Checking out the Study

Danny’s breath hitched as he made his way past them. His stepbrother’s laughter followed him into the hallway, low and taunting, which slowly turned into a muffled moaning, and skin slapping once more.

The door to his father’s study stood slightly ajar, a sliver of lamplight cutting through the dark. Danny’s fingers trembled as he pushed it open, the scent of old books and bourbon thick in the air. His father sat slumped in his leather chair, half-empty glass dangling from loose fingers, his tros undone, a limp dick sat above them.

"Dad," Danny’s voice cracked.

His father’s bleary eyes lifted, unfocused. Danny’s father lurched forward, his movements clumsy as he fumbled his dick away, and fastened with his belt. The leather slapped against his waist as he yanked it closed, his face flushing with a mix of shame and irritation.

"Jesus Christ, Danny, knock next time," he grunted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes flicked toward the hallway, where the muffled sounds of Sam’ss moaning still seeped under the door.

Danny’s nails dug into his palms. "You heard them?"

His father sighed, rubbing his temples, "Difficult not to..."

Danny’s father stood in front of him, "What do you want, Danny?" he slurred, eyes flicking toward the half-empty bottle on the desk.

Danny swallowed hard. "The notepad, you know where it is. You have to." His voice cracked on the last word.

His father barked a laugh, rough and humorless. "I did tell you to be careful and not lose it..." He leaned forward, "And clearly you did," he said, gesturing to the sounds.

Danny’s throat tightened. "I didn’t give it to him!" he hissed, stepping closer. The scent of bourbon clung to his father’s breath as he swayed slightly in his chair. "He stole it, just like he’s stolen everything else!" His voice broke as Sam’s high-pitched whimper echoed down the hall, followed by his stepbrother’s low, satisfied groan.

His father’s fingers twitched toward the bottle again, his gaze avoiding Danny’s. "Kid, you left it lying around. What did you expect?"

Danny’s vision blurred, whether from rage or tears, he couldn’t tell. Danny’s father exhaled sharply through his nose, then waved a dismissive hand toward the bookshelves lining the study. "Fine. Search if you want. Doubt you'll find it buddy,"

Danny didn’t wait. He lunged for the shelves, fingers skimming over leather-bound spines and dusty ledgers, heart hammering so loud he could barely hear the wet, rhythmic sounds still pulsing from down the hall. His knuckles whitened as he yanked a stack of old tax files aside, nothing.

A choked gasp from the doorway made him freeze. Danny's head turned to the doorway, he could hear how loud Sam was moaning, he could hear every word...

"IT'S SO BIG," She screamed, "Danny would never be able to fuck me as good as this daddy!"

Danny's stomach turned, his chest cold once more, his thoughts and feelings were so conflicted about what was happening, he needed to find the notepad.

Danny's father laughed, "Christ, listen to her," he muttered, shaking his head. "Really did a number on your friend there."

Danny's stomach twisted. He could hear Sam's gasps growing louder, more frantic, punctuated by the sharp slap of skin against skin. His stepbrother's voice, rough with exertion, growled something filthy that made Danny's ears burn, "His little dick is not worth it babe! Even made dad dislike him, he was always the favourite, that notepad is amazing"

His father's laughter died as he watched Danny's face. For a brief second, something like pity flickered in his bleary eyes, before he started laughing again, "Get out now, I gotta listen to this!"

Danny's knees nearly buckled as his father's laughter filled the study, the sound mingling obscenely with Sam's ecstatic cries from down the hall. His fingers scrabbled desperately across the bookshelf, knocking over a framed photo of their fractured family, his stepbrother's smug grin staring up at him from the shattered glass.

A particularly loud moan tore through the house, Sam's voice breaking as she screamed, "Fuck! Yes!" followed by the wet, rhythmic slapping of flesh growing faster, more frantic. Danny's stepbrother's triumphant groan echoed after it, a sound that made Danny's stomach heave.

Danny’s fingers caught on a loose at the back of the shelf, just a slight unevenness in the wood. His breath stopped. With trembling hands, he pried it open, the thin crack widening to reveal a hollow space behind.

There.

The notepad’s worn cover glinted dully in the lamplight, wedged between the wall and a stack of yellowed papers. His pulse roared in his ears as he snatched it, the familiar weight of it in his palm sending a jolt through him. The pages fluttered slightly as he clutched it to his chest. His only problem now, what would he do?