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20 June 2013 @ 09:12 am
Randy and His Dad Part 3 of 5  
Good news for all the people asking, "Who are you and what have you done with Hello-Spikey?" This chapter has actual smut and a bit less fluff!

Rupert behaves badly. Bad Daddy! mmmmmm. *cough* Ahem. Read from the beginning

Chapter Three: Confrontation

Randy had been pretty excited to find a whole trove of stuff – HIS stuff, after living all week like a refugee on his dad’s couch. But then… then…

He stared after his father’s fleeing form. A wide grin broke out and he laughed, loud and hard. There was no mistaking the deep, fresh arousal he’d smelled, or the embarrassment and panic that had followed it. His dad fancied him!

Randy straightened and ran a hand down his front, feeling the tight, firm muscle there. Well, why shouldn’t he? Randy had no idea what his face looked like, of course, but all the evidence at his disposal indicated he was one hot piece of dead ass.

And his dad was smoking hot! Fit and trim under those carefully bland suits.
Randy found a sweet leather coat with a pack of cigarettes in the pocket. One sniff of tobacco and he knew he was a smoker. His fingers remembered their business, deftly removing a fag and lighting it. The smoke filled his lungs with a wave of contentment. He blew it out slowly, relishing the scent, taste, and the sight of curling smoke. He supposed it would probably hamper his ability to smell, but then, the whole business of tracking down a book seemed utterly boring all of a sudden.

He strolled cheerfully toward home.


Rupert felt better, after he was alone in his own home with a cup of tea and a book in his lap. He sighed. This was how it was meant to be: quiet and solitude. Perhaps it was best he and Randy spent some time apart.

“Hello, Dad.”

Giles made a decidedly unmanly “eep” and jumped up to find Randy hanging over the back of his chair with a delighted leer. The tight black t-shirt gave him a decidedly more predatory look than the tweed suit.


“Vampire stealth. It’s a superpower.” Randy then demonstrated another inhuman ability by slinking over the back of Rupert’s easy-chair in a decidedly boneless fashion. Before Rupert could back up half a step, Randy was standing against him, chest to chest, arms wrapping around him. “I can also hold my breath for bloody AGES.”

Rupert felt denim drag against the front of his trousers, felt Randy’s hardness against his own and for a moment was completely frozen in terror. Painfully aroused terror. Then he felt Randy’s soft lips against his own, opening, and a quick lick from a deft tongue.

Rupert pushed Randy with all his strength, sending him toppling back over the easy-chair, which fell with him. “How dare you,” Rupert said, shaking with rage.

Randy looked shocked and confused. “I-“

“You… your own father! What kind of depraved monster are you?”

Randy growled and jumped to his feet. “The same kind as you. You were all but panting after me not half an hour ago!”

“I was not.”

“I could smell it,” Randy stepped onto the overturned chair between them. “Don’t go over all virginal on me, Dad. Happens I think you’re gorgeous, too.”

Rupert almost smiled. “Really? I…” he shook his head, recovering his senses. “Go back to your crypt, Randy. You’re not welcome here.”

Randy’s eyebrows lowered and he crowded up on Rupert. “You can’t just get rid of me.”

So Rupert slapped him, hard. Randy backed up, a hand on his cheek, eyes wide.

“Yes, I can,” Rupert said.

Randy scowled and shoved him, then cringed away, holding his head.

"Not even going to fight back? What sort of man are you?" Rupert circled around Randy and the downed chair. “Anything you think you sensed from me was your own making. You wantonly lounge about half-naked. Teasing me within an inch of sanity. You make these gestures… that thing with your tongue… you’re utterly without shame.”

“Wasn’t trying to tease you,” Randy said, frustration and anger mixing in his strained voice.

“You want to hit me,” Rupert said. He saw Randy’s fists shaking. “You want to bite me.” He struck with his closed fist this time. Randy backed up again, head turning with the blow. “You don’t even know what you’re doing. You’re a monster. A soulless, heartless monster.” Rupert struck again, both thrilled and annoyed that Randy didn’t fight back.

That thought sobered him. With an effort of will, he stopped himself from hitting, grabbing, touching. Rupert turned his back. “You’re no son of mine. Get out.”

Rupert knew, in a frustratingly aware portion of his brain, that he was being unreasonable and projecting his own shame onto Randy, but he couldn’t, not even in his own mind, admit the horrid fault he’d found in himself. He made his way to the liquor cabinet, intent on drowning away the lust and frustration and self-loathing.

He most certainly did NOT want to hear Randy crying. At his age.

He happened to glance back as he went to fetch ice for his glass, and see Randy hanging dejectedly against the wall, wiping his red-rimmed eyes.

It was ridiculous. A super-human monster should have no business looking like a kicked puppy. Still, Rupert felt a serious pang of conscience. He set his glass back on the cabinet and approached Randy, who, to his shame, flinched a bit when he got close.

“I-“ Rupert coughed, voice rough. “I’m sorry.”

“Know I’m being weak. Stupid. You’re all I’ve got,” Randy said, addressing his own crossed arms. “Don’t want to be all alone, not even knowing myself.”

“Shush. You’re not alone.” Rupert awkwardly attempted to hug him and, much to his horror, Randy melted against his side.

“You… you do like me, a little?” Randy asked Rupert’s shoulder.

“That’s rather the problem,” Rupert admitted. He sighed. “I have a theory. We- well, we don’t have our memories. The contact and familiarity that, that families develop which enforces the instinct against-“

Rupert’s voice cut off, all air leaving his lungs of its own accord as Randy kissed the side of his neck.

Rupert cleared his throat. “Don’t do that,” he said, hoping he sounded authoritative yet fatherly.

Randy looked up at him with tear-bright eyes. He didn’t say anything, just looked at Rupert with such openness and hope. Somehow, it seemed wrong not to kiss him. Just to make him feel wanted. Rupert intended it to be a chaste little kiss, a parental peck, but Randy kissed back, and clung to him, and opened his mouth, and he tasted of whisky and smoke and everything addictive and bad for you. And he felt so very nice – strong and lithe and pressing into every touch. Easy to hold. Rupert felt the power to think draining out of him as Randy’s hands stroked him through rough material and then fumbled his fly open.

Rupert chased after a foggy scrap of self-awareness, breaking off kisses with words. “Wait, wait… this… Ah!” Randy’s cool fingers were on his fever-hot flesh, making him impossibly harder. “No, wait – you… you’re very attractive, it’s true, but we have to remember – we have to… uh…”

Randy’s wicked tongue licked the roof of his mouth, and then he dropped. Rupert had a moment to wonder at the sudden lack of lips against his own when he felt them close around the head of his dick and then suck him in with a loud, obscene sound. Rupert stumbled forward, grabbing Randy’s shoulders for balance.

He should really, really stop this. Say something.

His cock told him to hang onto that thought for a minute or two.

This was his SON. This was incest. This was WRONG. He started repeating it to himself and somehow was thrusting shallowly in time to the words, which, he found to his horror, he was muttering out loud. And then he came, hard and fast and explosively, like he hadn’t since he was in college. It felt like he was gushing for hours while Randy licked it up, let it splash his lips and open mouth.

Now Rupert was the one leaning on the wall for support. Randy wiped his chin on the back of his hand and then cleaned his hand, cat-like, looking smug.

Rupert wondered how he could possibly get this genie back in its bottle. What had he done? What had he let happen? “That… that can never happen again,” he said, and was pleased how even his voice came out. He straightened. Now that he was moving again, his hands moved rapidly, tucking himself away and setting his clothes to rights.

“But,” Randy said, sitting back on his haunches. “You liked it. I know you did.”

“Get out.”

Randy’s eyebrows canted with hurt. “But-“

Rupert turned his back and resolutely did not look at him. “I mean it, Randy. Leave. Go back to your… that crypt. Now.”

It was foolish, standing there in the middle of his front room, staring at the back wall, but that is what he did as he heard Randy get to his feet.

“Didn’t you like it? Did I- I didn’t do it wrong, did I?”

He sounded helpless, anxious to please. A certain dark place in the back of Rupert’s mind squirmed in delight and Rupert clenched his fists all the tighter. He couldn’t turn around. He couldn’t speak. He was afraid of what he’d say.

There was a rustling. “I’ll just go, then. If that’s what you want. Just tonight. Or – I wanted to leave anyway. No reason to hang around here. A bloke needs his space. Right?”

It felt like ages before he heard the door open and shut, before he could relax. He sank, shaking a bit, onto the sofa. The room should look like it had been devastated by a hurricane; instead he had one toppled armchair and a glass of melting ice.

Slowly, he set about tidying up, feeling like a sleepwalker. He picked up a book that had been left on the sofa and turned it over in his hands. “A Practical Treatise on Vampire Behavior”.

He sat down on the sofa, unable to do anything but stare at the cover and wish he knew something about how his life had gotten so messed up.


Giles peered cautiously into the shop window, confirming no sign of a bleached blond head before he slipped in the door. Most of the group were gathered already around the large table in the back of the shop. He tried to sound casual, like his usual self as he greeted them. “So how goes the search for the book?”

Tara held up a small, unassuming volume. “We found it.”

“Oh thank Christ.” He sank into a chair. “We’re saved.”

“Not exactly,” Willow said, with a grimace. She flipped through a spiral notebook. “I mean, yes, we found the book, and even the spell – the page was marked and had a note in it and everything! ‘Lethe’s Bramble’. But… still no idea how to undo it. The spell doesn’t say.”

“So we’re back in research mode,” Alexander said, gesturing at the table full of books, though it appeared that he wasn’t doing any research himself, unless the comic book he had in his lap counted.

Buffy looked up with a miserable expression. “If I have to read one more thing full of ‘ye’ and ‘thou’, my head will literally explode.”

“There is a distinct lack of indexes,” Willow said. “But I already started a list of books with magic antidotes in them, and Tara and Buffy are skimming those for mentions of ‘Lethe’ or ‘bramble’.”

Rupert nodded and straightened in his seat. “Very well, hand me one, and I’ll join the search.”

He had scanned four or five pages when the cheerful bell of the shop door announced a new arrival. He held his gaze on the page, unseeing, and fervently hoped it was Anya or Dawn.

“Hey, nice new look, Randy,” Alexander said.

Randy swung himself up on the counter. Rupert saw it as a blur, keeping his eyes on his page.

“Yeah, turns out I’m a bit punk rock,” Randy said, proudly. “Finally found my real place so dear old dad can wank in peace.”

Rupert found himself frozen like a rabbit in front of a wolf, every sense waiting to hear what Randy would say next – if he would say something about the night before.

Randy said, “So what’s on the agenda today? Any plans that don’t involve reading dusty old books?”

“Alas, no,” Alexander said. “Big on the ‘alas’.”

“We found the spell!” Tara offered. “So really we’re halfway there.”

Rupert watched another black blur as Randy dropped off the counter. “Right. I’ll leave you eggheads to egg about, then.”

“Hey, we need all the heads we can get.” Buffy cleared her throat. “I mean – if I have to read this stuff, so does he. Doesn’t he, Mr. Giles?”

Rupert slowly closed his book and forced himself to look up. Randy’s face was hard, insouciant. He’d put on black eyeliner that accentuated the unnatural pale of his skin. He looked like he belonged on an album cover. “I-if you wouldn’t mind.”

“I would mind,” Randy said, head tipped back. “Ta.” He turned on his heel and marched out the door.

There was a general eruption of complaint.

“Go after him,” Buffy said. “Give him some fatherly talking-to.”

Alexander snapped to his feet. “I’ll go. I’ll convince Randy to come back.” He shook his finger, walking to the door. “It might take a couple rounds of beers, but I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”

Feeling like he was moving in slow motion, Rupert shook his head. “No, no I’ll go.” He looked down at the book in front of him, delaying the moment as long as possible.

The only thing he feared more than confronting Randy was that someone else would.

He was just about to hope that Randy had gotten far away and would be unable to be caught when he saw him slouched in the bus shelter across the street, smoking a cigarette and watching him.

Rupert crossed the street as a condemned man approaches the electric chair.

“Come to fetch me?” Randy asked, looking amused.

Rupert stopped a respectful distance in front of him. “I think that we should do our best to work together as… well, like adults.”

Randy shifted his shoulders against the back of the bench. “Oh, I thought we were very adult last night, don’t you?”

Rupert felt blood rushing to his face. “Can we just… forget?”

“No,” Randy said. “Thing of it is, you left me high and dry, didn’t you? Got your end away and then it’s wham, bam, thank-you, Randy.”

Rupert quickly took a seat next to Rany on the bench – which wasn’t easy as Randy was sprawled over more than half of it – and leaned close. “Can we not talk about this?”

“Easy for you to say. Your balls aren’t robin’s egg blue.”

“I’m your father!” Rupert’s voice echoed in the bus shelter. He cleared his throat and tried to speak more quietly and reasonably. “After you left, I read that vampires are, well, lacking in what you might call a moral sense. It seems that-”

“Oi!” Randy fixed him with an incredulous stare. “You sat down and read a book after I sucked your cock?”

“Could you try saying that a little louder? They didn’t hear you in Argentina.”

Randy, insufferably, rolled his eyes. “Look, Dad, I understand, yeah? People don’t go around fucking their kids. I’m just having a hard time understanding why it’s a bad thing, in our case. I mean, it’s not like you can get me pregnant. And we don’t know what our relationship was like, before.”

“It wasn’t like this!”

Randy half-shrugged. “Well, we don’t know that, do we?”

Rupert just barely held in check his desire to throttle the boy. He fixed an angry glare on Randy until he dropped his eyes. Rupert then spoke very slowly and firmly. “We will never discuss this again, and it will NEVER happen again. Do you understand me?”

For a moment, Randy just looked at his cigarette. Then he glanced up, and there was that startling vulnerability again. “I won’t say anything. I won’t come on to you. I get that you don’t like it. I’ll even pretend I don’t want it if that helps.” He shifted closer. “But I do want it. I want you. And you want me, I know you do. Why should we deny ourselves?”

“Because it’s wrong!”

“That’s just words. It doesn’t mean anything. ‘It’s wrong!’” Randy exhaled loudly and threw up his hands. “Poverty’s wrong. Rain during a football match is wrong. Doesn’t stop it from happening.”

They were seconds from causing a genuine scene. Rupert stood. “You are fundamentally incapable of understanding the simplest social norms. It’s pointless even to argue.”

Randy scowled. “Love isn’t pointless.”

Randy’s scowl deepened into anger as Rupert gaped at him in horror that he’d brought the conversation to such a place. Rupert sputtered. “Naturally, we-we’ve become somewhat attached. We can only remember a few days and we spent those together, but…”

Randy jumped up and pushed Rupert with both hands. All the air left Rupert’s lungs and his hip hit the sidewalk painfully. Randy was shockingly strong and Rupert felt fear and anger in equal parts as he quickly got to his feet again.

And saw Randy crouched on the ground, holding his head. There were tears glistening in his eyes when he looked up between his hands. “Why did that hurt?”

“You attacked me!” Rupert said. “On the street. In public. How could you?”

“Dad… my head feels like it’s going to crack open.”

“It should. Now are you going to help with the research or aren’t you?”

Randy slowly got back to his feet and looked pleadingly at him. “Please don’t make me. That shite is worse than schoolwork.”

Rupert was starting to worry about this strange headache, but then, his books had said that vampires did not succumb to disease. And the last thing he needed to do now was coddle the boy. Lord knew how he’d take that. “I most certainly will. Come back with me at once or… or you’re grounded.”

A corner of Randy’s lip lifted, and then he was laughing. “Grounded?’

Rupert sighed. “I know it sounds ridiculous. What do you expect me to say? Now come on.”

“Or you’ll spank me?” Randy offered in a silky purr.

“No,” Rupert said, as much to himself as Randy. “I most certainly will not.” When Randy whined, he added, “Unless you’re very, very good.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Randy said, making it the dirtiest phrase in the language.

Rupert told himself he’d had no choice but to play to the vampire’s sick desires to keep him in line, but he couldn’t deny he liked the way Randy playfully bumped against him, the violence and confrontation all forgotten.

And a devious part of his mind was replaying the memory of a slick tongue and needy gasps. It was wrong, very very wrong. But he would keep it safely locked away in his mind where no one, not even Randy, would know. And if he ran through those memories once in a while, that too, would be his secret shame.

Continued -->
( 10 comments — Leave a comment )
velvetwhip: This Big by tinkermellievelvetwhip on June 20th, 2013 05:53 pm (UTC)
Oh my stars! That randy little Randy! I love it! And poor Giles... striving so manfully to resist...

hello_spikeyhello_spikey on June 21st, 2013 03:20 pm (UTC)
hee heee. Yes, he is RANDY, isn't he?

Never fear, all that manful resistance will be for naught! :D

Thank you! So glad you're enjoying.
borzaja: catborzaja on June 20th, 2013 06:56 pm (UTC)
Never thought this possible, but you made me genuinely enjoy an incest kink story.
You are EVIL)
hello_spikeyhello_spikey on June 21st, 2013 03:20 pm (UTC)


Why, thank you.

Shapinglight: JM & ASHshapinglight on June 20th, 2013 08:19 pm (UTC)
Hee! Poor old Giles.

Or not. I mean, really, he has nothing to complain about, silly man.
hello_spikeyhello_spikey on June 21st, 2013 03:21 pm (UTC)
HEE. Quite right. There's a problem I'd be willing to have. MMMHMMM.

Butterflysnogged on June 21st, 2013 02:19 am (UTC)
I did so enjoy this!
hello_spikeyhello_spikey on June 21st, 2013 03:21 pm (UTC)
Yay! So glad to hear. POsting the rest today.
~ The Lady Merlin ~theladymerlin on June 21st, 2013 04:22 pm (UTC)
I bet Randy is going to be very, very good for his Daddy. *g*
hello_spikeyhello_spikey on September 25th, 2013 03:18 pm (UTC)
heh heh heh. Yeaaaah.

You put it so well.

Sorry for the long delay on replying to your comment!
( 10 comments — Leave a comment )