Good Boy For Him

Daddy

Wesley likes making Dawson nervous. He craves the squirms that he gets from Dawson whenever he backs him into a corner. He can practically taste the trembling lip Dawson tries to hide whenever they're together.

So Wesley waits, palming at the tent in his pants. He sits on his bed, leaning back on one arm. His eyes are closed, mouth slightly open.

The doorbell rings, catching his attention.

Wesley hurries down the hall, stopping in front of the front door. He smooths down his shirt, running his fingers over the buttons and checking his short sleeves to make sure his biceps can easily flex in it to show off.

He swings open the door, putting on his mischievous smirk when Dawson looks up at him. "Hey," He purrs, "Ready to... study?" He asks, reaching out to tilt Dawson's chin up.

Dawson slaps Wesley's hand off, shoving past him to get inside. He looks around the house as he questions, "So, your parents? They home?"

Wesley follows him, watching his every move. "No. They work. We're alone, for hours..." He reaches forward, grabbing Dawson by the hips from behind. "Just you and me." He leans forward, dragging his lips over Dawson's ear, nibbling at the ear lobe.

Dawson turns around, shoving off Wesley's hands. He glares up at Wesley and spits out, "Back off, dude. I'm just here so I won't fail."

"Oh come on, babe-"

Dawson shoves at Wesley's wandering hands, stepping away. "Just teach me calculus or whatever and let me go."

Wesley sighs but gestures to the hallway. "Let's get this over with then." He rolls his eyes, leading Dawson toward his bedroom.

Wesley and Dawson sit on the edge of Wesley's bed, him leaning over Dawson's shoulder to point at different math problems.

Dawson groans after five minutes, "This is boring!"

"Yeah, I can tell by the way you keep drawing smiley faces in the corner of the page." Wesley scoffs, allowing his eyes to sweep over Dawson's face for a moment longer. "Just focus until we get this assignment done."

Dawson collapses back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. "I think we should be done for the day."

Wesley stares down at him with a quirked eyebrow. He reaches over to where he spots Dawson's shirt ride up and show off his toned stomach. Dawson just eyes him as he dances his fingers on Dawson's waistband.

"I've been patient, Dawson." Wesley murmurs, eyeing the pale skin he can see above Dawson waistband.

"No, you haven't." Dawson groans, rolling his eyes. He sits up, staring at Wesley. "And one time a dude said that to one of my girls and I beat the shit out of him. So watch it."

Wesley scoffs, "I didn't mean it like that."

"Red flag."

"You're right, I guess. Sorry. What I mean is..." He places his hand onto Dawson's thigh. "I want to fuck you, Dawson."

"I don't bottom."

"Oh really?" Wesley smirks, "So you're not the same guy that came almost immediately when I fingered you? You loved being eaten out."

Dawson blushes, turning away. He stands up, running a hand through his hair. "I-I don't care what you think. I'm not taking a cock up my ass!"

Wesley stands too, feeling his heart flutter at the way he towers over Dawson. "Come on, Dawson. Just try it." He grabs Dawson's wrist, pulling him with a light grip. "For me." He pulls Dawson close, leaning down to his ear. "You can call me Daddy."