Derek placed his hands on his desk, perhaps a bit more aggressively than he’d intended. He was having difficulty concentrating on the things he needed to do. It was troubling.

He never used to have this problem. He usually had no trouble focusing on his work, even when he was having a bad day—especially when he was having a bad day.

Derek knew it wasn’t exactly the healthiest thing to be doing, but it was the only way he knew to cope. Throwing himself into his work was the perfect distraction from the stress and worry of his life. He’d done it for as long as he could remember, except it wasn’t working this time.

His laptop was on the desk. His accounting and budgeting spreadsheet was open. Every cent and dollar that came into the house was tracked and earmarked, every penny meticulously squirreled away into either the rainy day fund or—admittedly much more sparingly—the savings account.

It was all neat and organized, but the familiar cells, tabs, and numbers all seemed a blur to Derek right now. He’d been staring at the spreadsheet for hours. He’d been trying to will himself to work, to finalize the budget for the next week or even just to look over the figures to make sure nothing was amiss, but he just couldn’t muster up the energy to make it happen.

The problem was between Derek’s legs: a pulsing, insistent need pressed up against his thigh by his underwear. It seemed impossible to ignore, but he had to. There was work to be done.

He didn’t usually have any trouble holding back, but for some reason, it was as if he were a hot-blooded teenager again. He popped boners at random, usually inopportune moments. He was horny from dawn to dusk, and it was a constant distraction.

Derek couldn’t afford to indulge his urges. It was a slippery slope. The last time he played with himself, he lost control. He tried to stop, but he couldn’t. He rubbed himself raw, humping his hand into the wee hours of the morning.

He shuddered at the memory, his cock somehow even harder for it. Fuck. He had no idea what was wrong with him, but he had to get himself under control. He clutched the edge of the desk, his fingers digging into the wood, as he took a deep breath to try to expel the haze of arousal that had moved in around his thoughts.

Derek’s chest rose and fell with every deep, deliberate breath. Meditation was supposed to help with moments like this, but it just wasn’t working for him. It hadn’t worked for days, and he was at his wit’s end.

He looked around the room for a distraction—for something, anything that could draw his attention away from his own rock-hard erection. This being Trevor’s “study”, it didn’t take long for Derek’s searching gaze to land on something of interest: a framed picture from what now felt like a lifetime ago.

It was a picture from almost a decade ago. Derek hardly remembered ever looking so young. It was taken at some point during his first year as one of Trevor’s foster-children. He’d been 14 at the time, and it wasn’t until he was on the cusp of 18 when Trevor officially adopted him.

With Derek and Trevor were three other young men. They were the foster kids Trevor had before Derek: Mike, who was the oldest, Santiago, and Colm, who was the youngest until Derek came into the picture. All three had been in their mid-20s by then, and working as close to full-time as they could just to help keep the lights on at the dojo.

Those had been lean years. A major recession had made a mess of the economy, but Derek had been too young and uneducated to truly understand how bad things were. Being in the system had sheltered him from the worst of the chaos, but that didn’t mean he’d had things easy.

For Derek, the recession manifested in his getting bounced from one foster home to the next. It had been a tough time. He remembered feeling unwanted. Inadequate.

He knew better now, but at the time, he’d thought it was all his fault—that somehow, if he just behaved better or worked harder, he would stop getting discarded and abandoned. Of course, no matter how much he bent over backwards to try to satisfy his foster families’ perceived expectations, it never worked.

For a long time, Derek had wondered if there was anything he could have done. With the benefit of hindsight, he knew there wasn’t. The economic realities of the time had simply been beyond the influence of a teenager. It had never been personal—everyone was just trying to survive.

Derek sighed. He wasn’t sure if this was what he wanted to be thinking about, but it was a distraction. It was better than indulging the need between his legs, anyway. It was better to be lost in his past than to be drowning in lust.

Trevor had been a last resort for Derek. At that point, the agency had run out of eligible foster homes for kids his age. Looking back, Derek wasn’t even sure it had been strictly legal for the agency to tap Trevor to foster another kid, but he supposed the previous history of successful fosters played a part in the decision.

The dojo definitely didn’t have the means to support another foster kid at the time, but Trevor and his family had accepted Derek anyway. It was shameful to acknowledge now, but at least at the start, Derek had thought that Trevor would be just like the others—that this was just another temporary placement for a few weeks before the new family got tired and gave him back to the system.

Derek was glad to have been wrong, though he couldn’t say that things had gone smoothly. It took him a long time to adjust to living in a house with four other grown men and just one parental figure. There had been friction—a lot of it—and the difficulties had only been exacerbated by the lean times. Still, somehow, they’d made it work.

At the age of 16 was when Derek took over managing the finances at the dojo. Trevor and his older brothers were good, hardworking people. It was just that their attempts at budgeting, while admirable, had ended up being bumbling at best. They hadn’t had a knack for balancing books, but it turned out that, fortunately, Derek was good at figures.

With him in charge, things got a little bit better at the dojo. Things that used to fall through the cracks were caught. Before Derek took command of the books, some expenses ended up getting doubled up because people wanted to be helpful but didn’t keep track of what had already been purchased.

It was ultimately Derek’s management that allowed the dojo to weather the storm. When the recession finally passed—Derek was 17 at the time—Mike moved out with Trevor’s blessing. Thinking back on it, Derek was pretty sure Trevor had insisted, too.

Trevor hadn’t just wanted to get Mike out of the house to reduce expenses. He wasn’t that kind of man. In all likelihood, he just didn’t want Mike to be tied down to the dojo. He probably just wanted Mike to spread his wings and fly to greener pastures.

Santiago and Colm followed shortly thereafter, a few weeks after Derek’s 18th. The economy had recovered enough for them to find stable jobs, and Trevor encouraged them to take advantage and get a change of scenery.

The three kept in touch, naturally. They visited on occasion and seemed to get along pretty well with everyone, but they had their own lives—their own people and places to protect. Derek couldn’t blame them for not being around more, and he knew that Trevor definitely didn’t.

Come to think of it, it had been a while since Derek last sent a message to his older brothers. He would have to get in touch, but maybe after whatever was wrong with him had passed.

Derek was so horny, all of the time, and he hated how weird it was making things with his family. They were supposed to be tight-knit, but he could hardly remember the last time they were all together in a room without him feeling awkward because he’d popped a massive erection and was trying to hide it without being too conspicuous.

He sighed. He missed those simpler days when it was just him and Trevor after Mike, Santiago, and Colm had left. Sure, the chores had ended up having to be split between two people instead of four, but they’d been manageable. And while he didn’t exactly pine for the days when the dojo had to get by on just Trevor’s income, budgeting had been easier with just two people.

Things changed when the agency got in contact about Marcus about a year after Santiago and Colm moved out. A few years after that, there was Tristan. Then, Leo. Each new foster had meant tightening their belts a bit more, but Derek had never complained. If anything, he’d been glad to have brothers again.

Derek did end up having to grow up quickly. He was the oldest, at that point, and had needed to step up. For Trevor. For these poor kids who had, for one reason or another, turned up at their doorstep needing a home—and a family.

He’d struggled at the start. He didn’t think he would ever forget how hard he had to fight to make things work, but they’d managed, in the end.

Derek had flirted with the idea of going to college at one point. He’d thought that with his penchant for numbers, he could get an accounting degree, get a job outside the dojo, and help take some of the weight off Trevor’s shoulders.

He tried to make it work—for a few months—but in the end he realized it wasn’t for him. It wasn’t the right time. He had too much to do at home and not enough hours in the day to take care of his brothers and do his schoolwork.

Maybe Derek had been parentified. Maybe. If he’d seen some other way to make things work, he would have. He had no regrets, though. He’d seen his brothers grow into admirable young men, and that was all the reward that he needed.

Sure, he might have had better opportunities if he’d stuck it out to get a degree. He might have even been able to move out like his older brothers to pursue a better life somewhere out there in the wider world. The thing was, he didn’t want to leave.

Derek wasn’t sure when, exactly, he decided what his future was going to look like, but he remembered having a pretty solid picture of it in his head. He was going to stay. He was going to continue the work Trevor had started.

He’d seen the system. He’d experienced it firsthand, endured that unique hardship. He knew he couldn’t save everyone, but if there was a chance he might save even just a handful of kids from what he had to suffer, he had to take it.

That was why Derek wanted to give his life to the dojo. Why he was so annoyed at how distracted he’d been.

He directed his attention back to his laptop. He had work to do. It was more than just budgeting for the next month or figuring out how much they could put away in the emergency fund. For the first time in a long time, they were in a place to start planning for the future.

It had been a while since they last took in a foster, and while Trevor hadn’t said anything just yet, Derek had to consider the possibility that that particular family meeting might just be around the corner. That said, he didn’t even know if that was an option for them at this point.

Derek and Trevor had talked at length about the prospect of another foster, but they left off on a bit of an uncertain note. The house was pretty crowded as it was, after all, and finances remained a perennial concern.

The last time Derek and his dad talked, they were barely getting by on the income from Trevor’s construction work, Marcus’ temping, and Tristan’s meager salary at the precinct. Sure, they had some breathing room now, with Trevor in a better-paying job, Marcus in stable work at the club, and the payments from Peter’s private lessons, but they weren’t exactly replete with cash.

Besides, even if money wasn’t a problem, there was also the matter of the team. Five unregistered supers in the same neighborhood was already pushing the envelope, so bringing in a sixth was likely to attract unwanted attention.

Keeping the potential new foster in the dark wasn’t an option, either. Everyone had their specific circumstances, but in Derek’s experience, the feeling of being unwanted was a pretty universal thing for fosters. Leaving a potential foster out of the team would just end up breeding resentment, in all likelihood.

Derek did know that Trevor wanted to do more, though. They hadn’t talked about specifics, but they’d been mulling over the idea of creating a program for foster kids through the dojo.

Even with their increased income, there was no way they could afford to support a program like that, but with some community investment and some government support, there was some hope that they could get it to work. That was why he was squirreling away every penny that he could manage. It wasn’t much, but even a little bit here and there could add up over time.

Fuck. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Derek’s face. He’d been trying so hard to ignore his stiff cock, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to.

He’d gone back to what he was doing before he noticed the framed picture on the shelf. He was staring blankly at the screen, eyes glazing over at the numbers neatly arranged in the spreadsheet.

Derek had one hand on the trackpad, clicking back and forth between two cells as if that would magically get work done. His other hand was wandering down the front of his body, fingers catching briefly on the waistband of his pyjamas before they found their way between his legs.

He bit back a moan as he rubbed the obscene outline that his fat cock made against his thigh. He wasn’t even sure when he started thinking of his dick as a “fat cock.” It was true, he supposed, but it felt weirdly dirty and perverted.

Derek palmed himself through the fabric of his pants. He was supposed to be stronger than this, but he just couldn’t help himself. The pull of his hard cock was too much. It overwhelmed him.

It didn’t help that things had been so weird at home lately. He had no idea what was going on, but he was starting to think there was something in the water.

Ever since that fight with Chimera, things had gotten so sexually charged at home. The worst part was that Derek wasn’t sure how much of it was real and how much of it was just him reading into things too much because of how horny he’d been recently.

Everyone had been showing so much more skin, with Trevor being the worst offender. Derek had seen more of his dad’s legs in the past few weeks than he had in the years since Trevor adopted him. And on the rare occasion that he got to hang out with one of his brothers without things getting awkward to start with, the usually light banter took on an overtly sexual edge.

At first, Derek had thought that it was just a side-effect of the poisoning, but then he had started getting horny, too. He’d caught himself making suggestive comments on more than one occasion, too. He never spoke like that, but sometimes it felt as if someone else was in control of his body.

He groaned. Fuck. It was too much. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Jerking off helped take the edge off for a little while, but it didn’t solve the problem.

Derek hated it, but he was pretty sure he needed to get laid. It was a terrifying thought. Not that he had any hangups about sex—Trevor taught him and his brothers to be sex-positive—he just didn’t have much in the way of experience.

It wasn’t something that Derek liked to advertise, for good reason, but he was still a virgin. Growing up, he’d been so busy helping Trevor he never had the wherewithal for that sort of thing.

The closest he’d ever gotten to a real relationship was a few flirtatious weeks with a colleague during the time that he worked as a male model to make up for a budget shortfall. She’d been really pretty and just his type, but nothing had ever come of it.

Derek’s lack of experience had made him too shy to ever ask her out. Not that he would have had the luxury to go on a date, even if he had. He certainly hadn’t had the money to be spending on something as frivolous as a romantic outing at the time.

Some days, he regretted it, but honestly, he was glad that he had made things clear before they got too serious. The girl had had some expectations that he just wasn’t ready or willing to commit to at the time. Not even now, if he was being honest.

Derek had so much on his plate. He needed to help with the dojo, be a hero, and keep himself trained to respond to any trouble that might come up. He couldn’t afford a distraction, which made his apparent regression into the body of a randy teenager even more infuriating.

Ironically, he was pretty sure he would have had less of a problem if he were dealing with a person. It wasn’t like he could set boundaries with his cock, and he couldn’t exactly walk away from it, either.

He tilted his head back and groaned as he rubbed his thumb in circles over the head of his cock. Fuck. He was way too fucking horny to work.

In all honesty, Derek should have just jerked off from the get-go. He shouldn’t have tried to ignore his erection. He shouldn’t have bothered with meditation. Maybe then, he wouldn’t have wasted so much time going back and forth with himself.

Then again, one orgasm hadn’t been enough to satisfy his urges lately. It was barely enough to take the edge off. It usually took two or three to really give him some peace of mind.

Derek grumbled under his breath. “I can’t fucking work like this.” He wasn’t usually one for swearing, but this was one of those times he didn’t think it was unwarranted.

He rubbed his cock faster. Harder. Fuck. He wanted to be done with this already, but it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it. He definitely wasn’t about to go to a doctor.

The worst part was the thoughts that crept into his head whenever his resolve slipped. They were weird thoughts. Inappropriate thoughts. Almost all involved his brothers or his dad in compromising positions.

Even if Derek did have the balls to seek professional help for this sort of problem, what would he have said? “Help, Doctor, I’m really horny! But you don’t get it. My dad and my brothers are the reason!”

Derek shuddered. He couldn’t imagine a more sure-fire way to make sure the reputation of the dojo went into the dumpster.

He stuffed his hand down the front of his pyjamas, his fingers brushing along the base of his cock. He stared at the door while chewing his lower lip. It was closed, but it wasn’t locked.

Derek’s face flushed. He couldn’t believe he was considering jerking off in Trevor’s study. Sure, it was really more his office at this point, but it still felt wrong.

He supposed he could at least lock the door, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to get up from his seat. He’d just have to be quick. He doubted that was going to be a problem—he’d been feeling pent up all day.

Derek fished his cock out of his pants. Fuck it, he thought to himself. He might as well get it over with because he was going to have to deal with his hard-on one way or another.

If there was any silver lining to this inexplicable spell of mind-numbing horniness that Derek was going through, it was that it had helped him develop a bit of a healthier relationship with his penis. At least, as far as self-confidence was concerned. He wasn’t sure he would classify the near-obsessive compulsion to play with his cock as a healthy thing.

Derek licked his lips as he grabbed his cock and admired the way that it filled his hand. His fingers barely closed around the girth of him, and the heft of his dick was palpable in his grip.

His cock was gorgeous. It was fat. Juicy. Delicious. Maybe that was a vain and arrogant thing to say, but he’d watched enough porn to know that, from an objective point of view, he was big enough to stand toe-to-toe with the best of them in the industry.

Derek had never really looked at his penis this closely before. Sex never used to be at the forefront of his mind. Until recently, the only time he ever played with himself was when he was too pent-up to resist.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, tilting his head back with a moan. Fuck. It felt so good to run his fingers up and down along the length of his dick. It felt so hot and hard in his grip. The pleasure was mind-blowing, like lightning surging along his spine.

It was at times like these that made Derek wonder why he didn’t indulge himself more. His porn-star cock definitely deserved more than his once-in-a-blue-moon jerkoff sessions. It needed more than the bare minimum of attention that he had been giving it.

Derek’s dick was simply too big, too pretty to be wasted on one quick, clinical bate session a month. Maybe it was perverse of him, but he had a bit of a chuckle as an amusing thought about his cock crossed his mind.

His role on the team was as a weapons specialist—Onyx Tortoise. The others used weapons, sure, but those were secondary to their other abilities. Derek, on the other hand, specialized in using weapons. A whole array of them.

The funny part was the realization that it was the weapons specialist, of all people, who had the veritable club between his legs. It made him a weapons specialist not just in the field of battle, but in bed, too, albeit an unproven one in the latter since he was, after all, still a virgin.

“Fuck,” Derek muttered to himself in awe and incredulity alike as his brain offered up an unhelpful follow-up thought. An image leapt to his mind, unbidden and unwanted, but so fucking horny it made his cock throb.

It was a patently stupid idea, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It took root in his head, and there was no shaking it. He imagined himself in full costume—Onyx Tortoise, decked out in his battle suit—but with one crucial difference: with a panel of cloth missing between his legs and his cock sticking straight out from his crotch.

Derek’s breath hitched as his hand flew faster along the length of his cock. His mind conjured a scenario of him confronting baddies while using his cock as a proper club.

He imagined himself thrusting and gyrating his hips, blocking kicks and punches with a swing of his big fat cock. He imagined whipping his cock through the air with lethal precision, smacking criminals around with his dick.

Derek’s cock pulsed and throbbed in his grip as he fantasized about using his powers to make his dick-club even more potent. He pictured wrapping water around his dick and turning it into a massive baseball bat and beating thugs around the head with it.

It even occurred to him that he could use his cryo-kinesis to freeze the water wrapped around his dick into any shape that he wanted. He could turn it into a scythe, or a pike, or one of those giant fantasy battle axes with two massive blades.

Gods. He’d never considered using his powers for sex before but considering everything he knew he could do with them, he could probably change the texture, temperature, and viscosity of the water wrapped around his dick in the fantasy. He could make it nice and warm like what he imagined a tight hole would feel like, which would make it easier to keep himself erect enough to wield his dick-weapon more effectively.

Derek groaned. He was loath to admit it, but the idea of taking bad guys down with his fat cock was bricking him up like nothing else. He loved a good serving of vigilante justice, though it wasn’t something that he often said out loud. In a world where he fought with his cock, though, he was pretty sure it would be abundantly clear just what he thought about taking villains down.

Pre-cum leaked out of the tip of Derek’s hard cock. It rolled down the underside, coating the backs of his fingers. In his fantasy, he smashed a villain into the concrete with his cock wrapped in a club-shaped mass of water. He imagined the water turning white and cloudy as he spewed a thick load into it, his nipples showing through his uniform from how turned on he was.

Derek tilted his head back, moaning desperately as his toes dug into the floor. His ass lifted a good couple of inches off the chair as his hand flew furiously up and down along the length of his dick.

He was close. He was so close. All he needed was just a few more strokes, and he was ready to burst. His legs tensed. His balls tightened. His cock pulsed and throbbed, the load churning in his sack as he approached the point of no return.

The doorknob rattled and in an instant, the pleasure fled, replaced by terror. Derek’s eyes went wide. His ass landed back on the chair with a quiet thump. He hastily stuffed his leaking cock back into his pants and looked up just in time to see Trevor walk into the room.

---

Trevor seemed to be in a pretty good mood as he walked into the room. He’d been a lot happier since getting a job, though he still hadn’t shared too much about his new work.

As far as Derek knew, Trevor had landed a position at a production studio as part of the crew. Whatever the case, he was glad to see his dad having a new zest for life. It was a positive change.

It had been a long time since Derek had seen Trevor look so carefree. In fact, he didn’t know if he’d ever seen his dad look so happy and unburdened. It was almost as if all the stresses and worries of the world had slipped right off of Trevor’s shoulders.

It was nice to see, but Derek was just the slightest bit envious. He wished he could feel as light as Trevor seemed to be these days.

He was still reeling from his interrupted moment. His heart was still hammering in his chest. He was mortified at how low he’d allowed himself to sink. Not only had he jerked off in Trevor’s study, he’d fantasized about using his powers in such a filthy, sleazy way.

It went against everything that Derek believed in. His powers were supposed to be used for the protection of the people, not for taking glee in striking down criminals, or for twisted, perverse fantasies.

The worst part was that Derek was still fucking hard. His head was still hazy with arousal. His thoughts were drawn to the pulsing, throbbing, insistent need between his legs, and no matter how much he tried to distract himself, his mind only wandered back.

Derek took a deep, if somewhat shaky, breath. He could only hope that Trevor wouldn’t pick up on the state he was in, though it was hard to imagine how his dad wouldn’t notice. His brow was sweaty. His face was flushed. He could even smell his musk in the air.

Trevor walked up to the desk and leaned over, craning his neck over the top of the laptop. “Looks like you’ve been busy, huh?” he said. He hooked his index finger over the top of the laptop and bent the screen back. “These numbers must be very exciting.”

Derek’s heart skipped a beat as he looked up to meet Trevor’s gaze and saw the wry smirk tugging at the corners of Trevor’s mouth. The knowing glint in his dad’s eyes suggested that he’d been found out, but he couldn’t think of why Trevor was being coy about it.

“Just look at this column…” Without breaking eye contact, Trevor traced his finger along the mostly empty column in the spreadsheet. “What does that say? Savings? Gods. Isn’t that such a sexy number to see there?”

Derek’s cock twitched. He couldn’t tell if Trevor was being deliberately provocative. Everything he knew about Trevor told him that he had to be misinterpreting things, but the way Trevor was speaking, the way that Trevor’s eyes smoldered as they looked into his, he couldn’t conceive of it being an innocent transaction.

What was he supposed to do when the rational explanation was so outlandish that he couldn’t accept it? This was Trevor. His dad. They didn’t share a single drop of blood, sure, but Trevor was the only father he’d ever known, and the fact he was adopted didn’t change that.

No. No. Derek couldn’t accept the notion that Trevor was flirting with him. There had to be another explanation.

Maybe this was just Trevor’s true personality finally getting a chance to surface. Derek knew better than anyone how challenging life had been until very recently. If Trevor had been suppressing the more playful part of his personality to focus on survival, that seemed like a sensible enough explanation for what was going on.

Derek wasn’t sure he bought that explanation, but it was a far cry better than the alternative. His dad couldn’t have been flirting with him. It was wrong. Immoral. Perverse in the worst way.

And yet, his cock twitched at the prospect. Some small part of him he would never acknowledge or allow to see the light of day found the idea appealing.

Derek was straight, but he wasn’t blind. He knew how hot Trevor was. Part of the reason he took care of his body as well as he did was because he looked up to Trevor and wanted to become as hot and shredded as his dad.

As he was thinking about Trevor’s body, his eyes couldn’t help but wander. His gaze lingered briefly on Trevor’s lips, the cocky, knowing half-smirk that tugged on them. He felt his ears warm as his eyes slid down, over the prominent collarbones showing past the straps of the tight tank top, to the cleft between the thick pectorals exposed by the deep-cut collar.

Now that Derek had a moment to think about it, it did seem awfully forward of Trevor to lean forward like that, knowing that he would be getting his thick pecs right in front of Derek’s face. It was practically the equivalent of a well-endowed woman leaning forward with a loose blouse to show off her cleavage.

Yes, this was Derek’s adoptive father, but the effect was pretty much the same as if Trevor had been a big-busted woman. Derek’s entire body flushed with heat. His cock throbbed against his leg. No matter how much he tried to tear his gaze away from the thick slabs of meat stretching Trevor’s tank top near to bursting, he could not muster the willpower to do so.

Derek fought the urge to groan. Trevor’s new wardrobe had been an adjustment from the start. The fragile state that Derek’s own libido had put him in made it all the more difficult to get used to.

The fact was, he’d known Trevor the longest. For as long as he could remember, Trevor had been dressing the same way. He couldn’t exactly say that Trevor’s fashion sense was modest, but he supposed utilitarian was as good a word as any.

Derek had never seen anything wrong with it. As long as the clothes fit and weren’t so damaged he’d look like a hobo if he went out in them, Trevor never used to care what he threw on.

Hell, Derek himself was a bit guilty of not caring about his looks. He certainly took after Trevor until his brief stint as a male model. Even then, he only cared about his clothes as far as making sure he wasn’t wearing clashing colors or unflattering cuts. He never truly bothered to dress to impress.

To say that Trevor’s wardrobe had changed dramatically would have been a massive understatement. It used to be that he would wear clothes until he couldn’t. What he did wear was frugal. Thrifted from second-hand shops.

Trevor used to wear “new” clothes to work until they got ratty and worn out. Then, those clothes got a second life as house clothes or sleeping clothes until they took on too many holes to be comfortable. By the time he threw his clothes out, they were usually falling apart at the seams.

The new wardrobe, however, looked amazing on Trevor. His tank top conformed to the contours of his body. His shorts were snug around his shredded legs. Basically, his impressive physique was on full display with his outfit, which, fair enough, it deserved to be.

Derek was fine with the tank tops that stretched taut across Trevor’s corded, pillowy pecs. He was fine with the tight sweatpants that showed off the sculpted definition of Trevor’s quads. The crop-tops and short shorts, though?

The problem was the effect that wardrobe had on Derek. He didn’t want to be fantasizing sexually about his family, least of all his dad, but he couldn’t help himself. It was hardly his fault when Trevor was dressed like a cheap hooker.

Fuck. Derek had seen more of his dad in recent days than he’d ever wanted to see, which was something considering he’d seen his dad naked before. Sure, it was only ever in the context of a locker room, or an emergency, or some other situation that didn’t make it weird, but he had seen everything his dad had to offer.

Nowadays, though, he couldn’t go a full day without seeing Trevor’s nipples pressed up against the straining fabric of a too-tight crop-top. It seemed as if everywhere he looked, he saw Trevor’s ass crack or Trevor’s bulge.

It should have been innocent. Derek should have just ignored it all and moved on, but the way Trevor was dressing made it all so fucking sexual. Maybe that was on him. Maybe it was his fault that he was so fucking horny these days. But that didn’t change the fact that every time he saw his dad, he had the dirtiest, filthiest, most perverse, and wrong sexual thoughts he’d ever had.

Derek wanted to ask his dad to tone it down with the new outfits, but he’d kept his mouth shut since it seemed like dressing like a skank was making Trevor happy. If Trevor was finally feeling comfortable enough in his own skin to be showing off his body, Derek didn’t want to crap all over that newfound freedom.

Gods knew that Trevor definitely deserved to feel happy and unburdened after everything he’d done for his family. Derek just wasn’t sure how much more of this he would be able to survive.

Derek wasn’t even supposed to find other men attractive. He was straight, for fuck’s sake. But he was so fucking horny and his dad was so fucking hot he could hardly help himself.

Fuck. An unwelcome notion had just crossed his mind. He hadn’t wanted to start fantasizing about Trevor when the man was right in front of him but thinking about his dad and how frustrating it was to have the man dressed so provocatively around him had sparked a filthy, immoral, and utterly perverse, thought in his head—it was glorious.

Derek imagined himself from his previous fantasy, except he was alongside Trevor. Their cocks were out. He was beating enemies with his cock, wrapped in water shaped like a club. Trevor was shooting thugs with blasts of golden Qi from his dick by thrusting his hips.

This was so, so wrong, but he couldn’t stop himself. He wasn’t even gay. He fantasized about how good Trevor’s fat cock would look at full mast, stiff, throbbing, and wrapped in a golden lung—an Eastern dragon—made of Qi.

“Are you okay, Derek?” Trevor’s voice and its sudden, unexpected proximity jolted Derek out of his fantasy.

“Y-yeah,” Derek stammered as he took a single, tremulous breath in a vain attempt to calm his racing heart, “I-I’m sorry. I was just… M-my head was in the clouds. W-what were you saying, Dad?”

Trevor chuckled. The corner of his mouth turned upward in a wry little smirk. “I was just commenting on how sexy”—his voice dropped an octave into a sultrier, gravelly register—“it was to see a number other than zero in this column.”

Derek gave Trevor a strained smile after watching Trevor almost sensually stroke the side of the “savings” column with the tip of his index finger. If only Trevor knew how hard Derek was fighting the urge to reach between his legs and rub his cock through his pants.

Fuck. Derek was so fucking horny, and it was a problem.

Mustering even the slightest modicum of composure, Derek said, “Y-yeah, dad, I-I’m glad to see it’s not zero, too. E-even if the good times d-don’t last long, a-at least we’ll have a bit p-put away… F-for emergencies, you know?”

Trevor flashed a grin. “I’m pretty confident it’s going to last,” he said. “This is different from all those other times we had some extra money. I’ve got a stable job. Peter’s paying well. Marcus is bringing in a decent amount now, too.”

He leaned in close to Derek, his voice dropping into that lower, sexier register once again. “Things have changed for us, son. We can loosen our belts now. It’s okay to buy small luxuries. No one is going to complain about a little… indulgence… here and there.”

If there was one thing that Derek was glad for in this situation, it was that there was a desk in the way of a direct line of sight from Trevor’s eyes to his crotch. Derek’s dick was pulsing like mad. He felt as if he were primed to burst at the slightest provocation.

“A-actually, Dad, I was meaning to tell you something about that…” Derek was trying desperately to salvage his sanity here. “Things might look good now, but things can change without warning, so I think we need to be caut—”

Trevor leaned forward and placed his index finger on Derek’s lips, interrupting the thought and sending Derek’s brain haywire. “I take it back… I should have known someone would complain: you.” He pulled back, straightened up, and walked around the side of the desk.

Derek froze. He hoped Trevor wouldn’t come any closer, but of course Trevor did. Because the universe hated him right now.

Trevor came to stand right by Derek’s shoulder. He was wearing booty shorts, as it turned out, and they were barely able to cover his thick ass cheeks.

The straps of the jock Trevor was wearing underneath the booty shorts were visible just below the leg holes that might as well have been suctioned around the contours of Trevor’s tree-trunk thighs. The front was no better, the shorts so tight that Trevor’s bulge was quite prominent.

Said bulge was very near to touching Derek’s shoulder. Derek was fighting desperately not to look, but with Trevor so close, not only was his heart racing, he could also practically feel the heat radiating off of Trevor’s package.

Derek couldn’t help himself. He stole a glance. He didn’t know why he was doing this, why his cock twitched while he was ogling his dad’s dick print.

Trevor was half-hard. His cock visibly twitched while Derek was looking.

Seeing his dad’s cock move stole the breath from Derek’s lungs. He gulped down a lungful of air, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face. With no small amount of reluctance, he tore his gaze away from the nigh-obscene outline of his dad’s cock and stared instead at the computer screen.

It didn’t help. The numbers might as well have been invisible. His eyes focused a mile behind the screen while his attention—every ounce of it that he could spare—was turned toward his dad’s bulge hovering barely an inch away from his shoulder despite the fact that he was not looking at it.

Derek had to do something. This wasn’t sustainable. If he didn’t try to at least redirect, he was afraid that he would do the unthinkable. After all, Trevor’s cock was so close. It wouldn’t take much movement to brush up against it.

He was mortified at how badly part of him wanted to get intimately familiar with his own adoptive father’s cock, but he didn’t exactly have the time or the wherewithal for introspection. Calling back to the conversation they’d been having, Derek mustered what willpower he had left and said, “I-it’s not that I don’t want us to enjoy the payoff, Dad.”

“Then what is it?” said Trevor. His hand on Derek’s shoulder, squeezing gently but firmly, didn’t help the situation between Derek’s legs.

“I-I just think it would be wiser to make sure t-that we have a good nest egg t-to fall back on,” said Derek. He shut his eyes, his face scrunching up in concentration as he fought his body’s carnal urges with every ounce of discipline that he’d honed through years of martial arts training. “J-just in case things go back t-to the way they were. Heaven forfend, b-but we can’t predict everything. O-once we have a sizable emergency fund, t-then we can have fun without needing to w-worry about where the money’s going!”

Trevor clicked his tongue. “You’re still so young, Derek. It’s not healthy being a penny pincher at this age…” He trailed off briefly, his tone softening somewhat. “I know you’re not the kind to be out drinking or partying, but you should enjoy your life while you can. Because that’s what your twenties are for!”

Trevor crouched next to Derek and slung his arm around Derek’s shoulders. “Now’s the time to be having fun,” he said as he placed his free hand over Derek’s breastbone. He splayed his fingers, almost caressing Derek’s pecs through the shirt Derek was wearing.

Derek’s breath hitched in his throat. Trevor’s touch definitely went beyond what was appropriate. It was too intimate for friends, to say nothing of family members, and especially between a father and his adopted son. It made his cock ache. It made his heart flutter. He could hear his pulse thundering in his ears so loudly he could barely think.

There was so much wrong with what was going on, but he couldn’t pull away. He couldn’t tell Trevor to stop. His brain refused to accept that his dad was acting inappropriately, the dissonance in his mind growing with every second that Trevor stroked his chest. The perverse, primal part of him, on the other hand, was loving the attention.

“L-look, Dad… I-I appreciate it… I do. B-but I’m really happy with where I’m at…”—Derek licked his lips—“I-I don’t want to a-anything like you’re describing.”

Derek focused on his vision for the future. It was his only lifeline in this fucked up situation. “W-what I want… More than anything… i-is for the dojo to succeed.” Somehow, he found some steadiness in his voice. “I just want the family to be in a good place.”

Trevor whistled, the corner of his mouth curling into a little smirk. “You should loosen up a bit, buddy,” he said, his voice low as he continued to rub Derek’s chest in slow circles. His fingers even strayed a bit, his nails grazing a nipple through the fabric of Derek’s shirt.

Derek’s entire body was primed for sex. He was So fucking horny that one, feather-light brush of Trevor’s fingers against his nipple sent a bolt of lightning down his spine.

“It’s honestly my fault that you’re like this,” said Trevor with a sigh. “You had to grow up so fast because I wasn’t around enough—I wasn’t a good enough father.”

“D-dad, no…” Derek’s heart skipped a beat, though for different reasons this time. It pained him to hear Trevor talk like this. “It… It wasn’t your fault. You were doing your best with what you had.”

Trevor chuckled. “Maybe,” he said, “but I still failed you. And that’s the truth. So please let me make it up to you. Stop focusing on the numbers so much. Let me handle that stuff. Use your youth the way you’re meant to. Maybe take a nice guy out on a date. Or a girl, I guess, if that’s more your speed.”

Derek rolled his eyes. His heart was beating fast in his chest. His cheeks were hot. His ears felt as if they might burst into flames at the slightest provocation. This teasing, however, was the first hint of normalcy that Derek had felt since the start of their conversation.

“I’m straight, Dad,” he said, a hint of exasperation managing to creep into his voice.

Trevor paused. “Are you sure?” he said.

Derek shook his head and managed a quiet laugh. This was a conversation they’d had a handful of times over the years. Maybe the first time had been genuine, but every other occasion since had been more akin to a light ribbing from his dad.

He couldn’t blame Trevor exactly. He could see how his relative disinterest in the fairer sex could be misinterpreted like that. But no, he was straight. As straight as an arrow—present doubts and difficulties aside, in any case.

Trevor shrugged. “Oh well,” he said, patting Derek on the shoulder. “I still think that what you need is to get laid.”

Derek flushed. “I don’t even want to think about that, Dad,” he said. “I don’t have the time. The dojo needs me, and with this Chimera making trouble these days, I need to keep up with my training.”

Trevor rolled his eyes. “Alright, I’ll back off for now,” he said, pulling his hand away from Derek’s chest. “I don’t want to be pushy, but you really should think about relaxing a little bit.”

Derek took a breath. He was just glad the conversation had finally taken a different turn. Ever since Trevor crouched down to his level and got up close and personal, his cock had been on the verge of bursting.

He might have been able to hide his arousal to some extent, but he didn’t think he would have been able to hide it from Trevor if he’d ended up creaming his pyjamas. Either way, he figured it was probably best to just say what Trevor wanted to hear. “I promise, Dad,” he said.

“Good boy,” said Trevor.

Derek felt a flush of heat through his body. It was weird. Very weird. But he didn’t have the mental bandwidth, after everything, to even try to process his reaction.

“Anyway, I nearly forgot what I came here to tell you…” Trevor chuckled. “I need you to teach an adult class at the dojo—if that’s something you think you can handle.”