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Luca lit a cigarette as he walked down the alleyway to his destination. The mewling of stray cats and the smell of piss and trash nauseated the man.
Tsch.
He was too old to be playing goon, especially for their customers who didn't deserve the leniency. Chad Anderson was a frequent loanee of their business, and even though the boss enjoyed wringing the old man dry by piling up the late fees, that didn't mean diddly squat if he stopped paying altogether. Anderson was already three weeks late on his agreed upon payment, and the boss didn't like that, so he sent Luca over to teach the man a lesson on honoring one's word.
He walked up the steps to the shitty apartment complex. Second floor, third one down the right. Knocked on the door, cigarette dangling between his fingers.
Anderson went pale white when he opened the door and saw who the visitor was.
"Mr. Indovino, how can I help you today?" Anderson coughed as Luca blew smoke right into his face in response. His visitor took in a deep breath and sighed exasperatedly.
"How can you help me?" Luca said, leaning a hip against the door frame. "Well, for starters, you could relocate to a better part of town. Think I got dog shit all over my loafers." He scraped the bottom of his shoe on the threshold wood, excavating the sole of his Doc Martens from the layer of dirt they had accumulated on the way over here.
He shifted his foot so that it kept the door propped wide open. "Gonna let me in or what?"
Anderson wrung his hands as he stepped backwards into his home, excuses already forming on his tongue. "Listen, Mr. Indovino, I know what you're here for, but --"
He was silenced by a wave of an index finger. "If you know why I'm here, then you know why the boss doesn't take excuses for an answer."
Raising the shades he was wearing, Luca gave his mark a penetrating stare. "Now, where's the money?"
"I don't have it!"
"Well, you better start sellin' shit if you want to keep all your fingers, Anderson." Luca said, through an exhale of smoke. His tone was sharp like the dagger hidden in his back pocket, ready to demonstrate his point.
He gestured over to the oak cabinet in the living room where a wide array of trophies were. An assortment of gold medals hung next to a line of gold trophies; each and every award polished sparkling. Luca thought he might need to put his shades back on from how bright they were shining.
"What about those, could get some coin melting 'em," Luca said, tipping his cigarette in the cabinet's direction, ash falling to ground with the motion.
"Those aren't mine, those are - those are my son's."
"Your son old enough to work?" His blue eyes turning abruptly to Anderson's, making the older man jump from the intense stare.
"Turned 18 a few months ago."
"Shit, I was hustling since I was 9 years old." It was a rough time, being the elder sibling to Chris. Luca had always had a rough life, even when their father was still alive - the yelling, having to take over as parent for a deadbeat father and this innocent child who didn't deserve none of that. Even now, now that they're both grown men, Luca still felt that obligation towards his younger sibling. To be near him, to protect him, even if he was capable to protect himself nowadays. When you spend so much time together, in those circumstances, living in the slums and fighting to survive, it's only natural to still find solace in each other's presence.
But even if Luca came from a rags to rags story, it didn't make him soft to the sob stories. He's heard them countless of times on the job.
If he had to work for his shit, they have to, too. And it better be on time.
"Well, better start emptying his piggy bank because the boss wants full payment today."
"Today?!" Anderson exclaimed, skin tone turning three shades paler.
"Plus interest, my friend."
"Mr. Indovino, I'm just a single father trying to make ends meet to provide for my son. If you could please just give us one more month, I promise you'll have your money." Anderson waved desperately with his arms, the gauze taped over the spot where he'd donated plasma earlier this week showing itself. "Plus interest!"
Luca nodded his head, wordlessly heading to the Anderson's small kitchenette. He rummaged through the bottom cabinets underneath the sink, pulling out a large trash bag. Then, with the same calm pace, he walked over to the display cabinet and started shoveling things into the bag.
"No! Please don't!" Anderson said, rushing over to the display cabinet and laying an arm on his visitor. These awards were the only things his son cherished. When kids his age were ramming race cars into each other, Anderson wasn't able to provide him the same luxuries. The dojo was his work and also his son's playpen, unable to afford a proper babysitter. After the first medal his son won, Anderson thought his son would able to forgive him for the lack of childhood someday, catching the little boy staring on at these symbols of pride in their spartan, bare bones home. Or at least Anderson hoped as much.
Luca growled, yanking the offending limb off the sleeve of his suit. "Get your fuckin' grubby hands off of me," he said, dropping a string of medals onto the floor and winding a fist in his free hand. He launched his fist at Anderson's face who immediately shifted stances, crouching low to stabilize his feet as he grabbed Luca's arm in the air and twisted him backwards in a swift spin, slamming the man into the display cabinet.
Anderson's eyes popped open in a daze when he realized what he'd done. He extended a hand to his visitor who was slouched against the bottom of the display cabinet, shards of glass all over the floor. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Indovino. I didn't mean to do that, I'm --"
Luca let out a roar of frustration as he tried to tackle the man to the ground, but his target easily evaded the clumsy attack. He tossed the medallion that had gotten stuck around his arm after colliding into the cabinet, the inscription on it clear as day. A fucking karate teacher, just his luck. For such a wimpy, skittish man, the single father had quite the core strength to him; if he hadn't blocked the back of his head at the last moment, Luca thinks he may have knocked out right there from the impact.
"Dad? Is everything okay?" A voice called from upstairs, footsteps making their way to the staircase. A young man popped his head out and gasped in surprise. "Dad?!"
Anderson's face went sickly green. "Go back to your room, Chris. Dad's dealing with a visitor right now."
Luca, who had been fuming with anger earlier, composed himself when the visitor caught his attention, putting on the suave demeanor he used when he was negotiating contracts. He straightened his suit, licked his bleeding bottom lip of the visible blood, and with the coolest tone possible said, "No, let's have Chris join us." He extended a hand in the young man's direction. "Hi Chris, I'm Luca. I'm one of your father's friends."
"You're a loan shark," Chris spat, stomping down the stairs with his arms crossed. A broad, muscled forearm snuck out of his defensive pose as the son took Luca's hand and slapped it away from him. He stepped in front of his father, legs shoulder width apart. "Leave my dad alone."
Luca raised an amused eyebrow. Oh, he's feisty.
"I would love nothing more than to leave your father alone, Chris," he said with a condescending shake of his head, "But he owes my boss a lot of money."
"I looked at the contracts you've been billing him. He paid his balance. The only thing you're collecting on him is those bullshit "service" fees that you tag on every month."
The old man's eyebrows lifted up in shock, clearly oblivious. He looked to his son for confirmation, and his son nodded back at him with a grim set to his lips.
Confidence bolstered, Anderson squared his shoulders up and stepped in front of his son. "Well you heard him, we've paid your debt." His voice faltered, "A-and we won't be requiring your services any longer, so you can take your leave now."
Luca laughed incredulously, which made the older man jump into defensive position again. He flared the inside of his suit to pull out the pistol from his holster, shards of small glass brushing off of the fabric as he did so.
He aimed the gun square between Anderson's eyebrows. The older man trembled backwards, slipping on his own feet as he tried to widen the distance between them.
"No, you listen to me. You don't dictate the rules, we do. Now fork up the dough or else."
Chris hurriedly rushed to his father's aid, grasping his arm in worry as he lifted him up. The young man glared daggers into Luca's eyes when they were both standing again.
Life ain't fair, kid. Luca thought to himself.
"P-please, s-sir, we really don't have the money," Anderson said, palms open. Luca tutted, getting tired of this repetitive conversation. He moved the gun's aim towards the son.
"What about now, Anderson? Jogging your memory on where the extra funds are? A college fund, perhaps? 'Cause somebody's not gonna be needin' it soon, if you don't stop wastin' my time."
Chris' knees went weak, shaking in place. For such a cocky brat, he sure wasn't in the mood to mouth off with a gun to his face.
Anderson dropped down to his knees, begging. "Please, I'll do anything. Just don't hurt my son!"
Luca scoffed, rolling his jaw in agitation as he eyed the furnished apartment of the Anderson's. Anything. You haven't reached the point of anything, Luca thought. He remembered crawling through dumpsters just to find a meal for him and his little bro. No home, no food, no clothes except the tatters on their backs. All they had was each other.
He remembered the first time an older man propositioned him, asked him if he would sell his body. He and Chris hadn't eaten for three days, and he must have been twig-thin and desperate, even after his growth spurt from puberty. All it did was make him look even lankier.
Still, Luca accepted and so began the string of older men who he'd slept with to put bread on the table for him and Chris. The string of anything's Luca told himself as he did what he needed to do for his younger brother's well-being.
He kept the gun trained on the son's forehead, arched a brow. "You'd do anything for your son?" He repeated each syllable of the word with intense precision.
"Yes, please! Just don't hurt my son." Anderson's pleading turned to soft wails.
He nodded his head, moving the gun's aim to the crown of Anderson's head where he was kneeling before Luca's shoes. He cocked the hammer on his gun. Chris gasped as his father seemingly accepted his penance. "No! Dad! Please don't kill him, please!"
Luca turned his attention to the son with a dispassionate look. "Would you do anything for your dad?"
"God, yes, just please don't hurt my Dad," he said, tears prickling at his eyes. "He's all I've got. Now that Mom's... Mom's-"
Luca let them stew for a moment, admiring the collective tremble in their forms as they awaited his judgment, though he had already made up his mind. If these two could show him that they'd be willing to do anything for each other, he thinks he can arrange a few contracts of Anderson to get lost somewhere.
Luca uncocked the hammer of his gun, causing the two men before him to sigh in relief.
"All right, Mr Anderson. I'm feeling adventurous today. I'll tell you what, if you do one thing for me, I'll make sure all of this is taken care of."
"Oh thank you, Mr. Indovino!" Anderson said, vigorously nodding. "Yes, anything! Just tell me what you want me to do."
"I want you to fuck your son. Right here, right in front of me."
The two men's faces contorted in confusion once Luca had vocalized his request.
"W-what are you, some kind of gay perv?" Chris stammered.
Luca barked out a laugh, tonguing the split lip his father gave him in amusement. "Oh, I like fruit from all trees, little man. Most especially the money tree, so it's either that or you fuck right here." He gave his gun a jostle. "Unless Daddy's got a death wish?"
The father and son exchanged silent glances at each other. Chris looked at his father as if Luca was a madman who had made an impossible request, but his father seemed to be genuinely considering it.
A beat passed between them.
"Times a'tickin' Mr. Anderson," Luca said, eyeing his wrist watch. He'd already been here for 45 minutes, so he'd like to wrap things up. The closest reservoir was twenty minutes away, and if worse came to worse, he'd have to drag two bodies over there if they didn't make up their minds soon.
Anderson sighed then looked at Luca. "And you said that if we do this... you'll cancel all of our debts?"
"Dad! You can't be serious."
Anderson laid a firm shoulder on his son that quieted him instantly. "Chris, from here on out, I want you to refer to me as Sensei Anderson. I don't want you to call me Dad."
"But D-," Chris started but stopped when he saw his father's disapproving look. He looked down at his feet. "Yes, Sensei."
Luca gave a slow golf clap, walking over to the love seat in the living room. He sat down to observe the father-son duo. "All right, Sensei. Chop chop! Let's get this lesson started already." He eyed the young man with interest. "Have you ever given a man a handjob before, Chris?"
Chris blushed, shaking his head.
"It's easy, just put your hand on Daddy's cock." Heat rushed to Chris' ears, turning them bright pink. He murmured close to his father. "Dad, I've never done anything like this before." Luca felt himself getting hard as he overhears the admission. A virgin.
Anderson exhaled, rubbing his hand along his son's back comfortingly. "Just pretend we're in the dojo, okay? I'll instruct you."
Anderson stepped behind his son and moved his hands over Chris', dragging them behind and placing it over his crotch. For a second, it was just like being in the dojo, having his father move him around until he had the right posture for a kata. Even the fabric underneath his hands, he could pretend it was like gripping someone's gi when sparring.
"Move your hand," Anderson's breath was hot in his son's ear as he whispered the instruction, demonstrating what he wanted with a slow glide up the fabric covering his cock then an equally slow glide down. Despite how familiar their positioning was, Chris could no longer delude himself into thinking that this was the dojo, that this was just another lesson with his sensei. Not with his father's length filling in his hands. The line of his heat bulging out from his grey sweatpants.
He continued to drag his palm lazily up and down the material, providing a pleasant friction that drew huffs of pleasure from his father. Although the hand was inexperienced, fumbling and inconsistent, Anderson's erection nonetheless reacted more than positively to the touch, the widow not experiencing sensation in that region for many years since his wife's death.
"That's it, Chris. Just like that." He could feel his father's bulge growing to a considerable degree, and Chris couldn't understand how his own erection started to thicken, inexplicably, in response to his father's guttural tone in his ear. The words of appreciation from his father's sultry voice. Chris had never found anything erotic about being instructed or manhandled by his father before, but now even he could feel the air teeming with sexual energy.
Anderson moaned as the strokes became less tentative, felt himself getting close. He clamped down hard on his son's hand to stop the movement. Chris peeked behind his shoulder, a mixture of lust and confusion in his dilated pupils.
"I'm going to do you next," Anderson rasped, cupping his broad hands on his son's cock and drawing the young man's gaze straight to his groinal area where his father covered him completely. Chris moaned underneath each tug, his body delighting in the touch of another in that area. Every one of his nerves buzzed to life as his father rubbed him up and down until his half-hard cock was fully erect.
Luca palmed himself, aroused by this virginal son writhing in his father's strong arms. The moaning, the responsiveness. He wanted to see how much further the young man could go.
"Alright, enough of the foreplay," Luca said, popping the bubble of privacy that Anderson and Chris had secluded themselves to. "I want to see some skin slapping skin, Anderson."
Chris' eyes jumped back to his father's, a feeling of unsettlement creeping across his spine now that he remembered the other presence in the room with them.
Anderson grimaced, though whether it was from the details of the request or from the disruption itself, he could not distinguish. Not with his cock standing at attention, poking into the soft flesh of his son's backside, a basal urge of release on his mind. "Alright, Chris, buddy. I want you to pretend you're stretching, okay?"
Chris nodded, tentatively eyeing their visitor from his general location on the sofa but obeying his father's orders all the same. He stretched his legs out wide.
"You're going to feel something go in you now, Chris. When you do, I want you to kiai. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Sensei," but he looked nervous.
Slowly, Anderson lowered his son's pants down, so that his ass was exposed. He pulled a bottle of lube from the end table where he kept it for those nights where the loneliness was too much and warmed a dollop in his hands. Slowly, he started to insert his finger into Chris' hole.
His son's face bunched in discomfort, letting out a half-assed hya! when the first knuckle went it. "That's it, Chris. Just like that, kiai every time you feel me go in. Keep your core relaxed."
Hya! The kiais got louder as Anderson started to add movement, shallows thrusts of his finger inside his boy to get him used to the friction. His son's hole was tight, and it took a long time before his rim could finally handle the stretch of a second finger. Chris moaned as the number of fingers slipping inside him increased, twisting in place as they scissored his entrance wide.
Soon his son's entrance became accustomed to the stretch. Anderson noticed how pliable Chris became to his touch, the wanting superseding his initial fear to being penetrated for the first time. How the young man looked like he was about to burst, a large dark spot forming on the front of his pants as the precome accumulated.
"Alright, Pops. I think he's ready." Luca said, wild with arousal from the sounds of the wriggling boy.
"Not yet, he's only able to take two fingers in him. He needs more time."
Luca narrowed his eyes in irritation. Flicked a glance at his watch. "You've been given plenty of time. Finish it." He framed his impressive bulge with one hand. "Or I'll do it for you."
Anderson gritted his teeth, furious. He hated himself for what he had to put his son through, to make his son pay for his mistakes. All he wanted was for Chris to have a good first time. To protect him from any unnecessary pain. "Chris?"
"Yes, Sensei?"
Anderson put his hands on his son's hips. "I want you to get on your knees now." He tapped one thigh to usher them lower to the floor. "And hold yourself up with your arms." Chris rearranged himself so he was propped up on his hands, head down, back arched. His father adjusted his position, so that his thighs were more spread. "Remember your breathing exercises, Chris. When I go in, I want you to kiai." His son nodded his head, floppy brown curls bouncing from his position. He looked extremely nervous and vulnerable, ass bared in the air.
Anderson inserted his two fingers again, the stretch of muscles already becoming more resistant the longer they took. He held them there, waiting for his son to acclimate to the stretch, then he removed them so that the hole was gaping open.
"Alright, buddy. Get ready to kiai," he drizzled lube onto his cock and lined the head of it to his son's rim. Chris' kiai came out more like a scream as the mushroom head pushed its way in, the tip of his father's cock being swallowed into his tightness. His father kept a steady hold on his hips as he slowly started to introduce more of his length, inch by excruciating inch. Anderson was far thicker than two fingers, and Chris squirmed in pain as his father buried deeper into him. "Sensei, I don't think I can do this!"
"Breathe, Chris!" Anderson said, as he continued to bore his way through. His son was so tight that he had to try really hard not to come right there. After a minute of letting his son get used to his girth, Anderson could feel the muscles wrapping around his cock start to mold around him. Chris tried his best to follow his father's instructions, but his kiai's turned into outright moans as he rocked his cock back and forth inside him in shallow thrusts. Chris felt so extremely full, as if he was about to pee himself.
Anderson started to slowly increase the pace, pushing in harder and letting his son get used to the friction of his whole cock rubbing against his walls. He grunted as the tight wet heat of his son's hole contracted against him. At this rate, Anderson wouldn't last much longer, but maybe that was for the best. Then, it would be over, and they wouldn't have to do this again. They would have to have a long conversation about everything, but at least they would be safe.
In his distraction, Anderson inadvertently rubbed against Chris' prostate, which had the younger man writhing in pleasure in his arms. "Oh fuck, that felt so good!" Chris snapped his hips back, unconsciously chasing that pleasure once more.
Anderson grunted as Chris backed up on his cock, bringing his groin flush with his ass. Even though it was his own son that he was fucking, he couldn't help how enjoyable it felt having sex again. For so long after Lisa's passing, Anderson had vowed he would never love another. But he didn't understand how hard the vow of chastity would be. Seeking release with his hand would never be enough, not now that he's gotten the taste of the real sin again. The tight squeeze on his dick, sucking him in with its temptation. The smaller frame of another person in his grasp, in his control.
A switch flickered in Anderson's brain, then. He started to pound harder into his son, the primal instinct to breed shutting off all rationality. He re-positioned their bodies so that he was now driving into Chris at a different angle, pounding at that same sweet spot that drove his son hysterical.
"Fuckkk," Chris moaned, as his prostate was stimulated over and over again. That sensation from earlier started to come back, like his bladder was so full, and he was about to explode.
"Sensei, I think I'm going to-" His eyes started seeing stars as his orgasm took him mid-sentence, his father's cock hitting that bundle of nerves until he felt white-hot pleasure coursing through him. The sensation pooled low, that instinct to release gushing out of him as he started to come. He arched his back as he spent, his father driving into him through his orgasm and jostling his lithe frame with brutal thrusts as he painted the inside of his boxers with his come. A low growl emanated through the air, Anderson gripping tight onto Chris' hips, as he finished inside his son. "Ohh, Chris!"
Chris was surprised by how he could feel his father throbbing inside of him, the flood of warmth as he emptied himself into Chris with multiple spurts. Anderson hadn't masturbated for a while, so he had come a lot. There was dampness dripping down his hole and onto his balls as his father rocked lazily through the tailend of his orgasm. When he finished, Anderson collapsed on his son, heavy frame pushing them onto the floor where Chris laid in the filth of his own release, the scent of their sweat and collective sex thick in the air.
Before the afterglow of their coupling could even wear down, there was a loud bang! as the door to the apartment was kicked open. An officer walked in with his gun raised.
"Freeze, it's the cops!" The officer said, then stopped awkwardly when he caught the sight of the two men laying prone on top of one another.
He lowered his gun and looked away with a heavy blush to his face. "Someone called the emergency hotline over a potential noise disturbance." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It appears that may have been a mistake."
"That's right officer, nothing wrong here." Luca stood up from his spot, which prompted the officer to raise his gun again.
The officer narrowed his eyes and looked at the other two men for confirmation. They'd hastily dislodged themselves from one another and adjusted their clothing. "This guy giving you any problems, sirs?"
The loan shark looked at the father and gave him a hard look, which prompted Anderson to say, "No, officer. Everything's fine."
Luca gave the officer a satisfied smirk, "See? Told ya there was nothing wrong here." He donned his shades. "In fact, I was just leaving."
The officer looked skeptical but nodded his head to the father-son duo. "If that's the case, then I'll escort you out."
"Fine by me," he purred, stepping extremely close to the officer on his way out the door. "Sayonara, Anderson," he said with an offhand wave.
The man shuddered, nodding his head. Chris and him were wrapped up in one of the plaid blankets sitting on their living room sofa. He hoped it was the last time he ever saw the man, and now that he'd been free from his debt, he told himself that he would never seek the services of a loan shark again.
***
"What's wrong, Officer?" Luca said after they'd exited the building. He had a light step to his gait as he accompanied the cop to his car.
"What the hell was that, Lou?" the officer replied back. "More of your underhanded shenanigans?"
"I was just handlin' some business. It was all above belt, I assure you."
"The hell it was," the officer spat, opening the driver's door to his police car. Luca stepped inside.
"You should've heard the old man, moaning his son's name like that." He splayed a hand on the cop's inner thigh. "Chris... Chris..."
The officer's thigh spread ever so wider to the touch, breath hitching. "I-I'm on the clock."
"It's only a thirty minute drive to my place. I can be fast." Luca stretched one pinky out to idly trace the officer's hardening cock. "You looked so sexy back there, Officer. Showing everybody who's boss, pointing that gun at me all authoritative like." He leaned in to whisper in the other man's ear. "Got me so horned up, I could jump your bones right now."
"I should have you thrown into jail," the officer hissed through his teeth. "Sexual coercion. That's a crime of duress. I could have you locked up for that."
"And you? Are you under duress, Officer?" Luca murmured, tasting the sweat of the hot day under the man's earlobe. The officer shivered.
"You couldn't handle it if I was in jail." He moved his palm to cup the man properly. "Admit it. You need me just as bad as I need you."
Luca's fingers fiddled with the officer's zipper teasingly, rubbing against the sizable bulge forming under the man's slacks. "Who knows you as I good as I do, huh? The way you like things. Nobody but me."
The tense silence between them was interrupted by the crackle of the officer's radio. "Officer Indovino, status update on the noise disturbance?"
The officer dove for the radio, flustered. "Officer Indovino speaking. Noise disturbance was a false alarm."
"Roger that."
"And sir.." he started. He gave his brother a heated look. "I'd like to take an early break this evening, if it's possible."
Luca looked like the cat that caught the canary when his brother got the approval. He reached down to flip on the switch that activates the siren lights.
"Now it'll only take fifteen if you hurry."