it in. As Fish settles with his favorite toy and relaxes to rest his cheek on his thigh, Joel turns his attention to Ezra.

“Come here, boy. Bend over, right here,” Joel pats the edge of the table. Ezra pads over, his eyes bright with the need to come, his cheeks flushed and knees shaking. He bends over the table, his thighs spread over the back of Fish’s head, and reaches to grasp the far end of the tabletop in the fingers of his one hand.

It’s quick work to stretch him; Frankie had diligently fingered him open earlier and he’s still soft at the rim from those attentions. His breath hitches as Joel worms a third finger in, turning his wrist carefully as he moves in and out, until Ezra is no longer gasping so much as begging with the curve of his spine. He whines so pretty when Joel pulls away that Joel almost thought it was Frankie, save for the slight sensation of the pup swallowing around him. Joel drops a hand into Fish’s curls and scritches over his scalp, pushing him away.

With a tug, Ezra goes easy, lets his Daddy urge his hips down into Joel’s lap. He straddles Joel backward, his knees hooking outside of Joel’s spread thighs as he’s guided down and back, seating his hole on the tip of Joel’s cock, being held upright by Frankie’s fist.

Joel is still dressed, his painfully hard cock bursting out of the seam of his fly. Ezra knows he’s not allowed to touch unless explicitly told, so he waits, watching Fish fidget on the floor between their knees. Joel reaches under and takes his cock out of Frankie’s hand, stroking himself a few times. He smears a palm full of lube over his length and grips Ezra’s hip with the other hand, guiding him to sit all the way down in one smooth stroke.

“Oh, big stretch ,” Joel croons, petting up Ezra’s belly to wrap around his throat and pull him back flush to his broader chest.

Ezra whines at the slight burn, even open as he is from taking Joel’s thick fingers- Joel is always a stretch. When he rests his weight fully on Joel’s lap, he exhales sharply and wiggles, trying to get comfortable while speared and spread so wide. Joel clamps the hand over his hip and holds him still.

Fish whines plaintively between their knees, wanting attention. He pushes his muzzle into Joel’s knee. Joel bares his teeth at him to make him stop fidgeting, and returns to petting Ezra’s belly, still cupping his throat, as he bears down and adjusts to accommodate Joel’s girth.

“Good boy, Ezra, you stay right there. Don't you dare touch your cock, boy,” Joel reprimands sharply, seeing his hand arrow south. He squeezes his hand around Ezra’s throat and Ezra immediately sags against his chest.

Ezra curls his fingers into a fist and drops his arm to his side. “Sssssorry, Daddy,” he chokes, squirming on his lap anew. “ Please can Fish help me?”

Joel hums, pretending to think about it. He continues dragging his nails slowly up and down Ezra’s belly, almost tickling, making him twitch and wriggle against the two points of contact: being held up by Joel’s hand around his throat and fully impaled on his thick cock.

“Fish, baby,” Joel croons, “come here. I want you to give my little boy a good bite, right here.” He taps the soft inside of Ezra’s thigh, on the tiny tattoo they all share around their groins. “I wanna see teeth marks , pup . I want it to bruise . And then we’ll see about using your pretty mouth on his little dick.”

“Oh fuck,” Ezra breathes, his chest hitching. His cock drools with arousal, making a puddle on the floor between their feet that Frankie desperately wants to lap up.

Instead, he blinks his big soft eyes up at a panting, sweating Ezra and their Daddy, in control and watching keenly with his fathomless, dark gaze. He noses up the long, lean inside of Ezra’s thigh and sinks his teeth in hard , right where Daddy tapped.

Ezra shouts and flexes, his legs trying to snap shut and his ass clamping down on Joel’s girth, his hand clawing at the firm band of Joel’s forearm still pinning him upright. Moving only jostles Frankie’s grip, which only makes it hurt worse , so Ezra forces himself to still and take it. As soon as he does, Fish lets up and licks over the arches of his own teeth marks, soothing the bite.

Joel uses the hand on Ezra's throat to tip him to the side to clear up his view. He runs his free thumb over the divots in his boy’s thigh before hooking that thumb behind Fish’s bottom teeth and tugging him forward.

“Now Fish, I want you to make it real sloppy, baby. Make him cum. Then Daddy’s gon’ fill you up like a good little bitch, right?”

Fish’s head bobbles on an eager nod and he pants around Joel’s thumb until he pulls it away to reach for Ezra’s cock. It’s already pouring like a leaky faucet; he’s so close to coming that none of them are certain Frankie’s even going to get his lips to the base before he blows. Frankie laps over the length of him, wagging his tail at an unhurried pace, and swallows Ezra down easily. He’s not as much of a mouthful as Daddy, and not as long. It’s easy to take him into his throat, and he does, letting his tonsils squeeze the tender head. Ezra cries out and comes, bucking in Joel’s lap to eke out every shred of stimulation he can. He milks Joel’s cock for what feels like ages until his softening prick slides out of Fish’s mouth and Joel tips him carefully forward.

“There you go, sweet boy. Fish, gimme that cushion and you bend over the table.” He eases Ezra, now boneless and easy, down to his knees on Frankie's cushion and drops a tender, sweet kiss on his boy’s panting mouth with a hand curled under his chin. Joel grabs the lube and smears another palmful over his length as he knocks Fish’s feet out wider.

“Hey there, pup,” Joel murmurs, petting down Frankie’s sweaty spine. He arches into the touch, tipping his hips back until the rubber tail of his plug pushes firmly against Joel’s open fly. The pressure moves the large plug in his ass and he whines, begging without words for more. “You made it five months this time, baby boy. Doin' so good without this little toy. You wanna come out and play? You want Ezra's mouth while I fuck you so full of cum you’ll be leakin’ for days? You want his ass? Mine ? Or you wanna shoot for another month?” He ghosts a proprietary hand over Frankie’s flank and hip, down forward to cup his balls and give them a tug. At the same time, he nudges the tail so that it tips downward inside Fish and presses even harder on his abused prostate. "You don't need that pretty little thing to feel good do you? Daddy makes sure you feel good, no matter what, don't I?"

“ Ffffffuck ,” Frankie breathes, the first word he’s uttered under the mask. “Another month, Daddy. Please fill me up. Breed me, and plug me back up to keep it inside; I don't care if I cum,” he begs quietly, nails scrabbling on the surface of the table as he reaches for the far edge.

Joel growls, squeezing the palmfuls of flesh in his hands before hooking them over Frankie’s hips to tug him back a few inches. He pulls the tail plug out slowly, spitting directly into Fish’s gaping hole before sliding three thick, slick fingers in to test the stretch of him.

He whines when Joel slowly sinks in, taking him far deeper than the plug had. Ezra makes a plaintive noise in response, straightening from his slouch on the cushion. He cranes his neck to watch, and finds his hole clenching in response to the familiar stretch Frankie must be feeling. Joel drops a hand on his head, petting his sweaty, short curls. He tugs on the blonde patch fondly and moves back to get a better grip on Frankie’s harness about his waist.

He pounds into Fish brutally, chasing an explosive orgasm now that he knows Frankie wants to be filled more than he wants to come, himself. It doesn't stop a steady drizzle of whitish cum drizzling out of his pup’s locked little dick, though. Frankie thrusts back, taking each forward thrust as hard as he can and matching it, and when Joel finally slams in as deep as he can and empties his balls, Fish ruts back, relishing in the warmth pooling low in his gut, feeling useful and marked and claimed .

“Ezra,” Joel pants after a long moment, catching his breath while still buried deep and bent over Frankie on the table.

“Yes, Daddy?”

“Go get a damp rag, please. And his regular plug.”

Ezra nods and staggers to his feet, accepting a balancing hand in lieu of his own missing symmetry. He disappears and returns not two minutes later in shorts, carrying two wet rags in his teeth and the plug in his hand. He sets the plug on the table on its base and hands one washcloth to Joel, kneeling to wipe up the mess on the tiles with the other. Joel hums appreciatively at his forethought and sets about cleaning up a boneless and spaced Frankie.

He pulls out and wipes gently over Frankie’s abused rim, before slicking the requested toy and sliding it in. He wipes himself down and then tugs Frank upright, mostly carrying him to the bedroom.

Ezra follows, taking off the harness and mask and gear, stowing them carefully away, and then crawling into the bed as directed by Joel.

“I’ll be right back, boys. Frankie, you let Ezra love on you while you come down. Gonna get sum’n to eat and some water,” he explains, leaving his boys to cuddle and bask. Frankie often takes a while to regulate after a long or hard session, they know, but he does well with skin contact and some quiet petting and a snack. Cuddling in the dark with the tv burbling in the background usually does the trick quite well. He burrows his face under Ezra’s scruffy chin and hums to indicate he heard Joel’s order.

Joel tugs his messy jeans off and rights his boxers and pads out to the kitchen, piling up a salty snack and a sweet one, as well as refilling their respective water bottles. On his way back, he stares at Ezra's arm, abandoned on the sofa, for a long minute, weighing whether he’ll need or want it anytime soon, before deciding to leave it. If Ezra wants it, Joel will come back out and fetch it.

Until told otherwise, his immediate duty is to take care of his boys.

He coaxes nibbles of the sorry little excuse for a charcuterie into Frankie between sips of water, and eventually removes the plug before his boy can fall asleep. Waking up with it in will only mean a lot of unnecessary soreness later, even if Frankie complains about taking it out. By the end of whatever insipid movie Ezra has put on, he’s on his belly with an arm thrown over Joel’s ribs, snoring hard into the crook of his neck, sandwiched from behind by their third. Ezra had found his voice again and had been talking quietly but ceaselessly to Joel throughout the film until he, too, had finally nodded off.

As the movie ends and Joel is scrolling to find something to nod off to, himself, a chime illuminates his phone.

He scoops it up off the side table and sees a text from Ellie- a photo of her and Sarah, laughing themselves to tears and caked in powder paint from a fun run at their University today. He takes a terrible, poorly-lit pic and sends it back, of Frankie's loose shoulders and Ezra's face smushed in sleep and drooling, and receives an explosion of laughing emojis with complaints of “ it’s 7pm you old farts! ” that makes him chuckle.

Joel turns his ringer to vibrate, sets an alarm, and rolls to his side, tugging Frankie down into his chest. His arm easily reaches Ezra, his hand loose on the man’s waist, and he leaves it there as he lets himself slowly fall asleep.

They have a long day on the job site tomorrow, but there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than right here, with his boys.

Blog Tags:

@morallyinept @wannab-urs @swiftispunk @luxurychristmaspudding @for-a-longlongtime @timelordfreya @perotovar

if I missed you, I'm sorry! one thousand apologies! I'm just now getting used to doing this at all! 😭

#absolutely stunning #little!frankie was not something I knew I needed but goddamn!#ezra (prospect)#joel miller #frankie morales #pedro pascal #minors dni

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