Daddy Issues - part 4 (Patreon)

I wanna give a HUGE thank you to my good friend Adam for kindly offering to write his own entries for the Daddy Issues series, guest-starring his OC "Daddy". Here is part 4 and as soon as I'm done with the accompanying illustration, the very steamy part 5 will conclude this series and lead us into... drumrolls... EPISODE 10!!! I'm so excited, I barely have the words!

Read part 1 (NSFW)
Read part 2 
Read part 3 (NSFW)

Daddy Issues - part 4

By Adam Lunter

“It’s hard for me to say I’m sorry…” —Chicago 

The dreaded meeting with his father was only three days away, and Diego’s mindset  was getting darker. He and his sister, Eva, had been chatting regularly during the last week, but  rather than bucking each other up, their conversations had transformed into strategy meetings  where they planned escape routes and agreed upon code words to signal each other that they  needed help. It felt more like preparation for battle than an informal family get-together,  though the line separating the two had always been too thin where his father was concerned. It  always came back to his father… his sanctimonious, stubborn father, and the family members  who wouldn’t stand up to him because he was the oldest male since Abuelo had died… the  same ones who thought he was el ingrato. 

Dios ayúdame! 

Diego had tried a hundred different ways to slow down his swirling mind since his last  conversation with Eva, but nothing had done the trick. Yes, it had been fun to have a little  revelry with Finn and Markus and form the Brotherhood of the Travelling Daddies, but he  knew where it counted that their new bond wouldn’t fully close the hole in his soul. He felt for  them and identified with their frustration, but even so, Diego still longed for the experience and  advice of an older man as doomsday drew nearer. But who to go to? The ground was now  way too shaky where Seamus was concerned, and he knew it. Pavel? He knew better. No  matter how big and tough the guy was, family was topic that was still too sensitive for him.  

He ultimately decided that perhaps it was just better to muscle through it for the next  couple of days. But soon Diego discovered that muscling through it was no easy task. That  gnawing need for some kind of guidance kept snatching away too many unguarded minutes of  his work time, and making the hours drag.  

Who does the resident therapist go to when he needs therapy? 

After spending as much time as he could that night focusing on the drinks and wearing  a painted-on smile, Diego decided to step outside and get some cool air on his face rather than  take a break in the humid, stinky locker room. He exited the club through a side door that  opened on an alley where the customers who smoked liked to congregate. He thought he’d see  a few people out there when he opened the door, but instead, there was only one man. He had  a cigar in his mouth, and his face was long enough to step on. 

“Daddy?” Diego asked. 

The leatherman looked up and smiled wanly. “Hey, kiddo.” 

“You alright?”  

Daddy snorted and shook his head. “Not really,” he answered before puffing his cigar.  “I was kinda hoping to chat with Karim, but I forgot it’s his night off.” 

Diego knew Karim and Daddy checked in with each other periodically since a bar  wasn’t always the best place for either of them as recovering addicts to be. He realized then  that he was going to be the one to provide words of comfort to an older man instead of getting  them himself. He didn’t mind, though. It was Daddy, after all. He let the door close behind  him and sat down next to the ruggedly handsome silver fox. Daddy’s ever-present Muir cap sat  atop his head, snug as an acorn cap. He was wearing a pair of fingerless black gloves but no  other leather items besides his boots. His white tank top showed off his nice torso and the  beautiful peacock tattoo on his left arm, but those sad eyes were more visible than anything  else.  

“What is it?” Diego asked as he touched Daddy on his arm and leaned in to meet the  other man’s eyes. 

Daddy sighed and screwed his eyes shut. A tear leaked out anyway. “It’s my daughter.”  “Your daughter?” Diego said, unable to mask his surprise. 

Daddy nodded. 

“I didn’t know you had kids!” 

“Just the one,” Daddy said. “Rachelle. She’s about your age.” 

Diego’s mind was suddenly flooded with questions, but he picked what he thought was  the most important one at that moment. “Did something happen to her?” Daddy puffed on his cigar again and then ground the heel of his hand into his teary eye  as he blew the smoke from his mouth. “Same old shit,” he huffed. “Her life is falling apart  again, so she decided to call and blame it all on me one more time. It turned into this big fight. I  finally hung up 'cause I just couldn't take another minute of it.”  

Diego squeezed Daddy’s shoulder. “Oh hell, Daddy. I'm sorry.”  

“I just don’t know what to do anymore,” Daddy said, followed by a huff that covered up  a small sob, “I’ve done everything I can in the last thirteen years to make amends to that kid  and even try to help her, but she doesn’t want to hear it. Never has. She’d rather use me as a  punching bag, and I’m fucking sick of it!”  

Diego clicked his tongue and shook his head.  

Daddy took another quick puff off his cigar and exhaled the smoke in a shaky breath.  “You know, my husband reminds me all the time that she’s an adult, and if her life sucks today,  it’s because of choices she’s made and not because I ruined her childhood,” he continued. “And he’s right, but it’s just so fucking hard to see how much trouble she gets into with these asshole  boyfriends, all these jobs she keeps losing because of her crappy attitude, and how she keeps  cutting and pasting reality so that she comes out the victim every time. It’s like… all I can see is  the product of my shitty parenting.” 

Diego’s heart sank as he watched Daddy bite his lip, hang his head, and let out a quiet  sob. He took another step closer and craned his neck up at the man. “Anything I can do?” he  asked. 

Daddy sniffed and wiped at his eyes. “I don’t know,” he replied as he crushed his cigar  against the wall and tossed it into the sand-filled pail near his boot. “Anything you can do?” There was only one thing Diego could think of, so he did it. He put his arms around  Daddy, kissed him once on the cheek, and hugged him close.  

Daddy, sighed, chuckled a bit, and encircled Diego in his arms. “Aww, now that does  help a bit.”  

“Thought it might,” Diego said as he melted into the hug and savored the feel of  Daddy’s solid, muscled shoulder against his cheek.  

“You’re sweet, Diego,” Daddy said, kissing him on the top of his head. “Thanks.” Even as he held him, Diego had a hard time imagining Daddy as an alcoholic spiraling  out of control. He believed Daddy when he said he was one, but that sure didn’t seem like the  man he was comforting, and definitely not the one his co-workers knew and cared about. Sure,  some of them appreciated Daddy more for his generous tips than his kind attention, and yes, he  was reportedly a great lay who could satisfy the most secret itches of the hosts who were  supposed to be doing that for him as a paying guest. But most of the staff wasn’t as practical  about their relationships with the man. To Karim, Daddy was a dependable, sober ally. With  Sean, who had tended bar back when Cabaret Bara was Hell’s Half Acre (and was, according to  Daddy, the worst they had ever had), he had a buddy with whom he fondly recalled the good  old days. Ben and he traded tips on shibari and suspension, and a kind of mentor-mentee  relationship was forming between them. And then there was the dynamic duo, Finnik, who  had, for reasons Diego could never really understand, developed a strong sense of  protectiveness for the man right around the time they had become an item. There were plenty  of additional examples, but it all led to the same conclusion: nobody at Cabaret Bara called him  Daddy just because it was a cute nickname to give an older customer.  

But the person to whom he actually was Daddy didn’t feel that way. She had grown up  with someone else… someone who had brought chaos and turmoil into her young life…  someone she wouldn’t — or couldn’t — forgive for reasons only she fully understood, even  though he wanted to set right the wrongs and start anew. If only she could see how much regret her father had, even after changing from whatever he had been to the man he was now.  It just wasn’t fair. 

Well, it’s the same thing you’re doing with your father, you know. 

The thought lingered in Diego’s mind and made his face fall. No, he told himself, it  wasn’t the same. Not even close. He and his dad hadn’t been ripped apart by addiction. It had  been his dad’s transphobia that had killed their relationship, plain and simple. It had been one  hundred percent the old man’s fault then, and it still was today. 

But you’ve done everything you can not to think about who he is today, haven’t you? Diego’s  mind answered back. How’s that fair? Did it ever occur to you that maybe he’s not the same person he  was? What if this dinner is his way of trying to set right his wrongs?  

Diego sighed. No, those things hadn’t occurred to him, and enough time had passed  without communication to guarantee that he had no way of knowing except to show up at that  dinner and maybe not be on guard from the start.   

“Aww damn it,” Diego muttered, realizing he and his sister might have been spinning  their wheels all this time for no reason. 

“Hmm?” 

Diego hauled himself back to the present moment and clamored for something to say  that wouldn’t give away the fact that his mind had circled back to his own problems. “Oh, I was  just thinking that Rachelle’s missing out on a great dad. Makes me sad for her.” 

Daddy scratched the back of Diego’s head. “That’s nice of you to say, but I don’t know if  I’d go that fa—” 

“I do, and I would,” interrupted Diego as he pulled back and looked Daddy in the eyes.  “I mean, maybe you were a shitty father to her back then, but today, you’re a hell of a good  Daddy to us boys here,” he went on, waving his hand in the direction of the club.   

Daddy smiled a bit. “I try to be,” he said. “I see a lot of myself in you guys, and it makes  me want to be the man I needed when I was your age.” 

“And you do it well,” Diego said. He paused, then added, “I think that family matters,  but I also think that you can choose a family that takes you in as-is condition and lets things  progress from there.” He pointed at the club with his thumb again and smiled. “Usually, they  choose you back.”  

Daddy’s smile widened, and for the first time that night, he looked like his usual  confident, sexy self. “Thanks, son,” he said, touching Diego on the cheek. “I needed to hear  that.”  

“Of course, Daddy,” Diego said, trying to hide the nervous flutter in his voice that had  materialized when Daddy had called him son. “And hey, you also have the advantage of being  very different from the kind of men most of our dads are.” 

“Oh, I sure hope so!” Daddy said with a big, toothy grin. “‘Cause I’ve had some pretty  hot sex with some of you! That may be okay with the logical family, but not the biological one!” “Hey, let’s face it,” Diego said with a smile. “So much DNA gets shared here that we  might as well be biological family too.” 

They both laughed and hugged each other. They stood there enjoying the embrace for a  moment, and then Daddy leaned in and kissed Diego by the ear. Diego’s heart sped up and a  sweet, lovely shiver ran through his skin. He took Daddy’s face in his hands and kissed him on  the mouth. Daddy kissed him back. Then their lips connected again, and their tongues slid into  each other’s mouths.  

Read part 5

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