Parent Coming

"Mom… Dad? What are you doing here?"

Stanley froze, his body tensing up as his eyes locked onto the two people he had spent months trying to forget. His parents—Alpha Ezra and Luna Lyra—stood tall in the doorway, their presence as suffocating as ever.

He hadn’t seen them since he walked away from the pack life—no goodbyes, no explanations. He’d simply vanished, choosing peace over tradition, freedom over fear.

His mother’s voice broke the silence. “Won’t you let us come in?”

Stanley hesitated for a second, then stepped aside. “Sure.”

They walked in slowly, exhaling like they’d been holding their breath for years. The tension was heavy—almost physical.

Stanley stayed near the door, arms folded. “How did you find me?”

“Your scent,” his father said flatly.

Stanley’s jaw clenched. He hated how easily they could still trace him, as if he’d never truly escaped. A low growl rumbled in his throat.

“So, what do you both want?”

“You know what we want,” his mother stepped closer—too close. Her voice was calm, but her eyes weren’t. They were sharp. Cold. Measured.

He could feel her breath against his skin. It made his stomach turn.

“I’m not going back,” Stanley said, voice firm. “I’m not going to be like either of you. I don’t want a female mate. I’m not going to pretend anymore.”

His father’s voice thundered across the room. “Are you gay?”

The word cracked through the air like lightning. Ezra's tone wasn't a question—it was an accusation. A verdict.

In the pack, being gay wasn’t just frowned upon—it was a death sentence. But being an Alpha and gay? That was blasphemy.

Stanley’s heart pounded in his chest, thudding against his ribs. For a split second, he felt lightheaded. But he refused to fall.

Fear of Alpha Ezra wasn’t just a household rule. It was a culture. His name alone was a weapon used to instill obedience across the lands. Ruthless, brutal, and revered. Luna Lyra wasn’t any softer—she was his match in cruelty.

But Stanley? He was born different. Gentle. Thoughtful. Quiet.

The complete opposite of everything they stood for.

“I can never be who you want me to be,” Stanley said, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. “I won’t be another red flag leading the pack into darkness.”

SLAP!

His mother’s palm struck him hard across the face.

The impact echoed through the apartment like a gunshot.

“That’s what you think of us?” she snarled. “You dare call us red flags?”

Stanley didn’t flinch. His cheek burned, but his spine stayed straight. His eyes locked with hers, full of defiance.

“I’ve always hated what you stand for,” he whispered. “I’m not your puppet. I’ll never be that perfect Alpha you want. I won’t run your company. I won’t lead your pack. I’m not broken. I’m just not like you.”

For a moment, silence reigned. The tension was suffocating.

But Stanley didn’t look away. He didn’t crumble.

He stood his ground.

He had finally found the courage to say it—to be it.

A thick silence wrapped around them after Stanley’s words.

His mother’s hand still hovered in the air, trembling slightly—not with regret, but rage.

His father’s jaw tightened as he took a step forward. His eyes were cold, calculating—those same eyes that had once made warriors drop to their knees. But Stanley didn’t move.

“You think this is strength?” Ezra’s voice was low now, more dangerous than when he was shouting. “You think turning your back on your blood, on your duty, makes you brave?”

Stanley took a breath. “No. I think living my truth does.”

“You’re weak,” Ezra sneered. “You always were. That softness in you—Lyra warned me it would become a disease. I didn’t listen.”

His mother’s lip curled in disgust. “Look at you. Hiding away in this miserable apartment. Rejecting everything we gave you.”

“I didn’t reject it,” Stanley shot back. “You shoved it down my throat. You never once asked me what I wanted. Not once.” His voice cracked slightly, but he didn’t let the emotion drown him. “You never loved me. You loved the idea of what I was supposed to be.”

“You ungrateful little—” Lyra lunged forward again, but Stanley stepped back.

“Don’t touch me!” he yelled. “You don’t get to hit me and pretend it’s discipline. You don’t get to shame me and call it love.”

Ezra crossed his arms. “You think you’ve escaped the pack? You’re still a Thorne. You carry my blood. My name. You owe us.”

Stanley’s eyes glistened. Not with weakness—but pain. Bitterness. Betrayal.

“No,” he said. “I don’t owe you anything.”

His hands trembled now, not from fear—but from the storm building in his chest. Years of repression. Of silence. Of trying to be perfect.

“I used to pray every night for the Moon Goddess to fix me,” he said quietly. “To make me what you wanted. To make me straight. To make me ruthless. To make me more like you.”

Lyra’s nostrils flared, but she said nothing.

“And then one day,” Stanley continued, “I stopped praying. I realized I wasn’t broken. I was just your son. And that’s what terrified me most.”

Ezra’s voice dropped to a low, deadly growl. “You’re making a mistake. One you’ll regret.”

Stanley walked over to the coffee table, grabbed his keys, and shoved them into his pocket. “No, you made the mistake when you thought fear would control me forever.”

He headed for the door.

“If you walk out that door, Stanley,” his mother snapped, “don’t bother coming back. Not to the pack. Not to the family. You’ll be nothing.”

Stanley paused at the threshold, his hand resting on the knob.

“I’ve been nothing in your eyes for years,” he whispered. “At least now, I’ll be free.”

And with that, he yanked the door open and walked out.

The slam echoed through the room like thunder—shaking.

He walked out the building with anger forming in his lungs. His pockets buzzed, as his phone rang.

He picked up his phone, with anger, it was a private number.

"What do you want from me... huh?" He yelled as he picked up the call.

"Calm down, this Joshua."

At first he thought it was his mom or his father calling with a private line.

"Oh, am sorry." He reduced his voice to something more lower and lovely.

His anger still boiled within.

Rage ate him up. His mother and father words still digged a deep hole within him.

"Can we meet somewhere?"

"Somewhere like where?" Stanley asked.

" My house would be fine, am home."

Stanley let out a weak breathe.

He needed to let out this frustration, he needed to think straight.

"Send the location!"

The line went dead slient. Stanley put back the phone into his pockets.

"I need to act like an Alpha. I need to take away my shy self away and drag a better life for myself."

He whispered the words to himself.

He walked into the cafe, the words of his parents still flooded his mind.

He brought out his phone to glance at the message on his screen. Joshua, home address.

He stood up and walked out the cafe.

*******

Stanley stood outside the opulent Mansion. It was one he hasn't seen in his pack before.

He knocked on the gate, a man with black blazers and sun glasses walked out the gate. "Who are you?" He questioned with his bass tone.

"I'm here to meet Joshua." He didn't hestiate with his reply. He voiced out like a man he was.

"You must be... Stanley."

He nodded. The man made way for him to walk through.

The Walk from the gate to the main building felt tiring and long. Stanley anxiety started reeling up again, but he had to act matured.

He stood at door way, and pressed the alarm button. In a second, Joshua was standing there with his short that revealed his bludge and a singlet that showed his physic.

Joshua, welcomed him in with a smile.

"Thank you for—" Stanley leaned forward stealing his word with a kiss.

They stood at the door way, sucking each other lips as if there both lives depended on it.

Stanley, dragged his waist closer, there both erection meeting each other's.

Hard and firm.

Joshua, escaped the kiss, going down his knee. He dragged down Stanley trouser, gulping hard on his 8 inches dick. In and out.

Stanley, moan filled the room, calm and romantic. He held Joshua head and demanded for more and more of what he was doing.

Joshua, lifted his head and looked at him. " Can you fuck me?"

Fuck me? Stanley felt happier. His sorrow vanished.

Joshua stood up, held him by his shirt and walked into the sitting room. He pushed him on the bed, dragging down his short.

"Let me rim your ass hole."

Joshua didn't say no. He bended over.

Stanley tongue licked in and out the ass hole. Making his moan to fill the whole room.

It was heavenly.

"Fuck me now." Joshua moaned the words out. Like one lost in lust.

Stanley, spat on his dîçk and the ass hole. Putting in the dick slowly and soft, whispering romantic words to Joshua ears.

"Oh yeah, fuck!" JOSHUA moaned hard.

Stanley went in and out, holding him by the neck. He couldn't stop giving him what he wanted. He couldn't stop riding that bitch of an ass hole.

No lube and it went smooth in and out.

Joshua ass hole was as tight and gripping like a virgin.

Firm against Stanley dick.

Stanley moaned. The both moan filled the room.