Entry 1 - The Disaster Dad

Note: So a quick note before you read; This story is posted to other sites, but I wanted to try out Honeyfeed and see what it's like and to see if it's a good fit for my work. Constructive Critique is accepted. Also, does anyone know what counts a story as Mature/NSFW on this website? I've been trying to find something but have not been successful. For now I'll just put a general warning in the beginning of the chapter, but if anyone would be willing to tell me please let me know. I don't want to break any guidelines.

With that, I hope you enjoy. :)

Chapter Warnings: Swearing

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If you asked Seth and Carlos Jones what their father is like they’d tell you this:

He’s a good man. He took care of them well and was laid-back. He enjoyed just basking in the sun with a book and worked a simple job in a bookstore with their neighbor Leslie and sometimes in a bar at night. He wasn’t the smartest book-wise, but was quite capable taking care of his two sons on his own. He rarely raised his voice and always took their feelings into account. He’d brought them three pets: a dog, cat, and rabbit.

Perhaps he’s a bit eccentric, but they love him all the same.

This is only the surface-level truth they tell people when they ask.

A lot of people have asked.

All of them have gotten the same story.

It’s for the best, really.

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“Dude,” Richter whispered in Seth’s ear, “Why is your dad using a fire extinguisher on the flower bed?”

Richter had been his best friend for six years, ever since they moved to this suburb. He knew firsthand what his family was like, has stayed the night even.

He should know better.

“Ah! Seth! You’re back from school already,” his father, Martin Jones, greeted with a smile, still spraying the flower bed, “And Richter, too. How nice. No Jole today?”

“Hey, Mr. Jones. Jole’s mom needed help with his baby sister so he had to go home right away,” Richter said, then pointed to the extinguisher, “What happened? A grilling accident?”

Please, god, no. Seth begged. His father did not need to be touching the grill. There’s a reason Carlos took off the knobs.

“Bork got out front and peed in the flowers. I didn’t want the flames to get out of control.”

Most people would have taken this as joke. An odd one, but still a joke.

Except his dad was being literal.

It took a second for Richter to remember Bork, but when he did his eyes lit up.

“Oh, right. I forgot he’s, uh, you know-“

“A hellhound?” Seth offered.

“He’s not a hellhound, Seth.” His father gently corrected, as he finally put the sprayer down.

“Dad, he pisses liquid fire, his breath smells like sulfur, and his drool can forever stain anything it gets on.”

“But he’s not always on fire, only when he gets too excited.”

“He wagged his tail so fast yesterday he scorched the rug in the hallway.”

“He’s just a puppy Seth. He’s getting better.”

Seth would argue longer, but he noticed a grumbling Carlos come around the corner.

“Dad! I got the stuff.”

“Wonderful!” Martin beamed, then turned to his younger son, “Why don’t you two go inside while Carlos and I clean? There are snacks on the table.”

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“Don’t step there. That’s Void.” Seth warned just before Richter stepped on an innocuous shadow. A pair of gold eyes blinked at him.

“Hey, Void. You napping, buddy?” Richter asked, and waited patiently as the cat bubbled in from the shadow with a little mew. Void looked like a stereotypical black cat, until you looked closely at his fur and noticed the subtle shifting colors. Sometimes, he looked almost green or purple in the right lighting. His eyes, while normally gold, sometimes glowed white like starlight.

Richter and Seth pet him for perhaps a moment before the jingling sound of Bork’s collar got their attention. Void hissed as the husky-like dog bounded around the corner and jumped back into the shadow. It rippled for a moment before it settled. Void probably slinked to his room.

Bork was drooling like usual and smelt of ash. Seth took care in rubbing his belly, especially considering he’d just peed outside.

“Hope dad remembered to clean him.”

“Yeah,” Richter agreed, getting in on the belly rubs, “Wouldn’t want your floor burning from hellhound piss.” Seth rolled his eyes before he stood.

“You want those snacks?”

This time Richter paused, his smile turned into a grimace.

“Are we sure they’re snacks?” They both glanced at the coffee table. A simple bowl sat innocently on top. Yet it isn’t chips or pretzels inside, but a strange mesh of technicolor tentacles. At least they looked cooked.

“Please tell me those are squid and octopus.” Richter said, eyeing them like they’d wiggle out of the bowl like worms.

“Probably. Dad won’t feed us anything that isn’t from earth.”

“They’re blues and purples, dude.”

“I’m hoping it’s food coloring.”

Just then, the door opened. Martin and Carlos walked in, taking off heavy duty gloves that would be promptly thrown in the garbage.

“Did you boys try the snacks?” Martin asked, taking Carlos’ gloves to be disposed of.

“They’re not gonna eat your weird space food, dad.” Carlos said, and looked at the bowl as he tried to decide if he should just throw it away. Martin walked back in, an almost offended look on his face.

“They’re not from space. There’s no telling where those things have been. It’s perfectly normal octopus.”

Carlos pointed to it, ignoring how Seth picked one up curiously.

“Octopus shouldn’t be that color.”

“It’s safe. I promise. I did research before catching it.”

“Why are they like that, dad?” This time, Martin paused, thinking.

“I’m not sure. They weren’t that color when I caught them.”

Carlos opened his mouth, only to stop at the sound of slurping. He looked behind himself to see Seth chewing, much to his horror and Martin’s delight. He stared as Seth shrugged, then grabbed Richter to haul him upstairs.

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Richter resisted the urge to cackle as Seth stuffed another handful of chips in his mouth.

“Why’d you eat it? Didn’t it taste bad?”

“Not really. I just wanted to freak Carlos out.”

“You’re awful.” Richter cackled. Don’t misunderstand. Seth loved his brother, but like many fourteen-year-olds his mischievous side got the better of him sometimes.

“Better I try it than you.”

“I thought it didn’t taste bad.”

“It didn’t.”

Richter stared at him as he thoughtfully munched the chips. Seth wasn’t lying, of course. However, he’d been eating his father’s cooking for years and knew damn well most other people wouldn’t be able to handle it. There was a soft mew as Void slinked out from somewhere and curled up against Richter’s back.

“I’ve known you guys for years. You’d think I’d be used to this by now.” Seth snorted.

“Sounds like a personal problem.”

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The two boys continued to talk. Their topics ranged from schoolwork, their separate and shared teachers, the latest games that came out, anything, when the topics turned to hobbies and clubs.

“My mom’s been nagging me about joining a club this year.” Richter groused as he tossed an old baseball between his hands. It was something his dad had bought him and Carlos when they were younger, claiming that this was supposed to be what dads did to bond with their children. They did play toss for a while, but stopped when Martin realized his sons preferred to bond through other means.

“Didn’t you do basketball last year? Will you do it again?”

“Don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe I’ll try for the baseball team. Wanna try out with me?”

Seth had to pause from his phone scrolling. He had never been much of a sports person, but he hadn’t joined any clubs in years. He’d been avoiding it due to his dad being, well, not quite human. He wanted to avoid too many people noticing. Richter and Jole had been accidents.

Richter picked up on his thoughts.

“Are you not allowed?” He asked, and stopped with the ball to stuff a chip in his mouth.

“Nah. Nothing like that.” If anything, his dad would be ecstatic about his boys joining some clubs. He would never hold them back from bonding with other kids their age. He’d even heard Carlos mention something about swimming.

Seth just didn’t know about himself.

There was a sudden knock on the door and, speak of the Devil, Martin poked his head in.

“Have you finished your homework?”

“Don’t have any this weekend. It’s still early in the school year, dad.”

Most kids would probably be annoyed by their parents asking about homework, but Martin just didn’t realize that not every school day ends with homework. Only most of the time.

“Oh, that’s good. Will Richter be staying for dinner? I’m making eggs.” This caused both teens to freeze. Richter nearly choked on his chip.

“That’s okay, Mr. Jones. I’m not very hungry today.”

“Nonsense,” Martin said in his best ‘father knows best’ voice, “You’re still growing boys and growing boys need to eat. I’ll go let Carlos know.”

Oh, good. Maybe Carlos will stop this disaster before it started.

They wait until the door closed before Richter started to freak out.

“Please tell me he’s learned how to cook them by now.”

“He’s better.”

“That’s not answering my question.”

Another second later they hear a door slam open down the hall and the sound of Carlos speed walking downstairs.

One could only hope he succeeds.

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Unfortunately, Carlos did not succeed. However, Martin had been so engrossed in talking about a news article he read, something about a haunted bathroom at a school-turned-church, that he didn’t notice Richter sneak the eggs to Bork while Seth and Carlos ate around what wasn’t edible. At least they were mostly cooked, if charred on the edges.

While Martin cleaned up, Carlos went upstairs to talk to his girlfriend while Seth and Richter played games in the living room.

“You said he got better.”

“He did.”

“Those looked like ashes covered in salmonella.”

“I never said they were good.” Honestly, Seth was just glad his dad wasn’t handing him and Carlos uncooked, whole eggs anymore. At least he learned they were not meant to be snacks.

“You’re both adopted right?” Richter asked, his voice a bit soft. Seth had to tell himself to not instinctually shut Richter down. He trusted him, even if he didn’t know everything.

Richter’s character ducked.

“Yeah. Carlos and I are blood related though.”

“I know. But how have you guys done it – I mean it can’t have been easy. You know, teaching him human things. I can’t imagine many people would have handled it, especially for so long.”

A punch sent Seth’s character flying.

Most people probably wouldn’t. Yet Seth would take his dad’s bumbling almost hazardous attempts at fatherly love over what they had before. That wasn’t love. It didn’t matter what anyone said.

Richter must have taken his silence wrong, as he quickly backpedaled.

“Don’t get me wrong. I really do like your dad. He’s cool, if weird. It’s just, most people would have freaked out finding out he isn’t human.”

“You’re not wrong.” Seth mumbled, he sent a kick into Richter’s fighter, “But at least he tries, you know?”

There was suddenly a crash from the kitchen that caused both boys to jump. Seth paused the game.

“Dad?”

“I’m alright!” Martin called, as he stumbled into the living room, “I just forgot we had the pots stacked odd last night.”

He then pointed at the boys, though was still smiling.

“I know it’s the weekend, but try not to stay up too late, alright? I’m going to go remind your brother. You boys need proper sleep still, after all.” Martin then turned on his heel to head upstairs. They glanced into the kitchen to see one of the cabinets slightly propped open by a pot handle, but otherwise no other mess.

Richter raised a brow, and Seth snorted. They resumed the game. It went on well past the point when Carlos came down to inform them he was heading to bed. Past when Martin told them he was going to get in the shower and ready for bed, until both were too tired to keep from nodding off, Seth’s mind still stuck in a past he’d left behind.

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It was a slight jostling that Seth woke to.

There’s a moment of panic as all he took in was the darkness of the hall and strong arms carrying him. He struggled for only a moment until a familiar voice shushed him.

“It’s alright Seth. It’s just me.” He still remembered the first time his father had held him like this, delirious as he had been from fever and long before he had been adopted. Even back then he had felt safe and warm, A warmth he had only ever felt from his brother.

“M’not a little kid,” He mumbled, because as a teenager it was only natural he protest. However, that didn’t stop him from snuggling a bit closer until he felt the soft sheets of his bed. His half-opened eyes spot Richter on a sleeping bag on his floor, when he’s sure they had fallen asleep in the living room.

He barely grumbled as his covers were pulled to his chin, a hand gently ruffled his hair.

“Sleep well, Seth,” Martin whispered. Seth barely noticed the light kiss on his head as he drifted to sleep.