Gay stories, lgbtq+ stories, love stories
That weekend was one of the most confusing yet strangely thrilling times of my life. It all began on a quiet Friday evening when Mum left for her trip.
I never thought much of my dad being alone with me. It was a normal part of life—Mum’s job took her out of town often, and Dad was always the one holding down the fort. We’d spend those weekends doing what fathers and sons usually do—fishing, watching football, or sometimes just quietly existing in the same space. It never felt awkward or strange. Until it did.
It started on one of those regular weekends when Mum had flown out for work. It was a Friday evening, and the house was wrapped in its usual stillness. Dad was in the kitchen cooking dinner, his movements slow and methodical, as if he were lost in thought. I sat on the couch, flipping through TV channels without much interest. The quiet was comforting at first, familiar in the way all our weekends together had always been. But this time, there was something different in the air, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.
"Dinner’s ready," Dad called from the kitchen, breaking the silence.
I dragged myself to the table, the smell of his homemade spaghetti filling the room. We ate in silence for a few minutes, but the quiet felt heavier than usual. It wasn’t like Dad and I were ever the type to talk much, but tonight the silence was... tense.
"So," he said, clearing his throat, "how’s school been?"
“Fine,” I answered, not really looking at him. Dad was never one for long conversations, especially about school, so the question felt odd. I glanced at him across the table and saw something in his eyes—something that wasn’t there before. It made me uncomfortable, but I brushed it off. Maybe he was just tired from work.
#gaystories #gaylove #forbiddenlove
That weekend was one of the most confusing yet strangely thrilling times of my life. It all began on a quiet Friday evening when Mum left for her trip.
I never thought much of my dad being alone with me. It was a normal part of life—Mum’s job took her out of town often, and Dad was always the one holding down the fort. We’d spend those weekends doing what fathers and sons usually do—fishing, watching football, or sometimes just quietly existing in the same space. It never felt awkward or strange. Until it did.
It started on one of those regular weekends when Mum had flown out for work. It was a Friday evening, and the house was wrapped in its usual stillness. Dad was in the kitchen cooking dinner, his movements slow and methodical, as if he were lost in thought. I sat on the couch, flipping through TV channels without much interest. The quiet was comforting at first, familiar in the way all our weekends together had always been. But this time, there was something different in the air, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.
"Dinner’s ready," Dad called from the kitchen, breaking the silence.
I dragged myself to the table, the smell of his homemade spaghetti filling the room. We ate in silence for a few minutes, but the quiet felt heavier than usual. It wasn’t like Dad and I were ever the type to talk much, but tonight the silence was... tense.
"So," he said, clearing his throat, "how’s school been?"
“Fine,” I answered, not really looking at him. Dad was never one for long conversations, especially about school, so the question felt odd. I glanced at him across the table and saw something in his eyes—something that wasn’t there before. It made me uncomfortable, but I brushed it off. Maybe he was just tired from work.
#gaystories #gaylove #forbiddenlove
Category
😹
Fun