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Life for Stan Pines couldn't be better. It was summer again, and the kids were back to spend another three months with him and Ford. The Mystery Shack had been given a small face lift. The gift shop and gallery were now larger, and the outside given a good slap of paint. Tour buses had been coming daily in a steady stream of walking money. Families just waiting to empty their pockets to fill their hands with Mystery Shack exclusive merchandise. Yes, for the first time in a while, Stan thought this was going to be the best summer yet!
Or, at least it would have been.
He has just about finished with his last tour group when one of the families' hellions decided that the golf cart ride just wasn't for them. The little brat needed a place to put his lunch, and it seemed his suit was the perfect place. The family at least felt embarrassed. Stan was wondering how food coming back up could be that color. Making a face, he looked over to Wendy.
“Hey, man the shop would ya?” He gestured to the back, “I'm going to get a fresh suit.”
“Sure thing boss.” Wendy chirped from the register, her eyes never leaving her phone.
“Teenagers.” Stan mutters as he hiked up the creaking steps. He wasn't even halfway down the hall when he noticed the sound of movement in his room.
“Huh, must be Mabel again.” He muttered. The first year of Jr. high, did not impede on her love of bright, shiny objects one bit. The young teen still enjoyed rifling through her great uncle's drawers. Trying the best she could to hang every single heavy gold chain against her small frame. Stan gave a small smile, as he shoves the door open.
“What are you doing again this-” Stanley starts, before he registers the real culprit in his room.
The closet was open. Familiar looking boxes were strewn about everywhere. Each of them opened with some sort of knick knack laying in or around them. Hunched over among the mess of boxes, was Ford. His head deep inside one of the containers.
Stan stared, out of every one in the Shack who would go into his room, Stan felt that Ford was one of the last people to be in here. Looking on at his brother attempting his best imitation of a honey badger was proving him wrong.
The putrid smell of his clothes brought Stan back. He needed to change and get back to work. Sure, he had Wendy watching the register for now, but he needed to get back. Stan cleared his through loudly, attempting to get his brother's attention. Ford didn't respond, still continuing to rifle through the box's contents. Stanley did it again. Still, nothing.
“Stanford what the fuck are you doing here?” Stanley was more than a little annoyed now.
Ford finally looked up, and for a second, Stanley couldn’t breath. The full head of grey locks was covered by a familiar fedora. An old familiar twinge came up in his abdomen, something akin to arousal and dread.
“Oh hi Stanley, I was looking for a particular tool and I could have sworn the last time I had it I put it in here-” Ford began unaware of Stanley’s predicament.
“-But then, as I started looking through some boxes, I found some of the stuff from when we were kids in here.” As emphasis, he pulls out a few gold bangles, the ones that Ma wore constantly in her daily life. “How did you even get this stuff?” Ford's nose wrinkled, “And what happened to you? I didn't even know a color like that existed in this dimension.”
Stanley tried to compose himself, attempting to comprehend the wall of verbal text his brother just bombarded him with. He gave a scowl, once again reminded of the mess on his suit. He made his way towards the closet, lunging over the mass of boxes.
“Kids love me.” Stan deadpanned, easily grabbing another suit from the rack. “As for those, Shermy sent me off with some stuff after Ma’s funeral.” It was one of the few times Stanley took a trip back to Glass Shard Beach. He didn’t dare go to his father’s funeral, no matter how much his mother pleaded. Keeping his true identity a secret from his family was already hard enough over the phone. Granted, knowing her, Ma probably already knew, but never asked questions. After Ma died, he had to go. Couldn’t leave Shermy and his family to be the only ones cleaning out their childhood home. Her funeral was small ceremony on the beach. Just him, Shermy and his family, and Ma's senior poker group. They took her ashes and watched as she was whisked away by the tide.
“Ah” Ford was quiet for a moment, inspecting the bangles. “How did, how did they go?”
Stan stared at Ford’s hand, the one holding the gold jewelry, before walking to the bed and laying his suit down. “Ma got real sick, passed away in her sleep.” She was already so old and small, with various health problems. Even with a failing knee and hearing lose, she could still bluff her way in poker with the best of them.
“Ma had kept everything, baby clothes, photo albums, jewelry, even items from the old pawn shop.” Shermy had told him he was honestly surprised she lasted so long, as both of them cleaned out the top floor of the house. Stan started taking off his, pants, jacket and button up, leaving them in the hamper. Clad in his under wear and girdle, he was not really paying attention to Ford, an old sibling instinct of not caring. He was unaware of his brother's roaming eyes.
“…And Pa?”
Stan kept his face neutral, focusing too much on the buttons of his fresh shirt “Died before Ma, he had a massive heart attack.” Stanley buttoned his sleeves. Fillbrick was always stubborn. He refused to retire and continued to work at Pines Pawns up till the very end. “Ma rented out the store area of the building.” He slipped his arms through the clean blazer, “Used the money to keep up with the bills. I think it’s one of those “internet cafes” now?”
“Huh…” Ford replied. When he was trapped in the other dimension, it took him a some time to figure out...time. Resigned to believing he would never see his dimension again, he did his grieving a long time ago.
“I'm surprised you kept all this stuff after so many years.” Ford looked away from Stan's state of undress to the black scrawl on the cardboard. The looped words reading “Pines.”
“Yeah well, you know” Stanley explained, walking over to the full length mirror to work on his tie, “I didn't want to throw anything out until you got a look of it...” His hands stilled, realizing his admission. Keeping your dead parent's belongings for your brother who you weren't sure you'd ever see again seemed excessive now.
He saw through the mirror Stanford getting up and walking towards him, with their dad's hat still on his damn head. He felt a body on his back and arms wrapping around his waist.
“Well, I appreciate it.” Ford murmured, kissing him on the cheek and resting his head on the others shoulder. It had been a long time since either of them were in a relationship. Ford coming up from behind so openly was already bold move on his part. Looking at their reflection, they looked like a couple. He didn't hate it, but it was going to take some getting used to.
“Hey watch” Stanford pulled out a pair of familiar sunglasses from his coat, slipping them on over his glasses. “I am not impressed,” Ford joked, attempting his best imitation of their father. Stanley was frozen.
“I look just like Dad.” Pausing he stared at himself, “Good god, I look just like dad.” He said with a frown.
With the fedora and the sunglasses, Ford really did look like their, previously discussed, deceased father, and it was stirring up some odd feelings. The image of Ford as their father, arms around his waist affectionately, yet looking so authoritative. He really hoped that his brother did not notice the growing tent in his clean pair of pants. They were having such a sincere moment. The last thing he wanted was for Stanford to find out how fucked up he really was.
“Stanley?”
Making a motion to move, Stanley stuttered “W-well would you look at that, I should probably get back downstairs-” The arms around his waist tightened.
“Tell me, if I'm going too far.”
“F-ford, what?”
“Is this what you call running a respectable business?” Ford started, ignoring his brother, his voice deep and accusing, one of the hands around his waist trailed down. “Going downstairs, greeting customers and giving tours while you are this hard?” The hand palms his crotch, mortified, Stanley barely managed to hold in an unmanly squeak.
“Ford, I still have customers...” Stanley tried to weakly explain.
“I'm not impressed.” A gruff tone grazed his ear. Stanley couldn't stop the shiver that traveled down his spine. Looking in the mirror, he stared at Ford, the sunglasses making his eyes unreadable. He was keeping a neutral face, the same resting disapproval their father always had.
“Did I raise you to be this kind of man?” Ford played on, his other hand working on unfastening the buttons on his dress shirt. “Did I raise you to be a pervert?” The hand cupping his crotch rubbed harder at the emphasis of “pervert.”
Stanley swallowed, “I wasn't, I was going-”
“Are you talking back to me?” Stan snapped his mouth shut.
Gripping the fabric of his pant legs tightly, Stanley couldn't keep his eyes off the mirror. This was beyond embarrassing but his erection wouldn't flag down. He looked like. Ford looked like. It shouldn't be this hot. His twin brother acting like their judgmental father shouldn't rile him up. He could already feel how hot his face was burning. Squeezing his eyes shut, he bucked into Ford's hand, leaning his head back to attempt and mouth at his brother's jawline.
“D-Daddy.” Stanley managed to utter. If they were really doing this, they might as well enjoy it. The hands around him pause. A muttered “Jesus” could be heard as a hand reached for his undershirt. shoving it up and exposing his chest and soft stomach. The other hand releasing him from his black confines so that it could run along the length of his hard on through his boxers.
Ford was dizzy. He had put on their father's get up as a joke, attempting to lighten the mood. He had suspected this kink a while back. He vaguely remembered his human sexuality class in college. He didn't expect this type of reaction from Stanley though. The power trip thing was intoxicating but he would be a damn liar if he wasn't a nervous wreck.
“Look at you, giving in so easily. It's a disgrace.” Ford continued with his lecturing, his hand continuing to rub Stanley's erection through his clothes, if his voice wavered, Stan didn't register it. “I've barely done anything and you are already hot for it.” Fingers pinched a nipple, causing Stanley buck his hips involuntarily. Ford was just winging it at this point, but it seemed to be getting Stan off.
“The pants, I need to...I don't want to get them dirty.” Ford gave a pause, these were Stan's last clean pair and he still had customers downstairs. While this was a newly discovered, exciting development, it was not very well thought out. Ford watched as Stan made a move to try and remove them, when Ford's hand at his crotch swatted them away.
“Someone about to go into public with his dick jutting out wants to think about cleanliness?” Ford growled next to Stan's ear. “Boy, you will undress when I feel you are good and ready to.” Stanley let out a closed mouth whine, bucking his hips up against Ford's hand.
“Daddy, please.” Stanley groaned.
'Oh fuck,' Ford mentally thought. 'Oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck-”
Reinstated his fake disapproval, Ford grunted out, “Please what.”
“Please-” A sharp knock could be heard, the twins froze.
“Mr. Pines” Soos' muffled voice could be heard through the door, “are you OK in there? You've been up here for a while now.”
“S-shit,” Stanley muttered. Not loosing a beat, face red, with Ford's hand still on his cock, he called out “I'm fine Soos, the smell from that kid's puke gave me a headache, so I'm laying down. Go help Wendy downstairs, I'll be down in thirty.” If Ford wasn't so terrified, he would have been impressed.
“You betcha Mr. Pines!” Soos chirped, his steps echoing down the stairs. The twins both gave a visible sigh of relief, thank god Soos knew boundaries. The door wasn't even locked.
Ford shifted his hand, the sudden interruption had flagged Stan's erection slightly. Nuzzling his face against Stan's neck, he muttered, “Do you want to keep going?” Stan did say they had thirty minutes.
Stan shivered as Ford pressed a light kiss on the nap of his neck. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Then lock the door, and meet me at the bed.” Ford pulled away as Stan, made his way to the door. Both dodging the various boxes still laying around the bedroom floor. Ford pushed a few boxes away and seated himself on the bed. The sunglasses helped hide his nervous excitement. It felt similar to when he figured out the answer to a theorem or an unexplored area of Gravity Falls. This was new, exciting, and almost dangerous. This side of Stan, was something Ford felt needed to be looked into further.
“Um...” The sound alerted Ford and as he looked up, he was greeted by a nervous Stan standing before him. With his eyes averted from his, and one arm crossed over the other Stan looked like a kid that had gotten in trouble. It astonished Ford on how easily it seemed for Stan to get into character. It was never something that Ford could do successfully, being too busy seeking the truth in everything.
Ford cleared his throat, “Remove your clothes.” The sudden tone immediately caused Stan's spine to straighten up and his hands to go at his sides. Then, a second later, he started to strip. Taking as swift of a motion to remove and fold his clothes over the bed rail. Seeing such obedience with someone usually so defiant brought a thrill through Ford. Seeing Stan standing there, naked with his erection jutting out and leaking for him was sort of fun.
“Now,” Ford started, shifting to adjust his own tent. “What did you want to tell me?”
There was a pause in the room, Ford raised an eyebrow.
“Well, boy?”
“...Let me, let me suck your cock.” Stan muttered lowly, refusing to make eye contact.
“Whose cock do you want to suck boy?”
Stan licked his lips. “Daddy, I want to suck your cock, let me suck Daddy's cock.” Jesus.
Ford spread his thighs wider. “Get on with it then.”
Stanley settled to his knees. His dress shirt and blazer still undone and his undershirt falling and resting over his belly. Black slacks slung loosely around his hips as the stripped boxers underneath made his arousal more pronounce. For Ford, it was a treat to see his twin be so tentative. His large hands carefully undoing the front of Ford's pants. Ford had been ignoring his manhood for a while, too involved with Stanley's reactions. He held back a moan as Stanley took the head into his mouth. Yes, this was something they needed to further explore at a later date.
“If you don't want to make a mess, I would suggest you swallow.” Ford panted. One of his hands gripping Stanley's scalp, his six fingers threaded through his hair. His other hand behind him, bracing himself against the bed.
Licking up the length, Stan made sure to cover the length with spit. The tempo started slow. Stan slowly edging Ford's length further into this mouth. Relaxing his throat, he lowered his head further down, till the tip bumped the back of his throat. Guiding himself back up, creating a hard suction up the length of Ford's cock, all the way to the tip. Releasing the head with a wet pop, Stan brought his hand up and started jacking him off while tonguing the slit.
“F-fuck son.” Ford panted. He could barely contain himself as Stan focused on his cock like his life depended on it. Stan's blow jobs were a specialty of his, and his technique never failed to bring Ford to orgasm in the past. Keeping himself stoic was becoming difficult and Stan knew that.
“Baby, you could do this for a living.” Stan let out a whine, his neglected erection releasing a pearl of precum from the praise.
Ford could feel the sweat from under his hat as he grabbed onto Stan's head. Slowly guiding and controlling the rhythm. Stanley let him, more than willing to be used a cock sleeve. He relaxed his throat and let Ford fall apart above him.
The speed picked up, as Ford's breathing became labored. Stan could do nothing but relax. Breathing through his nose as the other fucked into his mouth. The lack of control, the need to worry about anything else, did more for him than anticipated. Ford was going to take care of things, take care of him. What he needed to focus on was to make sure that Daddy got off. Focus on the slick skin of his thick member sliding against his tongue. All he had to do was what Daddy wanted and every hit to the back of his throat was reminder of that.
Ford senses were overloaded. Stanley's previous blow jobs were always amazing. This however, was an entirely different species of good. As much and as hard as the scientist was thrusting, Stanley almost seemed relaxed. His eyes closed as saliva, sweat and precum dripped from his chin. Ford couldn't believe the amount of trust his brother had in him, to let him do something like this to him. A feeling of affection welled in his chest.
“St-Stanley.” Ford moaned, breaking character.
Stan looked up at the sound of his voice. His eyes hazy through the fog of arousal. At their age, neither of them would be considered cute, but with Stan looking up at him with his mouth stretch around his cock, he had managed it. The image brought Ford over the edge.
“I'm going-going to cum.” Ford groaned, gripping the sides of Stan's hair harder. It was like a knot in his stomach snapped. With one final thrust into his brother's throat, he spilled down his throat. Stanley barely registered the warning before he found himself almost choking. Recovering quickly, he attempted to swallow as much as he could.
Ford was left panting after his orgasm. Stan was still kneeling on the floor, unsure of what else to do his erection still straining and neglected. An idea popped up into Ford's mind. He brought his boot up to Stan's leaking erection. His leather toed boot brushing against the head.
“What do we have here?”
Stan let out a grunt, shifting on his knees. His erection still proudly protruding from his lap. Not once deterred from the earlier rough treatment from the evidence of it's weeping head. Stanley's face was on fire, refusing to meet Ford's eyes. The remnants of Ford's seed smeared against his mouth. His hands were still obediently at his sides. Fists clenching periodically. Ford was baffled, men their age shouldn't be this adorable.
Ford let out a few tisks with his tongue, “I did what you wanted Baby, I let you suck Daddy's cock.” He dragged his toe down Stan's length. “Do you think you deserve a reward?” Stanley didn't say a word, but Ford didn't fail to see the obvious shudder and the tightening of his fists.
He checked the clock on top of the dresser, they had roughly ten minutes.
“C'mere baby.” Ford ordered, placing his foot down and pulling Stan up on the bed. Stanley followed easily enough, giving a slight wince when he brought his knees up. 'Doing this on the floorboards was probably not the best idea.' Ford thought, looking at the angry red knees. We'll try and think of something better next time.' There was a thrill of excitement through his chest just thinking of the possible scenarios. That would have to wait for later.
If Ford wasn't so focused, he would feel the heat of the fedora radiating from his scalp. How the dark sunglasses were slipping from his face. How his sweater and slacks were wet with sweat. Ford positioned Stanley to lay back on the bed. Ford laid beside him, his hand caressing the hairs on Stan's soft stomach. Reaching over, he finds the lube and generously coats his hands, rubbing them together to warm them up.
“You were so good, so fucking good.” Ford murmured against Stan's ear. Stan gives out a whine and bucks his hips. Ford's hands roam from his stomach toward his hip. Rubbing his thumb along the ticklish hip bone earned him a yelp.
“G-get on with it.” Stan complained, not happy with the surprise sensation.
“Shhhh.” For cooed, his hands traveling lower. “The way your throat wrapped around my cock felt so good.” Ford continued, kissing Stan's temples. “Your mouth is always so good.” Stanley was shaking. “So hot and welcoming, the way you let me thrust so deep. I can never get enough. You always look so amazing.”
Stuttering over his words, Stanley remarked.“Y-You don't have to do all that.” It was too embarrassing, he could handle the rough handling, the harsh words. This though, this was too much, he didn't know what to do with himself. Couldn't handle the praise and the flowery words spilling from his brother's mouth. Stanley could feel the heat radiating off his face.
Ford pressed a kiss on his red tipped ear. “You make me so happy.” His hand finally made contact to Stan's angry erection. Bringing a slow, firm stroke up the shaft. Stan sobbed at the feeling of contact.
His eyes scrunched together. His body tensed as if he wanted to get away. The way Stan raised his hips to meet every stroke told Ford otherwise.
“Baby,” Ford coached, his thumb rubbing over the slit, spreading the slick around. “Baby, look at me.”
Stanley listened, slowly opening his eyes to look at Ford once more. Looking at his brother's face, Stan found himself staring at his reflection through the sunglasses. His face was beat red, and his eyes were watering. Whether it was from frustration of the need to cum, neither of them could tell.
The feeling of his manhood finally receiving attention, paired with the mantra of praises. Stanley was at a lose. Gripping the sheets
“You make Daddy so happy.”
With those last words, Stanley gave a wail. His vision going white and his body jerked. It was like Ford said the magic word. The knot in his stomach snapped loose and the flood gates opened.
“That's right, good good.” Ford murmurs low in Stanley's ear. He continues to stroke Stanley through his orgasm. Peppering the lost man's face with more kisses.
They lay there for a few moments, taking in the others breaths.
“That was fun.” Ford smiles. Taking the glasses off so you could finally see his partner is color. “We'll have to explore this more.”
Stanley could feel the low grade level of excitement flow through him.
“Hey Sixer.” Stan's voice was more gravely than normal. Ford was wondering how he was going to explain that to Wendy and Soos.
“Hmmm?”
“Grab my trousers, I have to get back to work.”