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The Santa figurine on the mantelpiece had a chipped nose. Rodger noticed it while wiping dust off the ornaments—tiny flecks of porcelain missing where the red paint met flesh tone. The kind of detail only a man left alone too long would fixate on. He rubbed his thumb over the damage, flakes sticking to his skin, then flicked them into the fireplace where last night’s embers still sat cold.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. Another unanswered text from Teagan—probably about the alimony check. He didn’t need to look. He knew the rhythm of her anger by now: three messages in quick succession, then silence for days. The divorce papers had come through in September, but she’d been gone long before that. The house still smelled like her shampoo sometimes, phantom whiffs of coconut when he opened certain cabinets.
Down the hall, a door creaked. Rodger turned just as Toodles padded into the living room in dinosaur pajamas, the heels dragging on the hardwood. His hair was mussed from lying in bed too long, the dark curls Rodger had carefully trimmed last week already uneven at the nape. "I heard you moving stuff," Toodles said, rubbing one eye with a fist. The other hand clutched a stuffed orca, its dorsal fin half-detached from years of being carried upside down.
Rodger glanced at the clock—9:37 PM—then at the half-decorated tree sagging under a single strand of lights. He’d meant to finish it before bedtime. "You’re supposed to be asleep," he said, but his voice lacked conviction. The kid had been wired all week, counting down to Christmas with the kind of manic joy only eight-year-olds could sustain. Toodles jutted his chin out, the same stubborn tilt Teagan used to do when she wanted something. "Can I stay up? Just a little?"
The firewood shifted in the grate, a hollow pop. Rodger exhaled, rubbing his palm over the stubble on his jaw. "Yeah, alright." He patted the couch cushion beside him, and Toodles scrambled up, knees bumping against Rodger’s thigh as he settled in. The kid smelled like bubblegum toothpaste and that weird, warm scent children had after burrowing under blankets—sweet and slightly musky. Rodger inhaled without meaning to, then caught himself, shifting away just enough to create space.
"Wanna watch the Grinch?" Toodles asked, already reaching for the remote. His pajama sleeve rode up, exposing the delicate jut of his wrist bone. Rodger caught himself staring at the way the tendons moved under skin like rice paper. A weird heat prickled at the back of his neck.
The movie flickered on, casting blue shadows across the rug. Toodles snuggled closer, his shoulder pressing into Rodger’s ribs. His hair tickled Rodger’s forearm. For twenty minutes, they sat like that, until Toodles yawned so wide his eyes watered. "Still awake?" Rodger teased, brushing a curl off the kid’s forehead. His fingers lingered longer than they should have, tracing the shell of Toodles’ ear. The boy giggled, squirming—a full-body wiggle that made the couch springs creak.
Rodger’s hand stilled. His pulse hammered in his throat. He could feel the weight of Toodles’ slight body against him, the way his ribs expanded with each breath. Something hot and shameful coiled low in his gut.
"Tickles," Toodles mumbled sleepily, arching away from Rodger’s touch, but he didn’t pull back completely. His pajama top rode up, exposing a sliver of pale stomach, the faintest swell of prepubescent breasts under thin fabric. Rodger swallowed. He told himself he was just tucking the boy’s shirt back down—that’s all—but his fingers lingered, brushing the soft skin beneath. Toodles giggled again, squirming closer, unknowingly pressing his ass against Rodger’s hardening cock.
The Grinch’s voice droned on, but Rodger couldn’t hear it over the rush of blood in his ears. His palm slid up Toodles’ side—just to adjust him, just to make him comfortable—but his thumb grazed the underside of a small, pert nipple through the flannel. Toodles gasped, a tiny, startled sound, but he didn’t push Rodger away. His dark eyes flicked up, wide and trusting.
"Dad?"
Rodger’s breath hitched. His hand trembled where it rested against Toodles’ ribcage. The kid was warm, so warm, and Rodger could feel the rapid flutter of his heartbeat through the thin fabric. Without thinking, he cupped Toodles’ cheek, calloused fingers tracing the curve of his jaw. The boy leaned into the touch, lashes fluttering, and Rodger’s restraint shattered.
He kissed him.
It was chaste at first—just a press of lips—but then Toodles made a soft noise and parted his mouth, innocent curiosity guiding him. Rodger groaned, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding against the boy’s. Toodles whimpered, small hands fisting in Rodger’s shirt as he arched against him.
Rodger pulled back just enough to yank Toodles’ pajama bottoms down, exposing smooth thighs, the delicate pink folds of his cunt already glistening with arousal. His cock throbbed at the sight. He stroked himself through his jeans, groaning as Toodles spread his legs wider, his tiny hips lifting in silent invitation.
"Please," Toodles whispered, his voice trembling.
Rodger didn’t need to be told twice.
His fingers trembled as he undid his belt, the leather sliding free with a hushed whisper. Toodles watched with wide, curious eyes, his breath hitching when Rodger’s cock sprang free, thick and already dripping. The boy’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and Rodger nearly came right there from the sight alone.
"Easy," Rodger murmured, though he wasn’t sure if he was talking to Toodles or himself. He guided the boy onto his back, spreading his slender thighs wider. The firelight painted Toodles’ cunt in gold, his little clit already pebbled and eager. Rodger ran a thumb over it, savoring the way Toodles gasped, his hips jerking off the couch.
"Feel good?" Rodger asked, his voice rough. Toodles nodded frantically, his fingers twisting in the throw pillow beneath him. Rodger leaned down, licking a slow stripe up the boy’s slit, reveling in the tang of him—so sweet, so young. Toodles cried out, his back arching as Rodger sucked his clit into his mouth, teasing it with the tip of his tongue.
Precum beaded at the head of Rodger’s cock, his balls tightening. He couldn’t wait any longer. With one hand, he lined himself up, the broad head of his dick nudging against Toodles’ tight entrance. The boy whined, his legs wrapping around Rodger’s waist, pulling him closer.
"Ready?" Rodger gritted out, sweat dripping down his temple. Toodles nodded, biting his lip.
Rodger pushed in slowly, the velvety heat of Toodles’ cunt swallowing him inch by inch. The boy moaned, his small hands scrabbling at Rodger’s shoulders as he stretched to accommodate him. Rodger groaned, his vision blurring at the edges—so tight, so fucking perfect.
He started moving, shallow thrusts at first, then deeper, harder, his hips slapping against Toodles’ ass. The boy’s tits bounced with each snap of Rodger’s hips, his nipples pebbled and begging for attention. Rodger pinched one between his fingers, rolling it roughly, and Toodles screamed, his cunt clenching around Rodger’s cock like a vice.
The boy’s breath came in ragged gasps, his thighs trembling as Rodger fucked into him with relentless precision. Every thrust sent sparks up Toodles’ spine, his tiny body writhing beneath Rodger’s, his cunt dripping around the thick length stretching him open. Rodger could see the moment it hit—the exact second Toodles teetered on the edge, his eyes fluttering shut, his mouth falling open in a silent scream.
Then it crashed over him, sudden and overwhelming. Toodles came with a high-pitched cry, his cunt pulsing rhythmically around Rodger’s cock, his hips jerking wildly as pleasure ripped through him. His clit throbbed under Rodger’s thumb, still circling it relentlessly, drawing the orgasm out until tears leaked from the corners of Toodles’ eyes.
Rodger groaned, watching the boy’s face contort in ecstasy, his small hands clawing at the couch cushions. His cunt squeezed Rodger’s cock impossibly tighter, the wet heat milking him, urging him closer to his own release. Rodger gritted his teeth, slamming home one last time before burying himself to the hilt, his balls slapping against Toodles’ ass as he came, hot ropes of cum flooding the boy’s tight little cunt.
Toodles whimpered, oversensitive, as Rodger’s cum painted his insides, the warm spill leaking around the cock still buried deep inside him. Rodger panted, brushing the sweat-damp hair from Toodles’ forehead, marveling at the dazed, blissed-out expression on his son’s face. The Grinch’s voice still droned in the background, forgotten, drowned out by the slick sounds of their bodies and Toodles’ quiet, shuddering breaths.
Rodger pulled out slowly, shuddering at the way Toodles’ cunt clung to him, reluctant to let go. His cum oozed from the boy’s swollen lips, dripping onto the couch cushions beneath them. Toodles whined at the loss, his thighs trembling, but Rodger gathered him close, tucking the boy’s head beneath his chin as he held him tight. He pressed a kiss to the crown of Toodles’ head, breathing in the scent of bubblegum and something deeper, muskier—something that clung to his skin now, mingling with Rodger’s own.
Toodles melted against him, limp with exhaustion, his breathing already slowing as sleep crept in. Rodger rocked him gently, humming something tuneless under his breath as he traced idle circles over the boy’s bare hip. His semen pooled inside Toodles, warm and thick, and Rodger’s cock twitched at the thought of it—his seed buried deep, claiming him. He couldn’t help himself; he slid a hand between Toodles’ thighs, fingers pressing against the boy’s sticky, dripping slit, feeling the way his cum seeped out around his touch.
Toodles stirred with a sleepy murmur, too far gone to protest, his body lax and pliant in Rodger’s arms. Rodger adjusted his hold, pulling the boy’s pajama bottoms back up carefully, hiding the mess—for now. He’d clean him up properly later, when he carried him to bed. For now, he let Toodles doze, pressing another kiss to his temple as the credits rolled on the screen, casting shifting shadows across their tangled limbs.
Rodger exhaled, his pulse slowing at last. Outside, snow began to fall—soft and silent, just like the boy in his arms. And soon, when they would wake up, that boy would be jumping for joy when he saw what was under the tree for him.