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Daddy's boyfriend

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The day Deckard told Owen, no, confessed that he was gay, his dear brother (who let’s be real probably had this all figured out before Deck was out of kindergarten) only gave him a warm smile.
“So?” Owen said, running a hand behind his neck. “Don’t look at me like this, brother. You do what you want to do, with whoever you want to. This is your life. Just... don’t let any guy hurt you, harm you or... or even just threaten you, you get me? If I learn a toxic guy put his hands on my big bro, I’ll kill him. Twice. Or more.”


Deckard smiles a ridiculously happy smile thinking about this fond memory and snuggles closer to the broad torso next to him. No man has threatened him more than Hobbs, yet here he is, in his king sized bed, surrounded by strong arms, feeling Luke’s soft breath against his skin. Barely a few weeks ago they were still the worst enemies, promising each other the most inventive tortures and deaths, now Deckard is absolutely certain the worst threat his lover could execute would be to “cuddle the shit outta him”... once his daughter is asleep, of course.

Hobbs is the perfect archetype of a lawful Alpha, always ready to assert dominance and step into the room giving everyone judgemental glares like a silverback. The man Shaw has learned to know in private happens to be a completely different kind of person. Especially that very first night, in one of the rooms at Toretto’s place, after Deckard became a part of this extended family by saving little Brian. Before the door closed they both knew they would get together. Deckard expected rough kisses, lovebites, the bruising type, maybe a few punches too. He was sure they would fuck and fight, then fight and fuck, or the other way around. Little did he expect the way Luke leaned into him and brushed his nose all over his cheekbone, his jaw, almost shyly asking for his permission to kiss. Even though he was used to quick shags and violent passions Deck didn’t have a choice but surrender to the tenderness of the moment, the gentle hands respectfully exploring his body. Luke was so used to be stronger than his partners that he had to be careful all the time, or so Shaw thought. This explained his sudden change of pace. It’s when the big agent started slowly undoing all the buttons of his shirt, one by one, that he lost it.

“Just rip ‘em off I don’t give a fuck,” Deckard protested against his best enemy's throat, kissing and biting to urge him to go faster.


“Hey maybe I like to take my time,” Luke smirked before he added in a lower tone, more sincere, “...or I don’t really know yet what I’m gonna do with you when you’re naked…”

Deck could have sworn he saw the first hints of a blush above the brown chiseled cheeks. He squinted his eyes suspiciously. “Don’t expect me to believe you’ve spent so much time in the Forces and never banged a dude... Ever?”


Luke quickly hid his embarrassment behind a smug smile and took a step back. “You don’t get that kind of body by skipping legs day to fool around with your men... so, what you gonna do about it?”

His tone was provoking but his eyes called for help. Deckard laughed, wanting so much to tease him, piss him off, but he simply promised to give him a lesson Hobbs would never forget, and the warm laughter he got in return was a good enough answer.


Luke brushes his fingertips all over the tender skin of his shoulder, making him shiver. It’s been a month already and Deck is surprised how quickly he has adjusted to this life. Dropping by now and then, more and more often, leaving spare clothes and a toothbrush just in case (old military habits...), pizza and movie nights with Sam and Luke, lazy morning snuggles. God, he’ll never admit how much he loves those!

“Morning, princess,” Luke mumbles, rolling onto his side to silence Deck’s complaints with a slow hungry kiss.

“Mornin' asshole,” the Brit purrs back. His hands run down his lover’s chest, the bulging muscles of his back, his sides. He traces the curve of his lower back, grabs a handful of this so perfect ass before holding back a frustrated groan. Cockblocked once again by these damn boxer shorts! These underwear are a real curse, always in the way, but what should Deckard do? There are rules and he knows he can’t ignore them if he wants to keep access to the hottest most annoying man ever. Rule number who the fuck knows “Always put your underwear back on after sex”.


Deck has been with several men in his adventurous life. It isn’t the first super agent, nor the first military guy he fucks. Hobbs isn’t even the first half-Samoan half-Black man to land in Deck’s bed, believe it or not! But he is also and mostly a father. A big papa bear a little too concerned about his girl’s well-being. It’s the first time Deck has to deal with so many rules. Always put your underwear back on after sex. Immediately throw the condoms away in that special hidden trash can. No screaming, no shouting, no spanking, nothing noisy. Always double check the bedroom door is closed. Then check again, just in case. And when things get heated, when they can’t even dirty talk anymore and nothing remains but the slapping of sweaty skin and soft grunts, they have to move it to the floor so that the bed doesn’t creak or bang against the wall and expose their sinful activities, even though the girl’s room is on the other side of the house, as far from theirs as possible.

Deckard slips his fingers under the seams of his lover's boxers. Despite all the rules, all the restraints, he loves every second of it. He loves spending time with them, learning to know the fascinating character he once vowed to hate forever. He knows when they leave this bed, Luke will make them a huge plate of pancakes, smother it with syrup and even add some bacon if he feels in the mood. Maybe he’ll invite him to join his morning workout. Or he will help Sam with her homework. Yes there are too many rules in this bedroom but they are all meant to protect the Hobbs family, and Deckard can’t find anything wrong with that.

He shivers as Luke covers his neck and the back of his head with soft kisses. Despite his knowing nothing sexual will happen this morning because they heard Sam is awake, Deck always feels a tempting warmth in his belly when Luke’s body crawls behind him. For some reason he can’t explain, Luke has always, since that very first time, been on the receiving end. He sure loves to take the upper hand sometimes and pin a struggling Deckard to the floor, holding his hands above his head, but he always uses that advantage to ride him hard. Yet another mystery the Brit will have to solve, not that he dislikes spending time with Luke’s ass though.

He was sincerely surprised. That night at Toretto’s, as he was giving Luke what he was proud to call “the best blowjob ever”, eliciting sultry moans from his definitely-not-so-straight partner, Deckard brushed his fingers under his balls to stroke that small game-changing area. Just to tease, press the right spots and make him lose his mind. He didn’t expect Luke to spread his legs further like an invitation to something more.

“Wait… do you want me to…?”

“I don’t see why not?” Luke panted, wiping his sweaty brow with his forearm.

Deckard smiled, touched by this confident vulnerability. “You trust me, right?” he added after a while to make sure Luke wasn’t nervous.

“I trust my fist on your ugly face if you hurt me,” Hobbs promised, making them both burst out laughing. Fifteen minutes later, Luke was gripping his shoulders, howling in pleasure as Deckard whispered in his ear that he took it like a real champ.


“Slept well?” Luke asks between kisses.

Deckard is already soft and putty between his hands. He only replies with a crooked smile then adds “Nah, you snore like a boar.”

“Still less noisy than you,” Luke chuckles.

A knock on their door startles them and the two ex-soldiers immediately jump out of bed, ready for a fight. Luke throws a t-shirt over the room for Deckard to cover himself, slips the first one he finds over his head before realizing it’s not his, and his biceps could rip the fabric in a few seconds. He doesn’t mind though and unlocks the door as they both sit back on the bed, hands neatly folded in their laps like two ladies getting ready for tea time.

“Yes sweetheart, you can come in!”

Sam pushes the door with her foot, carrying a trail heavily loaded with burnt toasts, runny eggs and undercooked bacon. Her smile fades and she sniffs loudly. “Eeew! Ever heard of showers? You guys are gross!”

“Sorry baby,” Luke laughs as he gets up to open the windows and let some fresh air in. “We both got used to Army dorms you know…”

“You heard of Army dorms,” Sam teases and puts the trail down on the mattress. “Now get ready for… deodorant!”

Both men look at each other as if to ask if they know what she is talking about, then shrug and shake their heads. Deckard thanks the young girl for her thoughtful attention and starts chewing loudly a piece of toast but Luke remains more suspicious. He’s experienced, he knows breakfasts in bed are rarely free.

“So… what’s this about?”

“About me loving you very much?” Sam gives him a wide grin. “And maybe a possible ride to the mall today…? To go shopping?”

Deckard chuckles, still taking care of that bacon on the plate. The girl definitely is better at diplomacy than her big idiot of a father! But Luke lets out a sigh.

“I… ok I know I told you we’d go soon but I had so many thing planned today, I have appointments and… I’m really sorry baby, I’m not trying to let you down but today’s a really bad timing.”

Sam purses her lips and looks away, hardly hiding her disappointment. “Okay… I get it, no problem. I understand.”

“I swear I’ll make it up to you real soon,” Luke adds.

During his long years of service and personal vendetta Deckard didn’t receive a training in empathy nor parenting but the disappointed pout makes his stomach churn for a second. He hears himself suggest “Maybe I can take you there? If that’s okay with you two…?”

Sam’s face lights up and she grabs her father’s hands, buzzing with excitement. “Really, oh... Dad can we, please?”

“Sure,” Hobbs laughs and kisses her forehead. “Just be gentle with him, ok?”

Sam was already giggling and bouncing in her velvety pajamas. “Thank you so much Deck! I’m calling the girls!”

The girls? Deckard’s smile fades and he understands, watching Luke’s smirk grow wider, that he still has things to learn.

“Will I need my kevlar?” he asks.

“Maybe a grenade or two, just in case,” Luke jokes as he stuffs a toast in his mouth.

Deckard realizes he’s got no idea what he agreed to exactly, but Sam talking on the phone rid him of all possible regrets. “Yeah we can go, Daddy’s boyfriend is taking us!”

Luke plants a solid kiss on his mouth then looks up and waves at the old neighbour across the street who has seen everything through the open window. “Mornin’ Mrs Banks!”

She waves at them like she doesn’t mind, still watering her geraniums. And Deckard thinks he could get used to it. He has to, now. He is daddy’s boyfriend after all.


“What do you mean she’s staying at Mary’s for a sleepover?” Luke asks, his left eyebrow raising in such an excessive way it becomes funny. He’s consciously chopping his broccolis like the perfect suburban dad. The quick moves of his wrists show his tension.

Deck sits at the kitchen counter. “Well they wanted to, so I said yes… didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Uh.. maybe I do,” Luke argues. “How can you choose to make such a decision, you don’t even know if she’s got school tomorrow!”

“Pretty sure tomorrow’s Sunday,” Shaw laughs, amused by his lover’s outraged tone.

“Well maybe we had planned to go to Church, you don’t know that.” Luke almost pouts as he takes his revenge on innocent broccolis, annoyed to feel stripped from his parental authority for something he would have agreed with anyway.

Deckard slowly gets up and walks to him. He puts his hands on the table on both sides of Luke’s waist and grinds his hips against him. “You bet your ass you’re gonna need to go to church after what I’ll do to you tonight in this very empty house…”

Luke puts down the knife with a soft “Fuck” as he finally understands the implications of Sam being away. He turns around in Deck’s arms and holds his head up to kiss him hard. “Okay, right, that was a good idea… very good strategy, man…”

“Who’s the best? C’mon say it,” Deckard teases.

“Hmmm shut up or I’ll make ya.”

Don’t let a man threaten you, Owen said. But these threats are the sweetest promises Deckard has ever received in his life. And he desperately craves more.