Who's The Alpha?

Title: Who's the Alpha?

Disclaimer: We don't own anything from Jurassic World. We are making no money from this fic.

Summary: Owen finds out someone isn't too happy with his actions

Authors: Hope1iz and Cat2000

Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for Jurassic World; AU; dominant/submissive behaviour; violence


Owen stood next to Claire, just holding her hand as the final boat pulled away from the island. His thoughts were racing, unable to focus on any one thing.

Worry for Blue was the uppermost thought; although he was certain the velociraptor could take care of herself, her pack was gone. She was alone. And he was leaving her.

The second fleeting thought was wondering how Claire and he would get along now that they were out of danger. The attraction had always been there and there was no doubt they could work together well when push came to shove, but there was a reason they'd never got together before this whole disaster occurred. Would that cause problems later?

Thirdly was that brief, moment when he and Claire were running for their lives from the Indominus and that... portal? ... had opened in front of him as he was running. And a man that looked exactly like him had stepped through. Only adrenaline and an innate self-preservation kept him running despite the shock. Otherwise Indominus would have had him. Claire had just run through the area seconds before the gate had opened and he was pretty sure she hadn't seen it. He didn't bring it up to her because, if he was imagining it? Well, stress did things to people. He didn't want to be forced into visiting a hospital of any sort.

The final thing he thought of was his mentor and friend Ian. Ian had been one of his professors at the college, before he'd decided he wasn't ready for more 'book learning' and wanted to learn through life instead. The older man had encouraged him, unlike so many of the other professors, when he'd said he wanted to join the Navy. Figure out what he wanted before returning to school. And he had been one of the few people Owen had kept in contact with during his enlistment or contacted when discharging from the navy. He found himself wishing he'd listened to the older man.

About two years previous...
"So... I have the papers to apply to school again. I've also got this job offer... it looks really interesting. I'll be training some highly dangerous animals..." Owen said quietly, sipping on his beer as he sat next to his friend and stared at the setting sun from Ian's back porch.

Ian leaned back in his seat next to Owen and raised his eyebrows as he sipped from his own beer. "That's a different line of work for you," he commented. "What kind of animals are they asking you to train?"

"That's just it..." Owen laughed uncertainly. "...They say they need me to help them raise some babies from some...hybrid genetic engineering. They'll be pack animals and they want me to quickly imprint them so I'm the Alpha... It's one of the reasons they need an answer really soon." He glanced at Ian, almost nervously. He knew of Ian's past with Isla Nublar and Isla Sorna.

Ian didn't need to ask for further information to realize just what the younger man was referring to. He shook his head. "They want you to work with dinosaurs, don't they? I know this goes against your nature of dangerous, impulsive actions, but I would suggest you don't take this job." He paused. "I would strongly suggest you don't take it."

"It pays a lot of money. Even with the GI Bill, I'd still need to pay for food and such..." Owen said, in what he felt was a reasonable tone of voice. "And if I'm training them from baby...well, it's kinda like what I did in the navy; training the dolphins and all... You know that, contrary to their friendly, playful reputations, dolphins can be some really mean Mofo's!" He grinned crookedly as he tried to derail what he was afraid would be a lecture. He hadn't made up his mind yet, hence him mentioning it to Ian, but the allure of being able to train a predator like a velociraptor? It appealed to his ego and his danger-seeking side immensely. Who was he kidding? He'd already made the decision. He'd just been hoping that maybe Ian would say he was doing the right thing and ease any lingering doubt he had. He should have known that wasn't going to happen.

"Dolphins aren't natural predators of humans." Ian shook his head. "This is a mistake, Owen. I don't fully believe you realize just how much danger you'd be putting yourself in." Setting his beer down, he continued, "If you go through with this, I should just take you over my knee now. Pre-empt the chances you're bound to take with your life."

Owen laughed at that. "Yeah, dad. Maybe you should. Just get it out of the way, since you know I'm going to do at least one thing that gets under your skin..." he teased in response to Ian's joke. "I haven't given them an answer yet..." he said softly, taking another sip of his beer. He planned to send a response as soon as he returned to his apartment, but he figured he wanted this afternoon to be stress-free and fun and if Ian was worried about him taking the job, the older man would be stressed and not having fun. So… he left him to think he would continue to think about it. Of course, it wouldn't take much for Ian to realize he'd been misdirected once Owen sent him a letter saying he'd taken the job and was on his way; but by then, it would be too late for Ian to try and change his mind and maybe...

Ian had heard that Owen had returned and while he'd thought about calling up the younger man, he didn't want to give Owen an excuse to fob him off. He made a few calls and checked up on where exactly Owen was based and drove out to see his friend.

Owen measured carefully, then measured again, then measured a third time before he finally began to cut the piece of wood he needed to finish this part of the frame. The building was going slow; but that was to be expected when you did it all on your own with no help. He'd been at it since approximately a week after they'd returned to the states, when it had quickly become clear that he and Claire would not be getting along. She had contacted her bosses nearly immediately after getting stateside and begun work on trying to salvage what little was left of their 'product'. He refused to get roped into their future plans and thought she was crazy for doing so herself; had told her as much. That and his tendency to need to be in control of everything they did led to him driving off and her not waving at him in the rearview mirror.

One thing being alone had done, it'd left him a lot of time to think. To realize that he had no clue what he wanted to do with his life. "Shoulda gone back to school after discharge." He sighed to himself as the piece he was cutting fell to the floor with a clatter. Turning off the saw, he picked up the board and his hammer and carried it over to the area he was currently working on, carefully holding it in place while he stuck a few nails into his mouth and then held one against the board and began to hit it with the iron head. He ignored the sounds of a car driving. It was probably just one of his neighbors.

Ian pulled up outside the building Owen was working on, parking within clear view before getting out and walking towards it. As soon as he could speak without needing to shout, he did. "You didn't tell me you'd got back." He'd had to hear it from a mutual friend.

Owen missed the nail and only barely managed to keep from smashing his thumb completely, jerking it out of the way at the last minute and dropping the nail, spitting the nails in his mouth out before he accidently ate one. "Mother f..." He blinked and gave Ian a deer in the headlights look, shaking his hand faintly (he had managed to graze his fingers, even if he hadn't smashed them). "Ian! Aren't you 'sposed to be teaching? On the other side of the country?" He ignored the chide about not making contact. He'd meant to. He truly had. He just didn't know what to say. The last time they'd talked, he'd led Ian to believe he would consider his opinion before making any decisions; and then promptly accepted the job offer as soon as he'd returned home and was gone the next day. It was a shitty way to treat a friend and he honestly wasn't sure he had the right to contact Ian, once he'd returned stateside with his tail between his legs.

"I have vacation time." Ian walked over to Owen. "Let me see your hand." His voice was calm and level, but his eyes were scanning over every inch of his friend's body. Checking for wounds or signs of any damage, whether emotional or physical.

Owen obediently held out his hand, not even thinking of arguing with the older man. He knew this was about more than making sure he hadn't hurt himself just now; Ian needed to be certain he was okay after what had happened on the island. It had made international news, after all. Despite trying to stay out of the way of TV cameras, he'd still got caught by a few and he knew he'd looked like something a T-Rex had tried to chomp on and spit out. Or, more accurately, an Indominus Rex. "If you want a more thorough examination, we'll have to go to my car or risk arrest for indecent exposure..." he snarked jokingly.

Ian carefully checked Owen's fingers, making sure the hammer hadn't caused any damage. "We can go to my car or to yours. Which would you rather?" He answered the comment seriously, as he fully intended to not only check over Owen...but also follow through with what he'd said to the younger man before Owen had left.

Owen blinked. "I was jokin', Ian!" he protested half-heartedly. He figured after the way he'd snuck off like a coward, he owed the man something and if Ian needed to check him over and be assured of his well-being, then he'd suffer it. Sighing softly, shoulders slumping, he used the hand Ian wasn't holding onto to motion toward his van. "Van is bigger. Been living in it. It has a decent light, so it'd prolly make it easier for ya..."

"Do you have a first aid kit there?" Ian asked, beginning to head towards the van. If nothing else, he'd at least be able to treat the grazes.

"Yeah..." Owen looked at Ian curiously. "...But the hammer didn't break skin. Well, not much anyway. And I've been back from the island long enough for everything else to have scabbed over and scarred weeks ago..." He winced as he realized that probably wasn't the best thing to say if he wanted to keep his friend calm.

It took him several deep breaths, but Ian managed to remain calm as he climbed into the van with Owen, checking with him where the first aid kit was and retrieving it. "Whether you think they're scabbed over or not, I want to check the injuries. And you should have called me, Owen." He shook his head. "I'm starting to think I should have taken you over my knee a whole lot sooner."

Owen laughed outright at that. "Yeah. Maybe if ya'd tanned my ass, I woulda listened to your advice and turned down the offer..." He snorted faintly. Why Ian found it so much fun to joke about making it hard for him to sit, he wasn't sure; but if Ian was joking with him, then maybe he hadn't completely ruined his friendship with the man. "...Course...then I'd have never met Charlie and Echo and Delta... or Blue..." His voice was a trifle sad with the last remark. As much as he regretted ever taking InGen's offer, he couldn't regret his girls. It wasn't their fault they were bred by mad scientists. And they'd died to protect him in the end. He let out a tiny sigh and began to shuck his clothing. If Ian was serious about wanting to check over his injuries, it would be easier if he was in a tank and shorts and if he was undressing in front of Ian in-order to put those on, he may as well just stay in his skivvies.

Ian waited until Owen was naked and then began to check him over. "The news reports only said so much. What happened to you?" he asked, primarily to distract himself from the sight of the scars on his friend's body.

"Not entirely sure... I mean... I know the general idea of what happened... but I can't tell you for each specific cut, bruise or scratch..." Owen wrinkled his nose thoughtfully. "Was being chased by a highly intelligent Rex hybrid that hunted for sport... she hunted for sport!" If Owen sounded miffed about that, it was because he was. What the scientists had done. It was beyond the pale. "Anyway... Had a flying thing attack me, so some of the wounds were from its claws as it tried to lift me up and carry me off to eat..." He bit his lip and looked at Ian, wondering if he should be as open and honest as he was currently being. If it would upset the man more.

Ian frowned, even as he continued to check over Owen's wounds. His touch was gentle, but he was obviously affected by the scars. "You could have been killed several times over. I told you not to take the job. I know you gained things from it, but the rewards didn't outweigh the risk and you might not have come home." He'd finished checking over his friend and now stood back slightly. "You're right. I should have 'tanned your ass' back then. But I'm going to act now."

Owen blinked owlishly, uncomprehending, before he laughed nervously. That didn't sound like a joke. "...Seriously? Ian... I know I screwed up, sneaking off and ignoring your advice, but I was just joking about the ass tanning... Like you were..." His voice trailed off uncertainly.

"You've been acting like you have a death wish, all of the dangerous stunts you've been doing," Ian replied. "This isn't the first time I've felt someone needs to step in with you. I was serious about what I think you need to keep you behaving, but I didn't want to chase you off. Only it seems I've done that anyway, so what more do I have to lose?"

Owen gave his friend a stricken look at his words. "...You didn't! You didn't chase me off!" Owen finally found his voice enough to disagree. "... I ran because I... I was ashamed and too much of a coward to face you after what I'd done..." he finally admitted, unable to face his friend.

"You've been back for months. I had to find out through another friend you were home," Ian said quietly. "I only knew you were alive because of the news reports, otherwise I would have assumed you'd been lost."

"Told you I was being a cowardly little shit... I would still be being one if you hadn't come looking for me..." Owen whispered. It was hard to admit. Harder still to realize what his actions had done to his friend.

Swallowing hard, he finally faced Ian. "I know you probably won't believe a thing I tell you after everything I've done wrong in this whole mess... but I never wanted to hurt you. You're one of my best friends... More than that, if I'm honest. You're my mentor and the person whose opinion matters so much I... I had to sneak out to do what I wanted, cuz I knew if you told me not go a second time, I'd listen to you..."

Owen's shoulders slumped, and he took a slow breath. "The person whose opinion matters so much, I was a coward; afraid to face you and accept the lecture, or worse, I knew I deserved... because if I faced you and you did nothing, it would mean I'd lost you for good and it was my own fault..." Owen swallowed again. "You're right. I deserve to be tanned... Deserve to have my butt blistered till I can't walk straight. And if that's what you plan to do... I won't fight you..."

Ian moved closer to Owen and squeezed his friend's shoulder. "I didn't tell you not to take the job because I was trying to control you. I knew it was dangerous. You knew I'd had firsthand experience with the dinosaurs. If someone has more experience than you in a field and advises you not to do something, you know that listening to that person is the right course of action." He clasped Owen's opposite shoulder with his other hand. "I was terrified for your safety when I saw those news reports and knew how much danger you were in."

Owen blinked back sudden tears. "You'd think at my age, I'd have remembered something that simple." He slumped further. "I'm sorry I worried... Scared you so badly."

Ian drew Owen into a tight hug. "You're perhaps one of my closest friends and a person I care about a great deal," he said. "I look on you like a son. Of course I was worried and scared for your safety."

"Just makes my cowardice worse..." Owen muttered against Ian's shoulder as he returned the hug as strongly as he was able, his state of dress not noticed in the least.

Ian held Owen a bit longer and a bit tighter; like he'd wanted to do when seeing those news reports. "I thought I might lose you when I saw what was happening. Putting yourself in that kind of danger is not acceptable, son. Neither is lying to me or hiding from me. But we're going to deal with those actions now."

Owen might have been able to remain stoic if it hadn't been for Ian calling him son. That and the tone of the older man's voice gave away how his actions had hurt his friend. He gave in and submitted immediately, just hoping if he didn't fight, if he accepted whatever Ian decided, maybe he could get that hurt tone to leave his friend's voice. "Where do you want me?" he asked hoarsely.

Ian held him for a few more moments and then sat down on the floor in the van, drawing Owen down across his lap and holding the younger man there with an arm wrapped around his waist before he quickly divested Owen of his underwear, baring him completely.

Owen closed his eyes tightly, trying to find something to grip so he could hold himself still, but there wasn't anything. Finally giving up, he twisted his arms around behind his back and held onto his own hands. He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry," he repeated solemnly.

"I know, son." Ian grasped the younger man's hands, even as his lifted his hand and brought it down in the first hard smack that he then repeated.

Owen didn't attempt to keep from making sound. He grunted with the first swat, letting out tiny hisses and whimpers as Ian continued. It didn't take long for his eyes to tear up, the guilt he felt at hurting his mentor making it impossible to contain his emotions.

Ian continued the swats down to Owen's thighs and then began again from the top. Partway through the second circuit, he began to speak. "I care about you a great deal, Owen. You are an important part of my life and you owe me more respect than the past several months have demonstrated."

"Yessir..." Owen gasped out. "I do... Owe you so much. You... You're family. I was... Was so disrespectful... I'm so sorry..."

Starting a third circuit of swats, Ian began swatting a fraction harder and faster. "You shouldn't have let me believe you'd do something only to then do the direct opposite. And certainly not when that led to you in a dangerous situation. You could have been killed." Emotion turned his voice hoarse as he remembered that fear...the terror for Owen's safety; the near certainty that he was going to lose his son.

"I was wrong... In so many ways... I never meant to hurt you... I'm sorry, sir... Sorrier than I have a right to be... Please forgive me..." Owen choked on his words at the end, the tears pooling in his eyes finally spilling down his face. He began to quietly but vocally cry.

Ian squeezed his hands when he heard the tears. "I forgive you, son. Of course, I do. You are such an important part of my life." He finished with a final flurry of swats to Owen's sit spots and thighs and then helped the younger man up, so he could hug him tightly.

"I'm sorry, sir... so sorry... you're... You're my... my dad. I should have been honest and listened... and not run like a coward...I'm sorry...!" Owen latched onto Ian and held tightly. He'd been afraid to face him before. Now he was afraid to let go.

Ian wrapped his arms tightly around Owen, hugging the younger man close to himself. "I'm so glad you're safe," he whispered, the tightness of his embrace making it even clearer just how terrified he'd been.

"I... I remembered everything you taught me. It kept me safer than I would have been..." Owen finally regained control over his emotions, but he didn't let go of Ian. "I missed you so much..."

Tightening his embrace, Ian said softly, "I missed you as well. I worried about you the whole time you were gone."

"Really did deserve to be tanned, after doing that to you..." Owen said softly, allowing himself to snuggle. "Where are you staying the night?" he asked hesitantly.

"I haven't arranged anything yet," Ian admitted. "Seeing you was my first priority."

"I been sleeping in the van..." Owen admitted. "But I think I could swing a hotel room, if you wanna stick round a few days..." He tried not to sound too hopeful, but he couldn't keep his tone neutral.

Ian smiled and stroked Owen's hair. "It doesn't have to just be a few days. I can transfer to this area. Be closer to you."

"You'd do that? After what I did?" Owen glanced up. "I know you forgive me, but uprooting your whole entire life... Doesn't seem fair of me to ask. I don't even have a job right now... This piece of land was part of a 'severance' package when I told InGen I quit. I could finish the house then sell it... Move closer to you..." he whispered. It was left unsaid that it would take several months at home to accomplish that. He was building himself because hiring anyone took more money that he had. That and it was therapy of sorts for what he'd experienced.

Ian tightened his embrace. "I want to be closer to you, son. Maybe I can help you build the house and then we can live here together?" he suggested. In his heart, he'd already adopted Owen. He wanted to be close to his son.

"Yeah? That'd be... Great. I'd like that..." Owen smiled, relaxing against Ian, almost snuggling, as he realized not only was he truly forgiven, but he wouldn't have to say goodbye to the other man.

Ian tightened his embrace. "I have most of what I need in my car. The rest, I can get sent here when we're settled."

Owen nodded. "I wasn't lying about living in my van..." He rubbed his head sheepishly. "Got a port-a-potty and I rigged up a portable shower in an area where it won't bother the neighbors... Been living off of PB and J..." He gave Ian a hesitant glance, not sure if Ian would want to rough it that much... Not to mention it wasn't exactly the healthiest way to live. He'd probably be better off at a campground, where at least people expected you to shower outside and were less likely to call the police.

"Well, you mentioned a hotel," Ian commented. "I've got some money. We can find one close by. Stay there. Work on the house together and I'll look at transferring to this area for the classes I give."

"You shouldn't have to pay for me..." Owen blushed, slumping in shame that he'd need monetary help. Most of his bank account had gone towards the medical bills he'd racked up. And the legal ones, since InGen had sued him for breach of contract when he'd quit their employee. He'd been lucky that he'd got a good lawyer and public opinion was against the company. They'd finally backed off and given him the land (although not the money he was supposed to have received originally) from the severance package. Swallowing his pride, he admitted his situation to Ian. The man should know he was attaching himself to a broke, jobless, rudderless loser before he actually did it.

"I told you." Ian squeezed his shoulder. "As far as I'm concerned, you're my son. I'll pay for you. Look out for you. I want to. I'd actually planned to ask you about moving in with me before you left," he added.

"Feels like I'm a failure...running home to daddy with my tail between my legs..." Owen said tiredly, slumping down and letting his head fall on to Ian's shoulder.

"It's only until you get your feet under you again," Ian said. "We'll be together. Is that what you want too?"

Owen took a slow breath, then nodded, his head still on Ian's shoulder. "Yeah. I want that..." he said quietly. "...Want it more 'n anything."

"Good, because you're my boy," Ian said. "No joking around. Completely serious. I felt that way before you even left. I'm more certain of it now."

Owen shifted slightly. "That would explain the 'you better listen to what he say's 'n obey' vibe I got from you before I decided sneaking off was a good idea..." He smiled crookedly. "...Was kinda expecting the ass whooping to hurt more..." He snorted faintly.

Ian let his hand rub gently over Owen's back. "It's the first time I've taken you over my knee. I don't expect it'll be the last."

Owen chuckled. "So, the next time will hurt more? That what you're telling me?" He grinned up at Ian, his head still pressed against his shoulder.

"Depends on what you do," Ian answered, letting his fingers thread through Owen's hair. "Dangerous behaviour will get you a firmer spanking."

Owen shrugged. "Guess I'm safe, then. Not too much danger in building a house..." Owen shifted again.

"Just as well, since the next time, I'll follow through with what I promise," Ian commented.

Owen snorted. "I should have my head examined. That promise doesn't offend or upset me in the least... Kinda worries me. I've done a lotta stupid shit when you aren't round to watch..."

"You've done a lot that I have seen, too," Ian replied. "I'm not expecting turning you over my knee to be a one-time thing."

Owen laughed at that. "Gee, thanks, Dad. Nice to know you expect me to be bad..." he teased. He had a feeling Ian was right.

"I don't expect you to be bad," Ian said. "But doing things you shouldn't will only get you punished. It won't get me to turn my back on you."

"If you didn't turn your back on me when I ran and avoided you...I don't expect you to abandon me when I screw up. And I know I will..." Owen glanced down before huffing. "I should prolly get dressed again. 'Less you need to check me a bit more..."

"I think I checked you over thoroughly enough," Ian commented. "But if there is a next time with dangerous stunts, I will be checking you over again."

Owen blinked at that. "Even if I don't get hurt?"

"Are you likely to tell me if you get hurt?" Ian asked calmly.

Owen opened his mouth, then paused. "Yeah..." He sighed and slumped. "Prolly not so much, if I think I can hide it..." he reluctantly admitted.

Ian nodded. "So, I'll check you over. Satisfy myself that my son is safe."

"Yes, sir... You will." It didn't take much for Owen to agree. Life was full of those in charge and those who followed. If he had been the raptors' alpha, Ian was his.

"Get dressed, son," Ian said gently. "I'll find a suitable hotel for us to stay in."

"Okay..." Owen paused, as if wanting to say something else, but smiled crookedly instead. He pulled up his underwear, then gathered his other clothes and put them on.

While Owen was doing that, Ian made a few calls and it didn't take him long to find a suitable hotel they could stay in together.

Owen looked at Ian curiously. "Got a place?" he asked. "And are we heading there now?"

Ian nodded. "It's not far from here. We can go there now unless you want to work on the house for a bit longer."

"I been working on it sixteen hours a day, every day, for the last three weeks. I can take some time..." Owen smiled hesitantly, not sure how Ian would feel about that information.

"Hearing that, even if you tried to insist you were fine, I'd insist you take some time off." Ian wrapped his arm around Owen's shoulders, so he could guide the younger man out of the van.

"We taking your car, then?" Owen let himself be led. "Just let me lock everything up..."

Ian nodded. "Do you need to grab anything to bring?"

"Prolly should grab my bag. It has my clothes. I'll get it out of the van when I lock up my tools in it..." Owen smiled. "I'll be right back..." He gave Ian a tight hug, then went to the house and gathered anything he didn't want stolen. It didn't take long and soon, those items were locked in his van, his bag in hand.

Ian waited by his car for Owen to join him, giving the younger man a warm smile as he then got in the driver's seat.

Owen got into the passenger side and buckled his seatbelt without prompting. "So how long a break do you plan for me to take?"

"I'm going to see how you do, but I'm thinking at least a couple of days," Ian answered, as he buckled himself in and began driving.

"A couple of days sounds good... Sir..." Owen smiled.

Ian nodded. "We can also take the opportunity to decide what else we'd like to do, after the house is finished."

"That sounds even better..." Owen grinned and leaned back.

"You can sleep if you need to," Ian said. "I'll wake you when we get there."

"If I can't stay awake the few minutes it takes to reach the hotel, I'm in sad shape..." Owen huffed in amusement. And then promptly yawned.

"You told me you've been working sixteen-hour days," Ian pointed out. "I think you need to sleep."

"If I fall asleep now, you may not wake me up when we get there..." Owen finally admitted. "...Unless you plan on carrying me into the room or leaving me in the car, that's not a good idea."

"I can carry you inside, son," Ian said. "You need the sleep."

"So, it's an order then, old man?" Owen's joking tone was serious underneath.

"Yeah, son. It's an order," Ian replied.

Owen blinked, then nodded. "Yeah. Okay." He leaned the seat back further, sliding down and closing his eyes. It didn't take long at all before he was snoring.

Ian drove to the hotel, parking and then getting out of the car. Walking round to the passenger door, he opened it, so he could lift Owen out of the vehicle, bringing the younger man's bag as well.

Owen hadn't been wrong. He didn't wake up. Instead, he shifted in Ian's arms, so his head dropped against the older man's shoulder.

Ian didn't try to wake up the younger man as he carried Owen inside, checked into the hotel, and settled them both in their room, tucking Owen into one of the beds and making sure he was comfortable.

It was the next morning, a full fourteen hours later, when Owen finally stirred. Letting out a low groan, he opened his eyes. "What time is it...?"

"Ten," Ian answered. "You've been asleep for fourteen hours."

Owen opened his eyes wide at that and gave Ian an almost nervous look. "Sorry... Hope you weren't hoping to eat breakfast..." he joked feebly and waited to see if he was about to be lectured. He and Ian had an unusual friendship... They always had... because while they were most definitely friends, Ian could be something of a worrier and had no problem with stepping in or letting you know when you'd messed up. And now that Ian had stepped in, in one of the most personal ways Owen had ever experienced, Owen was trying to figure out exactly what he could and could not get away with... And what the response would be if it was something he couldn't.

"It's not about the breakfast. I'm concerned about your health," Ian said quietly. "These sixteen-hour days you've been pulling aren't acceptable any longer, son. I'm going to make sure you get into a proper routine and any more putting your health at risk is going to end with getting a sore backside."

Owen winced. "You're serious about this taking care of me thing..." he whispered uncertainly. "...Not joking or exaggerating." Owen was beginning to realize Ian constantly calling him son was "...Not just an endearment..."

"I'm not joking. I'm not exaggerating." Ian patted his calf through the blanket. "You're going to have another trip over my knee, son, to help you remember and then we'll talk about expectations and what's going to happen next."

Owen winced again but didn't argue. It wasn't like it was unbearable pain and he figured, after how he'd hurt his friend, he maybe deserved more than just one more trip. The fact Ian was doing it out of concern for his well-being and not to punish him for treating him so badly made it impossible to disagree. Swallowing, he moved the sheet and got up. "Do you wanna handle it right away or let me get out of these dirty clothes and shower first?" was all he asked.

"Shower and dress first. That way, you'll be more comfortable. I'll order room service. Anything in-particular you'd like to eat?" Ian asked, picking up the menu.

Owen bit his lip. "You can choose..." he said, reluctant to add in the, 'I've been living off Pop Tarts for breakfast' that he might have joked about at another time. Things were feeling really, serious and non-jokey at-the-moment.

Quietly, he shucked all his clothing, stuffing it into a laundry bag to wash when he had time for a laundromat, then padded into the bathroom to take his shower. He left the door open, sensing that Ian was still worried and figuring it would help the older man's worry if it was easy for him to get to Owen.

Ian called down to the room service, ordering a healthy, filling breakfast for him and Owen, to be delivered in about an hour. He then waited to hear the shower switch off.

Owen took his shower quickly, wanting... needing... to get the talk out of the way. He haphazardly dried himself off before tying the towel loosely around his waist and walking back into the main part of the room. "I'm guessing my days of winging things is over?" He smiled crookedly. What he'd been doing wasn't winging things. It was neglecting himself. But if he admitted that, he'd have to admit how depressed and unsettled he'd been feeling and he'd already upset Ian enough.

"Completely over." Ian thought about letting Owen get dressed, but he figured it might do the younger man good to be vulnerable to him and his correction. He walked over to Owen and took him by the shoulder, leading him to one of the beds and sitting down to draw the younger man across his lap.

Owen didn't fight, but he did manage to squeak out a tiny protest. "I know it'll be bare, but can't I get dressed first?" Even if his pants would be around his ankles, he'd still be wearing pants. It hadn't bothered him the day before, being completely naked. The position had been new, and he'd felt too guilty to focus on any other feelings. The guilt had been taken care of, though, and the position wasn't new, and he was beginning to notice all the other things he was feeling; such as how he felt extremely vulnerable and young and childish. Completely dependent on Ian.

"No, son. Not this time." Ian settled Owen in place across his lap, gently rubbing the younger man's lower back a moment or two before he brought his hand down in the first firm swat, repeating it at the same force.

Owen immediately slumped as Ian began to spank. The older man constantly calling him son had wormed under his skin, into his heart. Now, not only did he feel vulnerable and childish, but he felt like Ian was in charge. Not just because Owen felt like he owed it to him to listen, but because Owen just didn't have any desire at all to fight his instructions. In fact, his desires leaned more towards him obeying whatever the older man said... Trying to make him happy. It was disconcerting and confusing. Owen whimpered softly, clutching onto Ian's leg as if that was the only thing keeping him grounded and secure.

Ian delivered the firm swats down to Owen's thighs before he began again from the top. "I know you're used to going it alone, but that isn't what's going to be happening anymore. I'm here to stay now. With my son."

Owen whimpered again, feeling himself relax even more at the words. Which didn't make sense to him. Ian was making his backside sting horribly. Shouldn't he be trying to get away, instead of accepting it? And this time, Ian wasn't just calling him son. He'd outright stated that Owen was his son. Shouldn't that irritate him, instead of making him feel all warm and safe and...? He swallowed hard and stiffened slightly as he realized he was shifting to make it easier for Ian to spank him. He wasn't just cooperating. He was submitting to Ian nearly as completely as Blue and the others had submitted to him. What the hell?!

Ian let his hand rest gently on Owen's bottom, rubbing it gently for a few moments before he resumed swatting, going a fraction harder and faster. He paused again to continue rubbing after completing that circuit. "Over the next couple of days, we're going to sit down and plan out what's going to happen from here on out. You won't be working on the house alone. You won't be alone."

Owen whimpered again and closed his eyes. He thought he should protest. Instead, he found himself asking, in a strained, high pitched tone, "Promise?"

"I promise," Ian replied. "I won't ever abandon my son. And as far as I'm concerned, that's what you are."

"I'm yours?" Owen asked again, in a shaky voice. He was barely holding on and, despite his efforts to control himself, had shifted so that his sit spots were vulnerable. It was the next best thing to exposing his neck or belly, he figured.

Ian began to focus more swats to Owen's sit spots and thighs, his other hand rubbing the younger man's back. "You are mine," he stated. "And I won't ever let you go."

"Yessir..." Owen whimpered again. "...Yours, Alpha. Yours..." With that verbal submission, Owen didn't have the ability to keep fighting himself. He slumped over Ian's knee, whimpering softly, but accepting every smack willingly. He cried silently even as he made quiet promises to obey and be good.

Ian brought the spanking to a stop and carefully moved Owen into his arms onto his lap, hugging the younger man...his son...close and tight to himself.

Owen pressed as close as possible, regaining control over his crying fairly quickly, although he wasn't making a move to get away from Ian. "So... I'm your kid now? Your beta?" he whispered, with a tiny huff.

"That's exactly what you are," Ian confirmed, tightening his embrace.

"Okay..." Owen said quietly, in acceptance. "If I'm gonna have a dad I'm 'spected to obey without question at my age... I'm glad it's you." He stayed right where he was in proof of that.

"I'm glad you've accepted me as that." Ian let his hand cup the side of Owen's face. "I expect I'll be able to make it official, too."

Owen looked up at that before allowing himself to lean forward and kiss Ian's cheek. He let his head fall to the older man's shoulder. "I'd like that..." he admitted. "Feels...right."

"It feels right to me too," Ian said. "And it's something I should have done long before now."

Owen blinked back sudden tears, surprised at how hearing that made him feel so good. "Sorry..." he mumbled, wiping futilely at just eyes.

"Don't apologize," Ian said. "It's all right to be affected by this, son. By me becoming your father. It's affecting me too," he added.

Owen swallowed. "Okay...that's really good... Cuz I think I'm 'bout to cry like a baby... " he joked faintly, before proceeding to do just that.

Ian just tightened his arms around his son, holding Owen close and stroking his hair and down over his back. "I love you, son." He had to say that, because he wanted Owen to believe it.

"Love you too, dad..." Owen whispered, snuggling close and closing his eyes. He was comfortable, felt safe and... It was entirely too easy to fall asleep in his father's arms.

Ian didn't let go of his son, just holding Owen close. He planned to move them to the bed in a few minutes, so Owen would be more comfortable.

Owen wasn't sure how Ian had done it so quickly... The man had way more connections than Owen had been aware of... But within two days of Ian deciding Owen would be his, officially, they were in a courthouse, filing all the legal paperwork. Now, no matter what happened, they would be connected.

Once the paperwork was completed, Ian felt himself relax entirely and he smiled at Owen. "It's official now, son. You're mine."

Owen grinned. "Nice to have it official that I belong to you..." he said quietly, knowing exactly what he'd said, but also knowing Ian would understand.

Now that they had the paperwork, Ian wrapped his arm around Owen's shoulder to guide him to the car. "What would you like to do to celebrate?" he asked.

"Long as I'm with you, a couple of beers on a back porch is good..." Owen smiled, remembering that day years ago, right before he'd taken himself from the other man's influence. "Since we don't have a porch, maybe we can find a steakhouse with a patio?"

Ian nodded. "Sounds good to me." He got into the car, waiting for Owen to get in and buckle up before he started driving.

Owen leaned back in his seat, then chuckled. "You know... Claire and I broke up cuz of driving...well that was the final catalyst anyway…." He darted a look toward Ian. "Did you know Claire and I were together a short while?"

"I knew something about it," Ian answered. "But you can tell me the details if you want to."

"Kinda stupid, really. She didn't like that I never let her drive. Said I was being sexist..." Owen glanced out the window and slumped a little. "...Figured it was better to let her think that than to admit I wasn't comfortable letting anyone else have any type of control over my life. That I was scared to not be in-charge of myself." He didn't say anything else. Ian was smart enough to get the implications of Owen giving him such control.

Ian reached over and gently squeezed Owen's thigh. "It's good that you trust me enough to give me that kind of control," he commented.

"Yeah, well... You're my dad. Think I've known that instinctively even when I had no clue mentally." Owen snorted softly and grinned at Ian.

"I've known since before you left," Ian commented.

Owen's smile faltered. "Yeah. Your advice was very paternal. I should have realized. What I did was bad to do to a friend, but to someone who looked on me like that. It was so much worse. I can never apologize enough."

Ian patted his leg gently. "You don't need to apologize again, son. We've dealt with that and I've forgiven you. I love you. And now you're my son legally."

Owen nodded, his smile brightening. Putting his hand over Ian's and squeezing gently, he said, "Yeah. I am."

Ian gently squeezed Owen's hand. "When we've finished the house, we'll have plenty of occasions to sit on the back porch and drink beer together."

"Looking forward to it, old man..." Owen teased gently.

Ian smiled and parked the car outside a steakhouse, letting go of Owen's hand so they could both get out of the car and head inside.

Later that night, as he lay in bed listening to his father breathing on the bed next to his, Owen whispered, "Thank you for not giving up on me..."

Ian reached over so he could grasp Owen's hand. "I wouldn't do that, son. Not ever," he said softly.

Owen nodded. He was tempted to crawl into his father's bed, so he could keep hold of his hand- it was awkward reaching across the divide between them- but he reluctantly let go after giving another squeeze and closed his eyes in an attempt to sleep. "Night, Dad..."

"Good night, son," Ian said softly. "I love you." After a brief pause, he added, "You don't have to stay over there."

Owen blinked at that, turning his head to look at Ian with surprised curiosity. "How did...?" He broke off his question. Ian may not have realized he'd been thinking of that.

"Would you like to come over here?" Ian asked outright.

"Yes..." Owen said hesitantly. He wasn't sure that was something he was supposed to want.

Ian held his arm out to Owen. "Come here, son." Since he knew Owen wanted it, he decided to take away the choice.

Letting out a tiny breath, Owen quickly obeyed, crawling in next to his father and snuggling against him. "Maybe won't have nightmares tonight," he whispered.

Ian wrapped his arms tight around his son, fingers gently stroking the nape of Owen's neck.

Owen fell asleep to the gentle affection.

Ian followed his son into sleep not long after, still holding Owen tightly.

Owen hadn't been wrong. Being next to Ian, he didn't have nightmares for the first time in months. When he slowly woke the next morning, he was still in his father's arms. Reluctantly, he tried to move, not really wanting to get up, but feeling like he should. He was an adult, for crying out loud.

Ian felt his son wake up and he stirred, stroking Owen's head. "Morning, son. How did you sleep?" he asked gently.

"Real good, old man... Better 'n I have in months..." Owen admitted, pausing in his attempt to escape to enjoy the 'petting'.

Ian continued to stroke his son's hair and down over his back. "That's good to hear, son. Maybe we should sleep like this more often."

"Yeah. If it don't bother you, I guess..." Owen smiled uncertainly, still not sure giving in to that particular need hadn't been weak on his part. Sighing, he rolled over to get out of bed.

Ian tightened his arms around Owen and pulled his son back towards him, gently tickling the back of his neck. "I didn't say you could get up yet."

"Uh yeah. Going to use the bathroom and get dressed..." Owen sounded a bit amused. He shrugged his shoulders to try and block the tickling of his neck, surprised that it was affecting him.

Ian just continued to tickle the back of his son's neck, also tickling down over his back and arms, still holding Owen close to him.

"C'mon...stoooop!" Owen laughed and began to squirm helplessly.

Ian smiled, but continued to tickle his son, adjusting Owen's pajamas enough so he could get to bare skin better. "Not yet."

Owen began to squirm more frantically, actively trying to get away. The tickling was beginning to get uncomfortable and his bladder was starting to protest.

Ian let his fingers gently stroke and tickle over Owen's ribs. "I'm your father, son. Your alpha, as you put it. You want up? You need to ask for permission."

Owen blinked at that, his own 'take charge' tendencies warring with his need to get up and go to the bathroom and his need to make his father happy. "S.. seriously?" He gasped as the tickling started to move from uncomfortable into painful territory. "I gotta pee!" His protest was more childish than authoritative, though.

"You need to get used to obeying me, son." Ian's voice was gentle, but still not allowing for any argument. "Accepting that I'm in charge of you." He began to tickle Owen's thighs; the backs of his knees.

"For everything?" Owen asked in a tiny voice, as his struggling became more frantic. He was going to wet himself and that would be so humiliating...

"For everything," Ian stated. "You're mine now. My son. And no matter what happens, that won't change."

Owen liked the sound of that. At the same time, he was a grown man that was now being expected to ask permission to go to the bathroom. It made him feel extremely young and childish and he wanted to resist almost as much as he wanted to cooperate. He realized that the choice was simple, really. Continue to fight his father's instructions, pee himself and not only feel childish but look childish; or give in to his father, ask permission and at least appear to be a 'big enough boy' he didn't wet his pants. "D... daddy please. I gotta go. Please lemme go..." His voice was more begging than he would have liked, and he was staring at the bathroom door so couldn't see Ian's reaction, but he'd asked permission. Doing so immediately put him in a younger frame of mind.

Ian kissed his head. "I love you, son," he whispered, a bit taken aback by the name, but realizing he shouldn't be so surprised. He loosened his hold. "You can go."

Owen was out of bed the moment Ian relaxed his grip, in the bath seconds later. He almost closed the door but wasn't certain if he'd be told he wasn't allowed. Ian seemed to be feeling a lot more authoritarian than Owen ever remembered him being before. Then again, Ian had been hiding how he felt before. As soon as he finished and washed his hands, he stepped out and gave Ian a hesitant look. "I'm going to take a shower now..." he said hesitantly, almost testing. Was he truly meant to ask permission for everything?

Ian raised his eyebrows. "I think you'd better word that another way, son." He took a step closer to Owen and gently grasped his son's shoulder.

Owen swallowed hard and canted his head to the side, exposing his neck. "Sorry, daddy..." he whispered, looking toward the ground. "C... can I take a shower, sir?"

"Yes, son." Ian gently ran his fingers over his son's neck. "I'll order breakfast while you're showering," he added.

Owen swallowed as his neck was rubbed and closed his eyes, but he didn't move from his position until Ian gave him permission. When his father had turned to order breakfast, he quickly undressed, putting his soiled clothing into his laundry bag, then went in and got into the shower. He left the door open again.

Ian ordered them some food and then, while he waited for his son, took care of answering some e-mails and making a couple of calls to his colleagues.

Owen had finished quickly and soon had got out and dried himself. He wasn't sure about this new dynamic of asking permission for everything but found he didn't want to fight it. Not really. Finishing drying himself, he ran his comb through his hair and brushed his teeth, then padded out into the main room, naked as the day he was born. Blushing faintly (because of what he was about to ask, not because he was naked), Owen hesitantly cleared his throat and waited for Ian to acknowledge him before asking his question.

Ian turned his attention immediately to his son, giving Owen a warm smile as he waited for his son to speak.

"C... can I get dressed, sir?" he asked hesitantly. "D... do you want to pick my clothes out?" He didn't add on 'like a toddler', but it was obvious asking made him feel uncomfortable. He hadn't felt this young and out of control since he hit puberty.

Ian reached out and stroked his son's neck. "Yes, son. You can get dressed." He moved over to pick out the clothes for Owen to wear.

"Thank you, sir..." Owen whispered, as Ian handed him the clothing he'd wear that day. He waited until Ian nodded at him before he put the clothes on. As uncomfortable as he'd been feeling, having his father control everything, it was becoming easier to wait and ask permission each time he did it.

Shortly after Owen dressed, the breakfast arrived, and Ian went to the door to retrieve it. He brought the food back and gestured for Owen to join him at the table. "I thought we'd drive out to the house and resume work on it today," he commented.

Owen relaxed at hearing Ian's plans. It was what he would have suggested if he was in charge. "That sounds good, dad..." He smiled crookedly, only pausing briefly when he realized he didn't have any inclinations to argue or 'add' to the plan.

Ian reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "With both of us working on it, it won't take long before it's finished."

"That'll be great..." Owen paused again. "You might want to help me alter the plans slightly, though. I'd only planned for it to have one bedroom... We'll need to add a bedroom on..."

Ian nodded. "I'll help you do that, son." He held Owen's hand a bit longer before he began eating.

Owen squeezed his father's hand before he began to eat as well. He'd expected not to be able to eat much, in the habit of not eating a lot in the morning, and usually something pre-packaged. It surprised him when he had no problem eating everything that Ian had ordered for him. "S'good..." he said in between bites, only refraining from talking with his mouth full because he did have manners. Even if he didn't always have cause to use them.

"Good," Ian replied. "I've taken care of everything I would have to deal with today, so my attention is only going to be with you, son."

Owen gave his father a crooked smile. Despite feeling a lot younger and vulnerable than he was comfortable with, he had to admit he liked Ian's attention. He'd missed the older man a great deal and if being uncomfortably vulnerable was a price to pay for having the older man back in his life, he was willing to pay it. "Okay, dad..." he said quietly, finishing up his meal.

Ian cleared up and then he took Owen's hand, sitting down and pulling his son onto his lap, beginning to stroke his hair and down over his neck and back.

Owen shivered at Ian's actions, giving his father a confused look. "Dad?" he asked hesitantly, shifting slightly as if he was going to try and get up... or at least move so that he was beside his father instead of on his lap. He blushed faintly. Why did Ian continue to treat him like he was so much younger than he was? And why did he like it so much?

Ian gave his backside a mild swat; just to indicate getting up or shifting wasn't allowed just yet. "We're going to sit like this for a bit." He stroked Owen's neck, lifting his son's shirt so he could get to his bare back.

Owen stopped squirming and shivered again, finding himself slanting his head, exposing his neck, to his father once more. He didn't understand his own actions, and his father's actions were confusing. "...Why?" he asked hesitantly. "...I'm not a little boy..." His tone indicated his confusion and uncertainty. He wasn't entirely sure he could believe his own words anymore, given how Ian was handling him and how he was reacting to that handling.

"No. But you're my son. And I am in control and charge. Not you." Ian let his thumb stroke over Owen's neck, even as his other hand rubbed and stroked over his son's back, shifting round to also rub his belly.

Owen whimpered, closing his eyes, but he didn't try and move again. Instead, he focused on his father's hands and, to his surprise, he began to relax; enjoy the attention. "Y...you're in charge of everything?" he asked, in a tiny voice. It certainly seemed as if Ian was taking control over every aspect of Owen's life. Owen wasn't sure how he felt about that. At first, he was going along with it because he felt so guilty about what he'd put the other man through. Now, though? Now he thought maybe he should be arguing a bit more. Fighting against it a bit more. Not going along with it and liking it. Whimpering again, he opened his eyes and struggled to stand up... suddenly unnerved by his own reactions to what was happening.

"No, son. No fighting this." Ian gave his bottom another mild swat. "I'm in charge of you, son. Of everything to do with you." His fingers stroked over Owen's ribs as his other hand gently scruffed his son's neck.

"B… but why?" Owen asked, unable to stop squirming to get away; nervous enough about everything that he needed to test Ian's resolve.

"Because I love you. Because you're mine. Because you need me." Ian delivered a light smack to emphasize each statement, then adjusted Owen enough to resume stroking and caressing.

"...But I'm a big boy!" Owen protested, then blushed darkly at his choice of words. "...You know what I meant..." he mumbled in embarrassment, irritated at himself for getting so worked up, but unable to stop himself... any more than he seemed to be able to stop himself from squirming, even though he'd already gotten several swats because of it.

"It doesn't matter how big you get, son. Or how 'in charge' you are of other people." Ian tugged Owen's pants down, so he could begin to stroke and caress his son's thighs and the backs of his knees, letting a slightly firmer smack land against his son's bottom.

Owen whimpered again, squirming frantically as he felt his pants being lowered but calming slightly as Ian rubbed. It didn't mean he wasn't still squirming, but the rubbing was derailing his desire to get away. At the same time, it was increasing his need to regain some control over himself. This desire and need he was beginning to feel, wanting to give in to where he'd let his father be in-charge of everything to do with him? Was becoming more than unnerving. It was starting to scare him.

"I've got you, son." Ian's voice was soft and reassuring; like he was speaking to a wild, frightened animal. "I know it's scary to not be in control, but I'm your father. It's okay not to be in control all the time with me." His arm was wrapped around Owen's waist, keeping his son tight and secure against him. "You're mine," he reiterated, running his fingers down the length of Owen's back, from the top of his head down to his feet. "I'm your alpha, son." He patted Owen's bottom firmly, holding the nape of his son's neck.

Owen shivered and whimpered again but started to calm down at Ian's words. "...My alpha..." he whispered. It would be okay. Ian was right. He didn't have to be in control of everything all the time, did he? Maybe letting Ian be in control of him would be a good thing. Remind him that he didn't always have to take charge. Sometimes taking charge wasn't the best thing for everyone; look at how it had turned out for him and Claire, after all. Maybe he needed to learn to submit to at least one person in his life. He'd done it in the service. Why did he find it so difficult to do now? Other than the fact when you relied on other people to be in charge and take care of you, you ended up being chased by Indominus Rex and nearly ending up Dino-chow. He whimpered and began to squirm frantically again.

Ian gently swatted his son's bottom as the squirming started up again. "I'm yours, son. In control and in charge. It doesn't matter how much you resist and struggle." His fingers stroked Owen's neck.

"Daaad..." Owen whimpered as he slowed his struggling again. He wanted to obey. He was just having a really difficult time. "...D... daddy..." he whispered, wondering if maybe it would help to address his father in a way that showed that the older man was in control and in charge of him. Maybe his head would follow what his mouth was implying. Maybe.

Deciding to remove all of the barriers, Ian slowly stripped off all of Owen's clothing, leaving his son naked and completely vulnerable as he stroked and caressed his son's back and stomach, letting his hand stroke all the way down Owen's back, lightly swatting his son's bottom each time his hand passed over it.

Owen struggled briefly when Ian began to undress him, but soon stopped, the added vulnerability making him need to hold onto his father and not get away. He shifted enough that he was holding onto the arm Ian was using to hold him in place and just held tightly, whimpering each time Ian's hand smacked and shivering the rest of the time when Ian was caressing. To Owen's shame and embarrassment, he felt tears streaming down his face. "...Daddy..." he whispered again, feeling himself beginning to lose the tenseness he had been holding himself with.

"I love you, son. I'm never going to let you go. Never going to abandon you or leave you alone. Never going to give up on you or decide you're too much work." Ian smacked his son's bottom to emphasize each promise; stroked and caressed when he didn't swat. "You're mine. No matter what happens."

Owen let out tiny huffs of air with each smack. At first, he tried to squirm away from the palm causing his backside to sting, but by the end of Ian's words, he'd begun to push his bottom out so that Ian could smack easier, the 'correction' helping to calm him. He didn't understand how or why it was calming him, but he needed to calm down before he began to sob like a baby, so he pushed his bottom out, seeking more smacks. He gripped onto Ian's arm more tightly and took a slow breath. "Love you, sir... yours... my a... alpha..." His voice caught, and it was obvious he was fighting tears.

"I love you, son." Ian pulled Owen tighter and more securely against his stomach, his other hand swatting his son's sit spots. He rubbed Owen's back and then swatted again. "You're mine. No matter what happens or what you do. I decide everything about you, son." Another swat and another stroke.

Owen's whimpers turned into a moan at those words. "...Y... you decide..." he said hesitantly. Part of him wanted to give in, if only to make his father happy with him. The other part was still scared at what giving in would mean for his autonomy and being a 'grown-up'. Even if he trusted Ian fully, it was hard to give in.

"I decide what happens to you, son. I decide what kind of affection you get. And I decide when or how hard you're spanked." After two more smacks, Ian rubbed his bottom gently. "I want you to bend over my knees, son."

Owen swallowed hard at that. Had he upset Ian enough to deserve a real spanking? Or was this Ian proving he was in control? Or... he supposed it didn't matter. The fact was, Ian had given him an order. Much like the night before, when he insisted that Owen ask for permission to do whatever he wanted to do. Or this morning, when he wouldn't allow him out of bed until he'd asked permission to use the bathroom. He wasn't certain what Ian would do if he refused to cooperate and place himself over his knees. Owen found that he didn't want to discover what would happen if he disobeyed. Whimpering, he carefully stood up enough that he could turn. As soon as he was facing the opposite direction, he lay down over Ian's lap. Closing his eyes tightly and reaching down to hold onto his father's ankle, he whispered, "...You d... decide..." This time, the words were less hesitant and a tiny bit more accepting.

"Good boy." The words were soft as Ian began to smack his son's bottom; harder than he had been, even if they weren't the full force of punishment smacks. And he paused periodically to stroke and rub.

Owen whimpered softly, squeezing his father's ankle tightly and squeezing his eyes shut. He was shivering with the effort it was taking not to squirm and try to get away.

"I love you, son. You're my good boy." Ian rubbed and then resumed swatting, his other hand resting on Owen's lower back. After two circuits, he paused, once again gently rubbing. "I want you to shuffle forward, son. And give me your hands," he added, squeezing the back of Owen's neck.

Owen whimpered again and had to take a slow breath before he forced himself to obey, squirming forward enough that his entire bottom and sit-spots were vulnerable. He then forced himself to unclench his hands from around Ian's ankle and, with a tiny sob, lifted them up behind his back so that Ian could take hold of them. "...D... daddy..." he whimpered again. Somehow, the act of obeying his father in making himself more vulnerable was helping him to relax somewhat. Was helping calm him and be less scared.

Ian gently grasped his son's hands, holding them in a tight, comforting grip. "I've got you, son. I won't ever let you go," he promised, before he began to steadily swat Owen's sit spots and the lower parts of his bottom.

Owen let out a tiny sob, gripping onto Ian's hands almost as tightly as he'd been holding onto his ankle, but... he found himself relaxing. He'd put himself into this position, willingly if a bit reluctantly, and so it was his choice. He'd chosen to submit. And because of that, his need to fight, to get away, slowly drained out of him, leaving him limp and pliant over his father's knee. It allowed him to just hold onto Ian and stop squirming or struggling to get away. It allowed him to accept the smacks without any kind of argument or fight at all. "...Yours..." he finally whispered, his voice calm and accepting for the first time since Ian had begun to handle him. "... Yours... your good boy..."

"My good boy," Ian agreed. "I love you. So very much. I won't ever let you go again. Now that I have you, I don't ever have to worry about holding back. Not letting you see how deeply I feel about you."

"No, sir... don' hafta hide..." Owen sniffled, slumping even further. His backside was now stinging constantly, warm from the consistent smacks Ian had been giving. It had gone from being an irritant to a comfort and to his surprise, he wanted more of it. Taking a slow breath, he shifted minutely in the hopes that it would encourage Ian to continue. He wasn't sure how to ask for it.

Ian noticed his son's shifting and he resumed swatting Owen's backside, still keeping a tight hold of his son's hands. "I love you. I won't ever let you go," he promised.

Owen shivered, calming as Ian began to swat again. "... Love you too, daddy..." he whispered, lying completely still and accepting the swats, tension draining from his body with each one.

Ian continued to swat, pausing every so often to rub and stroke. He squeezed Owen's hands, just keeping in contact even when he lifted his swatting hand between smacks.

Owen let out tiny whimpers and moans, squeezing Ian's hands in response to Ian's own squeezing. He didn't move away from the swats at all, accepting them as necessary. Accepting them as his father's decision. Accepting them as something he needed and even wanted now that he'd given up fighting himself (for the moment).

Ian paused to rub his son's lower back and bottom, watching Owen's reactions carefully to tell if he needed the spanking to continue, or if it was time to stop.

Owen was limp over his father's knee, whimpers, whines and moans the only reaction he was allowing himself to give anymore. The only reaction he could give. He was completely relaxed. He felt safe. He felt loved. And he'd finally accepted that he wasn't in control, so he had let go of his need to direct what was happening. On top of that... the constant sting had started to feel really good. Owen wondered if that should worry him- that he liked the sting- but he was beyond questioning anything at the moment. He squeezed Ian's hand again, sniffling softly. "...Yours... you control..." he mumbled in acceptance, no hint of argument or fight left in his voice. No element of confusion left. Owen knew who he belonged to and who he needed to obey.

"Mine," Ian reiterated. "No matter what. I won't ever let you go. You're my son. No matter what happens."

Owen whimpered again at the promise, sniffling softly. "...Love you..." he said in a whisper. He hadn't moved an inch since he'd submitted, almost going in the opposite direction of what he'd been previously with his constantly trying to squirm free. He wasn't distressed, though. Far from it. The longer he lay in his father's control, the more relaxed he became. The more contented he seemed to be.

"I love you." As he had done earlier, Ian stroked down Owen's entire back, just touching and caressing his boy. "I have you. I promise you're safe here with me," he whispered. "Because now I don't have to hold back or hide anymore. Hide how important you are to me."

"...You important to me too..." Owen admitted, in a tiny voice. "...Belong to you... gotta listen and not hide and not run from you..." He let out a tiny sigh that sounded a lot happier and relieved than someone being spanked would normally expel.

Ian squeezed the nape of his neck. "I'll never leave you, son," he promised. "I'm here for good now." He stroked his son's legs as he continued, "I'm glad to see you understand you don't have to fight me."

Owen nearly purred at the stroking. "...Understood from beginning..." he admitted sheepishly. "...Didn't wanna admit it..." he mumbled. "...Sorry, sir..." He stretched slightly before settling again. His voice was becoming a bit less clear as his attention became more focused on what Ian was doing.

"It's okay, son," Ian replied gently. "I understand how scary it is." He continued to stroke and rub, his hands staying on his son's body.

Owen was so relaxed by this point, everything seemed hazy and disconnected to him. The only thing that was clear and connected was the connection between his body and Ian's. Each smack and rubbing and stroking and squeeze was clearer than anything else. He began to squirm again, but it wasn't to escape. His body was reacting, and his mind hadn't yet caught up to what exactly was going on, although Ian would be able to tell immediately. Owen was too far down to realize.

Ian kept his hands firmly on his son, aware of what was happening and not wanting Owen to feel upset or like something was wrong. "I've got you, son. I love you." He kept repeating the words, over and over, touching and stroking.

Owen moaned softly, shivering. Tears were falling down his face by this point and he squirmed even more frantically before tensing up so tightly he couldn't move at all. Then he just collapsed over Ian's lap, his vision going black then white and all sounds around him going fuzzy. He took a shuddering breath and whimpered, laying completely limp and unable to move, too drained to do anything other than whimper softly. "...Sir..." he whispered in a choked voice.

"I've got you, son," Ian whispered, squeezing Owen's hands. "You're safe here. With me," he promised.

Owen closed his eyes and just lay limp. Ian said he had him and he believed the older man. Ian wouldn't leave him vulnerable and in danger. Ian wouldn't ask him to do things that would kill him. Ian would protect and take care of him. He sniffled softly. "...W… will you sp... spank me some more?" he found himself asking, to his own shock. Yes, it had begun to feel good to him, comforting even, but he hadn't planned on telling Ian that. Asking for more was pretty much confessing, even if he didn't say the words, 'I like it, it feels good'. He turned bright red in embarrassment.

Ian gently rubbed his son's back. "You don't have to be embarrassed, son." He began to swat Owen's bottom once more, his grip on his son firm and sure.

Owen was still blushing, but he immediately relaxed when Ian gave him what he'd asked for. "I... I know. I wasn't expecting to... to want you to, is all. And I definitely didn't 'spect to ask you to..." His voice was soft. While he was completely relaxed and limp over Ian's knees, he was completely aware of everything this time; no fuzzy headedness to cause him to lose his awareness. "...Didn't expect to go from it being uncomfortable to feeling... right... feeling good..." he continued to admit. "...And I can't seem to keep quiet, cuz I didn't mean to admit all that either..." he huffed in chagrined amusement.

"It's okay to admit things to me, son," Ian answered, continuing to swat firmly, squeezing Owen's hands. "It helps me to know what you need and how I can best help you."

"Even if it's something most people would think weird?" Owen asked hesitantly, shifting slightly, but not enough to move out of position or swatting range.

"It isn't weird to me," Ian promised, focusing more swats to his son's sit spots and thighs.

"Really?" Owen huffed slightly as the sting built up to a burn. He squeezed Ian's hand with his own; he hadn't let go even when he'd nearly lost consciousness. "...Thought... thought was meant to punish me when I was bad... train me to obey no matter what..." He let out a tiny gasp and whimper. "...Not... not be something I wanted..."

"It doesn't have to just be as punishment," Ian said, stroking Owen's hand. "It's a part of me taking control over you. Being your father...your alpha."

"So... long as I ask you and you decide you will... and I obey you and listen to whatever you decide...?" Owen asked hesitantly.

"Exactly, son," Ian answered. "I'm more than just your father." He squeezed Owen's thighs and resumed swatting.

Owen whimpered at the words, even as he couldn't stop himself from sticking his bottom up a bit higher. "...You're my alpha..." He was going to feel this the rest of the night and probably most of the next day. He found that idea didn't bother him too much.

"I love you." Ian continued to swat, his other arm holding his son firmly in place. "You're officially mine in every way that counts."

"...'m yours... compl... completely..." Owen whined softly. His backside officially felt like it would never stop burning now. "...Th... think I've had 'nuff, daddy... please?" He wasn't sure how to ask for it to stop; he just knew it wasn't up to him and he needed to ask, not order.

Ian stopped spanking and gently gathered Owen up into his arms, stroking his son's hair and back and squeezing the nape of his neck. "I've got you, son," he murmured.

Owen pressed as close as he could to Ian, wrapping his arms around the older man and holding on tight. "...Yours...always and completely..." he whimpered, before beginning to softly cry.

Ian tightened his embrace, stroking his fingers through Owen's hair and kissing the top of his head. "I love you," he repeated softly.

"Love you too, dad..." Owen snuggled closer. "So much..."

Stroking his son's head and down over his back, Ian tightened his arms even more around Owen. "You're my good boy," he murmured.

Owen sniffled and nuzzled against his father. "Even when I'm bad?" he couldn't help but ask.

"You aren't bad, son. You just occasionally misbehave." Ian scruffed his neck.

Owen slumped against his father at the scruffing. "Okay...if you say so, sir..." Owen's voice was slightly teasing.

"I do. And I'm your father. So, you should trust what I say." Ian gently squeezed and stroked his neck.

"I do trust you," Owen said softly. "With all of me..."

"And you'll never have any reason not to," Ian promised.

Owen nodded, snuggling more. "What now, sir?" he asked hesitantly. This whole thing had started with his father teaching him obedience. Was the lesson over?

"For right now, we'll continue with the original plan to work on the house for a few hours," Ian answered. "Later, we'll come back here."

"Alright. Can I drive?" Owen grinned. Claire would never let him live it down if she found out Ian didn't let him drive, just like he hadn't let her drive. She'd called him a control freak. He wrinkled his nose as he thought. Maybe she had a point. He'd refused to let her drive because he liked to retain control and driving let him do that. Maybe he should admit that to Ian. It might play a part in what decision he made.

"Maybe on the way back," Ian answered, stroking his back. "I think I'll drive us there."

"Okay, dad..." Owen smiled. "You know, my last girlfriend broke up with me over my driving ..."

"Because you wouldn't let her drive." Ian stroked his son's head. "Because it's hard for you to let someone else have that kind of control."

Owen blinked. "I already told you the story?" He looked surprised. He didn't remember telling him. "I must have been really tired, to not remember that..." His tone was sheepish.

"You had been working sixteen-hour days," Ian commented, threading his fingers through his son's hair.

"Yeah... not 'llowed to do that anymore..." Owen pressed his head into Ian's hand.

"Definitely not," Ian replied, stroking his hair. "And if you try, I'll put a stop to it."

"Yessir...counting on it..." Owen smiled crookedly.

Ian kissed his head. "As soon as you're ready, I'll get you dressed and we can drive out to the house," he said.

Owen blushed faintly, snuggling a little more. "I forgot I wasn't dressed," he admitted sheepishly. "...Good thing you're paying attention," he snorted, with a tiny laugh.

"You can trust me to pay attention to you and everything to do with you, son," Ian promised, stroking the side of his neck.

"... Someone has to. Wasn't doing a very good job of it myself..." Owen said softly, finally admitting what Ian had known from the beginning. "...Thank you for pulling me in to you, dad. Thank you for taking control... prolly woulda killed myself from neglect otherwise..." Owen slanted his head so his neck was fully exposed again. Ian held his life in his hands. Literally.

"I won't let that happen," Ian promised, gently squeezing his son's neck. "I won't ever let you go. I won't let you take yourself from me. I won't let anything take you away from me."

Owen closed his eyes and swallowed, able to feel his father's hand squeezing gently as the muscles of his throat contracted. "Good..." he finally said. Sighing softly, he opened his eyes again and gave Ian a crooked smile. "I think I'm ready to go work on the house now, dad..." he said quietly.

Ian kissed his forehead and then helped his son to stand up, beginning to dress Owen like he really was a toddler.

Owen blushed, but cooperated as much as he was able. He didn't even protest when his father put his underwear on him, though he did hiss slightly because his bottom was very tender.

Once his son was dressed, Ian stroked the side of his face. "Okay, son. Let's go see what we can get done on our house."

Owen grinned at the words. "I like the sound of that. Our house..." He brushed shoulders with his father. "...Sounds a lot less lonely than saying my house..."

Ian wrapped his arm around Owen's shoulders so he could guide his boy from the room. "You won't be lonely again, son," he promised.

Owen let himself be led to the car, waiting until Ian had opened the door and helped him into the passenger seat. He managed not to hiss so loudly when he sat down, though his quick exhalation would let Ian know he was still feeling the effects of the 'training'. He smiled crookedly at his father, not bothered in the least.

Ian got in the driver's side and then reached over to squeeze his son's hand. "Buckle up. I love you," he added, before he began to drive to their house, content to keep holding onto Owen.

Owen grinned, quickly putting his seat belt on. "...Love you too, dad..." he said, before leaning back into the seat and watching the scenery go by, leaving his hand in Ian's; or, when Ian needed both hands to drive, leaving it on the console next to his father's leg so Ian could take hold of him again when able.

Ian held onto his son where he could as he drove and then, when they reached the house, got out of the car and moved round to the other side to get his son out.

Owen was tempted to get out of the car immediately when they arrived, but the slight sting when he shifted in his seat to unbuckle his seatbelt reminded him and so he waited for Ian to come around.

Ian opened the door and unbuckled his son, helping Owen out of the car.

"Feeling kinda childish here, dad..." Owen said, in a half-joke, half-serious manner. "I guess that's not such a bad thing... s'long as I don't start acting like one..."

"It wouldn't be a problem if you did act like one," Ian answered. "You act in whatever way you need to, son."

"Oh, you say that now..." Owen laughed. "...You ain't seen me at my most childish... I mean, yeah. I get kinda 'little' when you spank me and all... but I'm talking a whole other level of bratdom..."

"It doesn't matter," Ian reiterated. "Even if you need to go over my knee again, it doesn't matter how you act." He patted his son's backside for emphasis.

Owen couldn't help but squirm as the sting was reignited with just those few gentle pats. "...Yeah... I don't think I want an actual punishment spanking, though... so I think I'd rather try and not act like too much of a brat. Try and act my age when it isn't just you and me and we aren't doing anything where acting like a brat could cause problems..." He glanced toward his father. "...If...if you want me to act a certain way..." he said uncertainly. Maybe Ian wanted him to act like a child at any time it was just the two of them? Maybe he considered it part of his training; although normally, a parent was trying to teach their kids not to be too bratty, so he thought that was probably unlikely.

Ian patted a little bit more, his other hand holding onto his son's arm. "You don't need to try and act a certain way, son. Don't hold back if you need to react. Trust that I can pull you back if and when it's needed."

"I... I know you can pull me back. I... I just don't want to get too used to letting myself go with you, because then when I'm with people I can't let go with, I'm afraid I might forget and... well... " He shrugged faintly, shifting closer to Ian. "We're out here in practically the middle of nowhere. Could work naked and no one would know..." He snorted in amusement. "What'd you think? Should I work on my all over tan?" He grinned impishly at Ian. He doubted Ian would allow something like that, because of the type of work they were doing. Still. It amused him to tease the other man.

"I don't think so." Ian gave his backside a fairly firm pat. "At least not while we're working. Maybe when we take a break," he commented, squeezing Owen's arm.

Owen blinked. "I can suntan naked when we have a break?" he asked in surprise. "...I was just teasin..." he added in uncertainly.

"Whether you stay clothed or not when we're out here, at least when we're not working on the house, is entirely up to you," Ian said.

"Entirely up to me as in I choose...? Or entirely up to me as in if I behave, I keep my pants and if I misbehave, I'm gonna be naked over your knee...?" Owen asked cautiously. He wasn't upset or worried, exactly, and his tone indicated that; he sounded calm enough. But it would be helpful to know expectations ahead of time. Ian had been taking charge over nearly everything for the last day and Owen wasn't sure if he was allowed any choices until Ian was satisfied with his 'training'.

"If you want to get naked while we're on a break from working, that's your decision," Ian said. "But you're right that misbehaving will get you over my knee without clothing."

Owen nodded. "Okay, sir. Can't say I plan to get naked on breaks. Too many bugs..." He grinned impishly.

Ian gave him a tight hug and then moved his son over, so they could rework the plan and add in a second bedroom.

It didn't take Owen long to point out where the original bedroom was going to be. It was huge, with an attached bath. There was a smaller room next to it that was supposed to have been an office. "If we turn this into a bedroom instead of an office... expand the bath a couple of feet and add a second door so it enters into the hall as well as the master bedroom..." Owen looked at Ian to see if that met with his approval. "The master bedroom would be yours..." Owen said deferentially.

Ian smiled. "It looks good, but I don't necessarily need to have such a big bedroom, even allowing for you to sleep in the room with me. Why don't we put up a dividing wall, separate the bigger bedroom into two and keep the office?" he suggested.

"Have one door from the bath to the hallway?" Owen asked curiously.

Ian nodded. "I think that's a good idea," he confirmed.

"That will be good, then...I'd say we could keep it big and just share a room, but I'm sure there are days you'll want your space after I've stepped on one too many nerves..." Owen grinned impishly.

"I won't want space from you, son," Ian said honestly. "I would be perfectly happy to keep the room as it is and share."

Owen smiled crookedly. "I'd be happy with that too. Course... not knowing who might visit in the future, it'd probably be good to have two rooms anyway. Even if one is just a guest room and we still share..." Owen paused. "...In case Kelly decides to come see you..." he said hesitantly. When he'd left, Ian's daughter had been on one of her 'dad is a big worry-wart who butts in where I don't want him' moods and had taken a break from talking to him. Remembering that, it made Owen feel even worse about how he'd treated the older man. Having two children run off to do their own thing and ignore his advice had to have hurt. "...I know I already said it repeatedly and you punished me and forgave me...but I'm sorry..." he whispered, looking up at Ian with guilt-filled, hurting eyes.

Ian reached out and stroked the side of his son's head. "I have you back in my life," he said softly. "I've forgiven you for what happened, son. I love you. So very much," he promised. Glancing at the house, he added, "But you're right. We should have space for if Kelly does decide to visit."

"So, split the large room into two, leave the small room an office, put the door to the bath into the hallway instead of into the bedroom..." Owen made a few marks on the blueprints. "That look good?"

Ian nodded, looking over his son's shoulder at the blueprints. "It looks fine."

Owen smiled over his shoulder at Ian, stepping back just a tiny bit so that he was pressed against his father. "Good. I'm glad you'll have a space here. Didn't realize how lonely it was going to be till I was back in your control..." The 'where I belong' wasn't said, but it was almost as loud and clear as if it had been.

Ian wrapped his arm around Owen's waist and kissed his son's head. "Exactly where you belong." He said the words out loud that his son didn't.

Owen relaxed and smiled. "Yeah...where I've always belonged but was too stubborn to admit it..." He sighed, turning to face forward again. "So I guess we get the outside walls and roof up first. Then we can start working on the inside? That way, even if it is raining or something, we can still work..."

Ian nodded. "Sounds good to me. You can tell me everything I don't know about what's happened to you while we work," he added.

"Okay..." Owen easily agreed, though he wasn't sure what was left to tell.

Ian moved to begin gathering together what they needed, setting out tools and materials. "How many dinosaurs came after you?" he asked.

Owen snorted. "In the beginning, none. They were all where they were sposed to be. By the end? The main one was Indominus Rex. For a short while, I was afraid my girls had turned on me, found themselves a new alpha... but in the end, they protected me from Id. T-Rex could have come after me, but I think she was just happy to be out of her enclosure and after having worked with Blue to get the hybrid within reach of the huge ass fish..." He paused as he remembered that day. "Oh. And Pteradactyls. Had one of them try and get me..." He was helping gather materials as well. Soon, they were ready to begin working on the frame of the house again.

Ian listened intently to his son. "How did they get out of the enclosures?" he asked.

"First one out was Indominus..." Owen wrinkled his nose, unconsciously cringing as he thought about that day. "She was an intelligent... monster." He swallowed hard. "See... she scratched up the side of her enclosure. None of us knew it at the time, but the scientists had used some type of chameleon DNA when engineering her. She was able to blend in with the foliage so well, none of us could see her. Two of her pen guards and I went down to try and figure out how she'd gotten out. Saw the scratches on the wall... thought for sure she'd escaped. In a panic, Claire had headed over to the main monitoring building and had them do a search on her tracker- figure out where she'd gone in the park. Only her tracker showed up in her pen..." This time, he visibly shivered. He was lost in the memory, though and didn't notice. "She hadn't actually escaped. She was blending in. Hiding. Claire radioed back to warn us and we tried to run. The one guard opened the pen gate because it was the closest exit; the door we'd come in from was on the other side and she was between us and it. The other guard got... eaten. I ran like hell for the gate- the guard had already made to close it- and she... she was right on my heels the whole way. I threw myself under a truck. The gate didn't close in time and she bust through... After that? The Pteradactyls got loose because some how she ended up in their enclosure and got them to swarm out. I have no idea how she got in... The raptors were let loose by the mercenaries that InGen had hired. They wanted to use them to track her. I was against it, but by that time, I was outvoted. All I could do was try and make sure that my girls weren't hurt or antagonized too much. Once they were loose, though… I'm the only one they would listen to and for a short time the monster convinced them to follow her, so..."

Ian gave his son his full attention, listening without interrupting. He moved nearer to Owen while his son talked, though, reaching out to place his hand on his son's shoulder. He squeezed gently. "I can understand it must have been difficult for you," he said gently. "I might have told you not to go, but I know you had things that were important to you there along with the danger you were in."

"I know it shouldn't have bothered me so much; that they'd change their loyalty to her instead of me. I mean, of the two of us, she was definitely more Alpha... and they were wild animals. Their instinct told them to go with the strongest..." Owen swallowed again. "...It still hurt, though. I never felt more relieved and... I dunno... when they decided to protect me from her; protect Claire and the kids I was trying to protect." He bit his lip. "Is that how you felt when I left you to follow after...?" He shook his head. "...I know I'm not a wild animal, so I don't go by instinct, but you... you're still my alpha and I disobeyed you. Left you for something that... I dunno. Comparing me and my girls; seems like they had a better excuse than I did..."

Ian gently squeezed his shoulder, then wrapped his arms around Owen in a tight hug. "It did hurt when you left," he admitted. "That all I got from you was a letter sent after you'd already left. I was worried about you. I was scared for your safety. I was worried I might lose you. That the danger would be too great to bring you back to me."

Owen glanced around at the house. He'd returned back to the States in bad shape mentally. He'd thought numerous times he should contact Ian but had chickened out each time. He'd been home long enough to get the foundation, frame, and all but one of the outer walls up. And during all that time when he was being a coward, hiding and feeling sorry for himself... His father had been hurting, scared and worried about him. "I should have called. I was a selfish coward and I should have called..." His voice broke and he swallowed hard. "I don't deserve you..."

Ian tightened his embrace around Owen and kissed his head. "That's not true, son," he said softly. "You do deserve me. You're right, though. You should have called me. I know you weren't in a good place mentally or emotionally, but I don't need to tell you that you didn't need to hide from me. That you shouldn't have hidden from me."

"No, sir, you don't have to tell me. I should have known better. I did know better..." Owen's voice cracked and he swallowed hard, staring at the ground, unable to face his father.

Ian held his son close and then said softly, "Here's what I want you to do, son. I want you to take your clothes off and then go and cut me a switch."

Owen sniffled, cringing at the order but not arguing. "Undress first?" he asked to confirm. "Shoes too?"

Ian nodded, stroking the side of his son's face. "Undress first, including your shoes," he directed.

Nodding silently, Owen quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, then carefully took off his shoes. The rest of his clothes soon followed, being folded and placed next to his shoes.

Completely naked, vulnerable, Owen took a small pocket knife and gingerly made his way through the yard, avoiding rocks and other sharp foliage. Once at the edge of the woods, he scanned the trees until he found a thin branch, about two feet long, that was thick enough not to break when striking him, but thin and willowy enough not to break him. He cut it from the tree, quickly shaved the bark from it, cut off any tiny nubs or twigs that could puncture his skin.

Swishing the switch back and forth experimentally, he decided that it was good enough to punish him without damaging him. He knew that would be important to his father.

He quickly returned the way he had come from. Soon, he was standing in front of Ian, holding out the now folded pocket knife and the switch. He stared at the ground, fighting tears, a miserable, slightly fearful look on his face. He didn't argue or protest, though. He believed he deserved this. "Here, sir..." he whispered, in a shaky voice.

Ian took both from his son, gently caressing Owen's face for a moment before he put the pocket knife away and then grasped his son's hand. "Good boy," he murmured. "My good boy." Squeezing Owen's hand, he led him over to one of the deck chairs they'd brought with them and sat, drawing his son across his lap.

Owen followed obediently, bending over his father's lap without any argument. He couldn't stop himself from beginning to cry, though. Tears began to stream down his face and he had to start breathing through his mouth. "I'm sorry, daddy..." he whispered, resorting to the more childish term of address because he was so nervous about being switched that he couldn't be 'grown up' about it.

Ian began to gently stroke Owen's back and over his bottom, down his legs, putting the switch down. "I'm not going to switch you, son." His voice was gentle and reassuring. "I would only ever do that if you did something so foolish and dangerous, there was no other course of action I could take. But you did exactly what you should have done and followed my directions."

Owen slumped and started crying harder at his father's words. "Thank...thank you, d... daddy..." he choked out. He was positive he deserved a switching and was grateful Ian had decided against it. He was also glad he'd obeyed without argument. It helped soothe some of his guilt- not all, but some- that his obedience had pleased his father.

Ian continued to stroke down the entire back side of his son, giving a firm smack when his hand moved over Owen's bottom. "I love you, son. And no matter what happens, that isn't going to change. I won't let you go."

"Never ever?" Owen asked, in a small voice. He was still crying, and his breathing hitched with every swat, but he notably wasn't trying to get away from them. He was accepting whatever his father chose to do.

"Never ever," Ian promised. "You're mine. My son. I'm your father...your alpha. Even though you left me like your raptors did you, you did the same as them again in coming back to me."

"And you took me back 'gain..." Owen sniffled, hesitantly reaching to wrap his arms around Ian's leg. "I was a... misbehaving... brat..." he determined of himself.

"You were a naughty boy...my naughty boy." Ian's tone was entirely possessive as he continued to rub down over his son's back, still swatting every time his hand came into contact with Owen's bottom.

"Your naughty boy... 'm yours... Shoulda obeyed... disbeying was wrong... Sposed to do what you say..." Owen mumbled, snuggling against Ian's leg in an effort to not try and squirm away from the swats.

"You are, son," Ian agreed, his other hand stroking down between Owen's shoulder blades as he continued to stroke and swat with his other hand. "You're supposed to do what I tell you, but even if you're naughty and don't, it won't change anything. I'll always take you back, son."

"Always? Even when I'm horrible naughty? I can still come home to you?" Owen shivered, his body beginning to quiver from the effort not to squirm away from the swats. He wanted to be good and take his punishment without fighting...but he might need help soon.

"Always," Ian confirmed. "I will always want you to come home to me, son." He wrapped his arm around Owen's waist, drawing his son tight against his chest.

Owen whimpered at the promise and the tight, possessive grip Ian had on him. "Love you, Daddy..." he whispered.

"I love you, son. And I'm not going to let you go," Ian promised. "We're going to live together...stay in each other's lives from now."

"Yessir...won't ever leave you..." Owen readily agreed. He took a shivering breath.

Ian continued to swat his son's backside, his grip on his son tight and secure. "And I will continue to prove that to you every day, son," he promised.

"Yessir..." Owen whimpered, his body quivering. "...C..can't hold still, alpha... can..can't not squirm anymore... Sorry, d..daddy..." He began to shift with each swat.

"React how you need to, son. I won't ever let you go," Ian promised.

Owen took his father at his word and gave up trying to hold still. Soon, he was squirming like a worm on a hook, his bottom moving every which direction, only Ian's tight hold keeping him from squirming right off his father's lap.

Ian kept a tight hold of his son, stroking and rubbing and periodically swatting. As he did that, he repeated reassurances of love and forgiveness for the past.

Owen may have been frantically squirming, but that didn't mean he wasn't listening. He was listening...very closely. Eventually, his father's words of love and forgiveness overcame everything else. Giving one last faint squirm, he finally went limp over Ian's knee and just sobbed out all the pain and poison his guilt and fears had caused.

Ian stopped spanking and quickly moved his son from over his lap to sitting on top if it, wrapping his arms tightly around Owen and drawing his son in close. "I've got you, son," he whispered.

"...Sorry, daddy... So so sorry..." Owen sobbed quietly, holding onto his father as tightly as he could.

"You've already been forgiven, son," Ian murmured, stroking his son's hair. "And I've got you. For good."

Owen slowly calmed, the gentle petting doing as much as the words to ease him. Soon, he was lying complacently in his father's arms, tired and sore but at peace. "D..do you want to put the last wall up, daddy?" he asked meekly; still enough under emotionally that he was reacting in a very young and vulnerable manner.

Ian nodded, stroking and gently scruffing his son's neck. "I'll get you dressed again," he said softly.

"Okay, sir..." Owen took a quivering breath, but didn't move. He wouldn't move until he was told to do so.

Ian kissed his head and then helped him to stand up, so he could dress Owen once more.

Owen helped as much as he was able or allowed. Once fully dressed, he impulsively threw his arms around Ian. "Thank you, Dad...I love you..."

"I love you, son." Ian hugged him tightly. "And no matter what happens, I'll never let you go. I'll never stop being your father. Or your alpha."

Owen gave a tiny smile at that, just holding on. "I'll always belong to you... With you... Even if I'm the naughtiest, most thoughtless son and beta in the world... I'll always come home to you s'long as I'm able..." he promised in a whisper.

Ian kissed his head and stroked the side of his neck. "Good. I'm going to keep on holding onto you, son. No matter what."

Owen just relaxed into his father, slanting his head so his neck was exposed. "What now, sir?" His question was quiet... subdued.

"We'll put in that final wall now." Ian squeezed his son's neck, gently scruffing him.

"Yessir..." Owen grinned at being scruffed, ducking his head almost bashfully. "You want me to hold the boards in place while you nail?"

Ian nodded. "That sounds good to me, son." He kissed Owen's forehead and then led his son towards where the remaining wall needed to go.

Between the two of them, it didn't take long at all to get the remaining outside wall constructed. Owen looked at everything that had been accomplished and let out a happy sigh. "It's looking good, dad..." he said quietly. "We can start making the frames for the roof...I've called electricians and plumbers to get the wiring and plumbing done before we put up the inside walls... They promised to be here tomorrow. So if you wanted, we could take the rest of the day off... Do something together. Then come out tomorrow and work on the roof frames while they put in everything..."

"That sounds good to me, son," Ian agreed, wrapping his arm around Owen's waist. "We can go to a steakhouse for a meal...return to our hotel room. Maybe watch a movie together with you sitting on my lap."

Owen blinked, then blushed, but found himself grinning. "That sounds good..." he said softly. "Can I begin clean up now? Put the tools in the van to lock up?"

Ian nodded. "I'll make a reservation and then help," he commented, figuring they could go somewhere a little fancier to celebrate the work they'd done so far.

Owen's eyes widened. "Reservation?" he asked hesitantly. "...Will I need a suit and tie? I...I'm not sure I have a suit and tie..." He scratched his ear, slanting his head to expose his neck again, as if in apology for being so 'rough around the edges'.

Ian gently squeezed his neck. "No, son. Just thinking of somewhere a bit nicer, so we can celebrate the hard work we've done today."

Owen smiled crookedly, pressing his neck into Ian's hand. "Okay. So long as I'm clean and wearing clean clothes, it's acceptable?"

Ian nodded, squeezing the nape of his neck. "Exactly, son. You don't need to worry."

"If you say I don't need to, I won't..." Owen nodded just enough to show he would listen to Ian without dislodging his hand from his neck. "Should I start cleaning up now?" he asked, not wanting to step away until his father was ready for him to.

"That's fine." Ian gently squeezed his son's neck and then released him.

Owen quickly began to gather up anything that was small enough to easily be carted off by thieves, taking it to the van and locking it up. Soon, everything was clear, and he was ready to go. He glanced at the switch he'd cut for Ian, noting it had been placed out of the way in a corner of the house. "Should I bring that?" he asked quietly. He wasn't afraid of it being used on him now; Ian had told him the only way something like that would be used. Still...

"No, son." Ian had finished making the reservation and now he wrapped his arm around his son's shoulders. "If there ever comes a time I need to use a switch on you...or anything other than my hand...we'll deal with the preparations for that when it comes."

Owen swallowed and nodded, leaning into Ian. "Can... can I get rid of it, then?" he asked sheepishly. Every time he looked at it, he remembered the way his stomach had dropped to his feet and the slight panic he felt at thinking he'd pushed Ian that far.

Ian kissed his head. "Whatever makes you feel better, son," he murmured softly.

Owen let out a slow breath, then smiled. "Thanks, dad..." He leaned against Ian some more, then quickly went and retrieved the switch and walked back to Ian. "Can I break it into tiny pieces?"

Ian nodded. "Go ahead, son." He let his hand rest on Owen's shoulder, close to his son's neck.

Owen's distaste for the switch manifested itself in the fact he broke it up into twenty tiny parts. "I'll, uh... put it with the firewood..." He gave Ian a sheepish look.

Ian squeezed his neck. "Once you've done that, I'll put you in the car."

"Yessir..." Owen leaned into Ian's hand again, before stepping away. He took Ian's words to mean he had permission to go to the woodpile and drop the broken pieces of the switch on it; so, he did so very quickly and returned to Ian's side so the older man could maneuver him.

Ian wrapped his arm around Owen's shoulders and guided his son to the car, opening the door and helping him inside before buckling him up and then getting in the driver's side.

"Do you like this area, dad? I mean... I know you've uprooted yourself, so you can come live here with me... take care of me... but just because I liked the area and kept the land for the house, doesn't mean you like it..." Owen bit his lip and gave Ian a worried look.

"I do like it, son," Ian replied reassuringly. "But I like the fact that I'm here with you so much more."

"I like that you're with me too..." Owen smiled, relaxing as he accepted the fact that Ian wasn't moving to a location he hated just to be with him. "If you didn't like it, I could sell it and find a place we both like, though..."

"You don't have to worry," Ian reiterated gently. "I do like it, son." He reached over to squeeze Owen's hand and then said, softly, "I'd like you to push your seat back as far as it'll go. Take your pants and underwear down. Turn over."

Owen blinked at the order but was already obeying before he'd even stopped to consider it. Pushing the seat back quickly and letting the back down so that it was nearly even with the seat portion, he undid his jeans and managed to shimmy them and his underwear down to just below his knees, even with the seatbelt on. Giving his father an almost bashful look, he carefully twisted and shifted until he was laying on his stomach, arms under his head, exposed from the middle of his back (where his shirt had ridden up) to below his knees. Swallowing, he asked, "W... what else should I do, sir?"

Ian reached out and stroked his son's back, down to his legs. "You just need to stay like that for now, son."

"No moving at all?" Owen asked, with a hint of curiosity, wiggling as if to emphasize his question. "Can I talk?" It was obvious it was going to take a lot of willpower for him not to talk. Even if he managed to stay still.

"You can talk." Ian squeezed each of his thighs. "As for moving...I expect you to stay in position. It's okay to move a little."

Owen relaxed. "Okay...thank you, sir..." he said, grateful he was allowed to talk. He didn't think he'd have any chance of obeying if he'd been told not to. He was just feeling too hyper-aware of everything.

Ian kept his hand on Owen's closest thigh as he began to drive, periodically squeezing or rubbing it and its neighbour.

Owen bit his lip, shifting minutely in response to the rubbing and squeezing, but managing to stay in position. It surprised him how sensitive his skin was, though; that rubbing and squeezing was affecting him in this way. He felt himself falling back into the needy mindset he'd been in directly after being spanked. He swallowed hard. "...Sir?" he asked cautiously, but then didn't have a clue how to finish the question. It was hard to concentrate on anything but Ian's hand possessively touching him.

"Yes, son?" Ian stroked and squeezed a little bit more and then let his hand move up to Owen's bottom, beginning to do the same thing.

Owen whimpered as his father squeezed his bottom. "...W... what if I can't hold still?" he asked hesitantly. He really wanted to push his bottom up a little higher now. He tensed up in an effort not to move.

Ian stroked along his son's sit spots. "You can't move out of position, son. Meaning you can't move away from my hand."

Owen whimpered again. "...Can... can I move closer to your hand?" He sounded embarrassed this time, not sure he should like or want to be petted so much when it wasn't for a sexual reason.

"Yes, son. Of course," Ian replied gently.

Owen relaxed at hearing that and immediately arched his back enough that his backside was more exposed, the skin more taut and easier to 'handle'. He let out another tiny whimper. "...Like this too much..." he said, in a tiny voice.

"Don't worry about 'liking' it, son," Ian said, stroking and squeezing each of his buttocks in turn. "That's perfectly okay."

"Not really worried, da...jus confused..." Owen admitted, sinking further into the cushions of the car's seat. "I know why I like it, cuz it feels good... Same reason folks get massaged... Just don't understand the other feelings..." he mumbled against his arm.

"What other feelings?" Ian probed, letting his hand slide up Owen's back to his neck and then stroke down again.

"So safe, I never wanna be out of yer hands. Like I'm free cuz you're decidin what's done...it's... I dunno..." Owen wrinkled his nose at his father.

"I decide what happens to you," Ian commented. "I'm the one in control here. You don't need to worry about anything." He squeezed Owen's thighs.

"Yeah. S'confusing..." Owen shrugged slightly, but very carefully stayed in place.

"You're safe. Protected. In my hands." Ian gently patted his backside.

"Is that why I like it so much? Past it feeling good?" Owen asked softly. "Never wanted to be in anyone's hands 'fore... Didn't think I'd like it so much..."

"I'm your alpha...your dad. You know where you belong," Ian pointed out, scruffing the back of his neck.

"Belong to you and with you..." Owen smiled. "...This feeling in my belly must be all of me agreeing with my heart fer giving in..."

Ian gently stroked and rubbed his son's bottom before giving it a couple of firm pats. "It's right for me too, son," he said.

Owen whimpered, then smiled at Ian. "Love you, sir..."

"I love you, son. You're safe here, in my hands," Ian promised, continuing to gently rub and stroke and pat.

"Always safe with you..." Owen responded.

"And you always will be." Ian stroked down his son's bottom and over his thighs, beginning to pat a bit more frequently and a bit more firmly, almost light swats.

Owen blinked, trying to keep his eyes open, his gaze on Ian. "Like being yours..." he repeated softly, Ian's possessive action making him want to obey any command.

Ian stroked and then gently squeezed his neck. "I like it too, son. Like you being mine. Take your shirt off," he directed.

Owen immediately squirmed out of his T-shirt, folding it and holding it up to his father. He took a quivery breath. He was, for all intents and purposes, fully naked. His stomach flipped at the feeling of vulnerability and how it made him feel completely dependent on his alpha for protection.

Ian took the shirt, putting it away safely, and then proceeded to stroke and rub Owen's shoulders and back, going down over his bottom and lightly swatting before reaching his son's legs. "Good boy," he murmured.

The smile Owen gave his alpha was way too innocent for a man his age. He was still new enough to belonging that Ian's praise made him feel completely content. "Wanna be your good boy..." he whispered.

Ian stroked his cheek. "You are, son," he commented. "I love you."

Owen sighed softly. "Love you too, sir..." He shifted just enough to arch into Ian's hand, not liking to lose contact for even a few seconds.

Ian kept his hand on Owen's skin, stroking down over his back and continuing to swat lightly when his hand passed over his son's bottom.

"What will we do tonight?" Owen asked, even as he arched his back enough to stick his bottom higher up, as if seeking more smacks.

Ian continued to gently smack his son's backside, even as he answered, "We'll watch a movie. You can either sit on my lap or stretch out over my knee, if you need more attention."

"Can I let you decide?" Owen whispered, giving Ian an almost bleary eyed look.

"Of course," Ian replied, gently squeezing his bottom and thighs.

"Please decide for me, alpha..." Owen's voice was soft, slightly nervous. He wasn't sure he would be able to make any good decisions in his current state. He wasnt even sure he'd be able to do basic things to take care of himself.

"I will," Ian promised. "I love you, son. I'll keep you safe."

Owen relaxed at the words and gave Ian a trusting smile. "I know you will, da..." he whispered.

Ian stroked his cheek and squeezed the side of his neck, landing a couple of swats before he paused to gently rub.

Owen whimpered, but didn't move. He needed his father, his alpha, in control of him; and the swats and possessive touching were physical signs that Ian was in charge.

Ian squeezed his son's thighs. "I love you," he reiterated. "You're going to be staying close to me for the whole day."

"For everything?" Owen asked quietly, shifting only enough that his legs were more open and his thighs more accessible.

"For everything," Ian confirmed. "And you're going to keep asking me for permission to do everything, son."

"Yessir..." Owen let out a tiny sigh, then smiled crookedly at Ian.

By now, they'd reached the steakhouse and Ian parked the car, shifting enough so that he could begin possessively rubbing and stroking over Owen's back and down his bottom and legs with both hands.

Owen whimpered, hiding his face against his arms. He held still so his alpha could touch, rub, stroke... whatever he decided he wanted to do. He trusted that Ian would have parked in an area where no one would notice them and cause problems, so he wasn't tense in the least; beyond forcing himself to hold still for the attention.

Ian adjusted Owen's body only enough to make it easier for him to rub and stroke and even swat his son's backside, going a bit harder with the smacks than he had been during their journey.

Owen let out tiny gasps, more hitches in his breathing, with the swats and moaned softly. He turned his head so he was facing Ian, watching his alpha with half-closed eyes. His focus was completely on the other man and the attention he was being given and it was becoming difficult for him to hold still.

As he continued to swat, stroke and squeeze his son's bottom and thighs, Ian scruffed Owen's neck with his other hand, the hold firm and possessive.

Just feeling Ian holding his neck firmly and possessively enabled Owen to calm and hold still for what was being done. He let out tiny whimpers and huffing moans under his breath; not loud, but loud enough Ian would hear them.

"Don't hold back from how you need to react," Ian said gently. "You don't need to hide anything from me, son."

Owen whimpered again, this time more loudly. He trusted Ian. If Ian didn't care if he was loud, then he wouldn't care either. He squirmed a tiny bit, unable to help himself, though he managed to not squirm so much he pulled away from his alpha.

"You're mine, son," Ian said. "I'm going to take hold of you and keep you. No matter what happens. I won't ever let you go."

"I'm yours, da..." Owen agreed, his voice small and tiny. He quivered.

Ian gently ran his fingers over the warm skin of his son's backside, before giving another couple of light smacks.

Owen's whimper was a bit louder, but softer at the same time. It was accepting. He arched his back so his bottom rose to meet Ian's palm. "...Yours, da..." he mumbled in the same tiny, small voice.

Ian gently squeezed his bottom and then began to swat his sit spots. "Mine. I'm your alpha, son," he reiterated. "No matter what you do. No matter what happens. Even if you left again, I'd find a way to bring you home to me."

Owen sniffled at those words, blinking his eyes as he suddenly felt tears pooling. He shivered and pushed his bottom into Ian's palm again. "...Yours...comple...complete... my alpha... my da... ca..can't leave..." He sniffled and swallowed, before taking in a shaky breath.

Ian squeezed his son's neck and then stroked his cheek, rubbing Owen's bottom and down over his thighs. "No, son. You're not allowed to leave me."

Owen closed his eyes, trying to press his neck and cheek into his father's hand. "...Leav...leaving very bad..." he stuttered, taking another shivery breath. "...Be very bad..."

"It would be very naughty," Ian corrected, his thumb stroking Owen's cheek while he squeezed his son's neck. "But it still wouldn't change how I feel about you."

"...Don't wanna be naughty, da..." Owen sniffled, relaxing at the gentle affection, turning his face slightly in an attempt to nuzzle against Ian's hand.

Ian moved closer to his son, kissing his head as he stroked the side of his face. "I know, son. And you aren't. You're my good boy," he murmured.

"...Like being your good boy..." Owen admitted softly, smiling crookedly up at his father.

"You are, son. But you'll be my boy for always, no matter what happens," Ian promised, gently swatting his sit spots.

Owen whined softly but didn't squirm out of the way. His backside was tender from all the attention it had been given throughout the day, very sensitive, but what Owen was focused on was how close it made him feel to Ian. How safe and secure and... wanted... he felt because Ian was making sure he'd feel it whenever he moved or sat and remember who he belonged to.

Ian stroked his son's face, as he rubbed and squeezed a bit more before leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Get dressed and then we'll go inside to eat," he directed.

"Yessir..." Owen sniffled again, awkwardly attempting to pull his underwear and jeans back up without dislodging his father.

Kissing Owen's cheek, Ian began to help his son get his clothes back into place, touching or stroking his back and face every so often.

With Ian's help, Owen was finally able to get his clothing back into place, including his T-shirt. He was still lying face-down on the car seat - his father hadn't told him he could move from that position yet - and glanced up into Ian's face. "Do I need to wash my face, sir?" he asked hesitantly, not sure if the fact he'd been crying was obvious or not.

"Your eyes look a bit red. When we go inside, you can use the restroom before we order," Ian suggested, before adding, "It's okay to get up now."

Owen tentatively rolled over onto his back, wincing slightly as his tender bottom made contact with the seat, but not making any noise or complaint otherwise. He carefully put the seat back into its upright position, but left it pushed all the way back; he didn't know what Ian had planned for after eating, but if his alpha wanted him to lay down again on the way to the hotel, he wouldn't have to spend time readjusting the seat this way. "Can I get out of the car now, or do you want me to wait for you first?" he asked softly.

"I'll come round and get you out." Ian kissed his son's cheek and then did exactly that, getting out of the car and walking round to the other side to help Owen out.

Owen carefully got out of the car, making sure once he was standing that everything was in place, then waited for his father to begin walking, planning to follow behind. "Can I go straight to the bathroom, or do you want me to go to our table first?" he asked quietly.

"Go straight to the bathroom," Ian replied, slowing his steps enough to walk next to his son.

"Yessir..." Owen smiled, opening the door for his father and waiting for him to step through before following him into the building; and then heading directly to the restroom to wash up.

Ian went to their table and sat down, after checking in, picking up the menu to look through.

It didn't take Owen long to take care of his needs and soon, he was making his way back to their table, eyes clear, a smile on his face and no sign at all that his backside stung with every step. No sign if you weren't Ian, at least. He slid into his seat opposite Ian and picked up a menu. "Can I order what I want. or should I order what you order?" He leaned across the table and whispered to his father.

"You can order what you'd like, unless you want me to order for you," Ian whispered back, knowing his son had asked him earlier to make the decisions on what happened later.

"Please order for me?" Owen smiled crookedly, but the look in his eyes was begging. He didn't want to take back control. Not yet.

"Of course." Ian squeezed his son's hand under the table and then proceeded to order for them both.

"Is there anything you want to ask me? About anything?" Owen took a sip of his drink and asked once their waitress left.

"Are there any secrets you haven't told me about?" Ian asked.

"I'm going to assume you mean from the island and not from birth," Owen teased. Pausing, he got a sheepish look on his face. "There was one thing...but I'm not sure I wasn't hallucinating. In fact, I'm pretty sure it had to be a hallucination. It doesn't make sense otherwise."

"What was it?" Ian asked, his full attention on his son.

"When Claire and I were running from Dominus... She was a few yards ahead of me and... I swear this portal opened up and two men stepped through. One of them could have been my twin. Then suddenly, they're being yanked back by two strangely colored men; one was blue! And the portal closed, and I kept running. Didn't tell no one else. Was 'fraid they'd put me in the psych ward..." Owen mumbled the last bit.

Surprised, Ian gently squeezed his son's hand. "Considering the amount of technological advancements that have occurred, it wouldn't surprise me at all if you really did see that."

Owen's eyes were wide and surprised. "You think I have a twin somewhere that knows how to open portals?"

"Or maybe someone else opened the portal and he came through," Ian commented. "Since you said he and his friend were dragged back."

Owen blinked then nodded. "So apparently, my twin needs someone taking care of them too..." He snorted quietly. "I'm a handful in every dimension!"

"A 'handful' I'd miss greatly if I ever lost you," Ian said seriously.

Owen blushed. "I'd miss you too. Guess we just gotta not get 'lost'" He smiled crookedly, then straightened as the waitress put their food in front of them. Owen waited for Ian to tell him to eat.

Ian nodded to him. "Go ahead, son. You can eat."

Owen didn't need any further encouragement. He was hungry! He tucked in and soon, the only sounds at their table were those of chewing and appreciation for the food.

Ian was clearly very happy and relaxed, able to eat with his son. He squeezed Owen's thigh under the table periodically.

They'd eaten slowly, enjoying the meal, but all too soon, the waitress was clearing out their plates and asking if they wanted dessert. Owen looked at Ian. "Do we?" His voice was teasing, but underneath was the real question... 'Am I allowed?'

Ian nodded. "Dessert is fine," he commented, looking at his son carefully to see if Owen needed his father to order for him again.

Owen nodded at his father inconspicuously, though since the waitress was looking at Ian, he probably could have just done it regularly.

Taking that as his cue, Ian ordered dessert for both of them.

Owen waited until she'd gone to take their order to the kitchen before looking down bashfully. "I... I'm not bothering you... Leaving you to decide everything... Am I?"

"Of course not." Ian reached across the table to squeeze his hand. "I only want to be certain that's still what you want."

"Right now, I... I think it's what I need..." Owen admitted quietly, squeezing Ian's hand back. He only let go when the waitress returned and put their desserts in front of them.

Ian waited for the waitress to leave again before he said, "Then I'll trust you to let me know in some way if you stop needing that."

"Yessir..." Owen nodded. He knew it was important to be honest with his father... his alpha... about everything.

"When we've finished, I'll pay the bill and then we'll go back to the hotel," Ian said.

Owen nodded, smiling, and finished his dessert, then sipped on his drink while Ian finished his. "Did you have any problems transferring to the college?" he asked curiously.

Ian shook his head. "Everything went fairly smoothly," he answered. "It all fell into place easily and neatly."

"It doesn't bother you moving from a big University to a tiny community college?" Owen couldn't help but worry Ian was giving up too much to stay near him.

"No, son. It's actually quite nice to be in a smaller area," Ian replied reassuringly.

"I'm thinking 'bout applying..." Owen admitted hesitantly. "I'm still not sure how good I'll be in a classroom, but..." He shrugged faintly. "Gotta figure out something to do with my life... Can't expect you to pay for me forever..."

Ian smiled. "Whatever you want to do, son, I'll support you in every possible way. And even if that doesn't work out, there's plenty more."

"Plenty more?" Owen slanted his head in curiosity.

"Plenty more opportunities," Ian said. "Plenty more things I know you can do. We can look into it together."

"Yeah..." Owen grinned at his father's belief in him. "I'd like that." He glanced over as the waitress left their check on the table.

Ian paid and then stood, walking round the other side of the table so he could help his son to stand and guide him out of the steakhouse.

Owen stood as soon as his father was near him, standing close but still giving the older man room to maneuver. Once by the car, he waited for Ian to open the door and indicate he should get in, then waited for him to either buckle him in or tell him to buckle himself in.

Ian buckled his son in and then moved round to get in the driver's side. "I'd like you to sit in the same way you were on the way here."

"Yessir..." Owen quickly shucked his shirt, folding it and putting it where Ian had placed it before. He then lowered the seat back, unbuttoned his jeans, slid them and his underwear down to below his knees- giving Ian a bashful look but not covering himself- then carefully rolled over onto his stomach. Biting his lip, he looked toward his alpha. "Did I do good?" he whispered.

"Very good." Ian reached out and stroked his cheek, then squeezed his neck. "I love you."

"Love you too, sir..." Owen immediately relaxed, moving his head just enough to bare his throat to Ian.

Ian kept his hand on Owen's throat, gently squeezing and stroking as he began to drive.

Owen relaxed further, the show of dominance calming him and giving him a sense of safety. "Yours..." he whispered.

"Mine," Ian agreed, fingers gently stroking Owen's pulse point. "For always."

Owen's trembling smile didn't surprise him. The fact he started crying did. "Why 'm I crying?" He sniffled in bafflement.

"Maybe because your emotions are affecting you deeply?" Ian suggested.

Owen snorted. "Duh!" He blinked as he realized the sarcastic tone he had taken with his father and blushed. "...I mean why now?" he said quickly, his eyes dropping in apology.

Ian wasn't offended, though he did give his son's bottom a light swat for the attitude. "Maybe because it's all building up."

"All the best feels?" Owen bit his lip. "Like the way I want to belong to you and obey everything you tell me to do and the being scared of wanting that cuz part of me always wants to do the opposite of what I'm told?"

Ian nodded. "It's bound to feel a bit overwhelming, son." He scruffed the back of Owen's neck.

Owen whimpered softly, exposing his neck a bit more. "W... when I f... feel o... overwhelmed, I tend to d… do stuff... stuff y... you'd think is naughty..."

"You won't get the chance to do that right now, son." Ian patted his bottom firmly. "I won't be letting go of you any time soon, son. I won't be giving that control back to you any time soon."

The sudden urge Owen had at those words was so intense, only the fact Ian had told him to lay as he was kept him in place. When his brain caught up to his body, he blushed darkly and quivered at the implications.

"I've got you," Ian reiterated, softly and reassuringly, as he stroked down Owen's back. "I've got you, son, and I love you."

Owen swallowed hard and nodded, still blushing darkly. "Almost moved, but... stopped m'self in time..." he said sheepishly. "Wanna obey you..." he whispered.

"I know, son. You're doing really well," Ian encouraged gently.

"I feel really young..." Owen admitted in a small voice. "Helpless... it's... unsettling." He bit his lip and blinked his eyes rapidly. Hitching his bottom up a little higher, he whispered, "...'m yours..." It was a statement, but he said it as if he didn't feel he had the right to say it.

"You are mine, son," Ian said. "I love you. I know it's scary, how you're feeling, but you aren't dropping alone. I'm right here to catch you. To hold you."

Owen swallowed hard again. "You've got me... not alone," he repeated softly, nearly to himself.

"Never alone," Ian responded. "Never alone again." Stroking Owen's bottom, he put voice to an idea he'd had. "I want to get you a gift. Something that'll remind you that I have you even if we might not be in the same place."

Owen grinned crookedly. "What kinda gift, da?" He liked the idea of something that would keep his alpha close, even if physically far away.

"I was thinking a ring, with an inscription on it," Ian answered.

"That'd work well..." Owen whispered. "No chance a getting caught on something an breaking... or anything else..." He bit his lip.

"And it wouldn't draw the wrong kind of attention, either," Ian commented.

Owen sighed softly, looking out from under half closed eyes. "Wrong kind of attention?" he asked quietly.

"It won't reveal anything of our relationship to other people," Ian clarified. "Meaning it won't make things uncomfortable for you when you find work."

Owen's eyes widened. "Yeah... good thinking..." He blushed that he hadn't thought of it.

"You don't need to worry that you didn't think about it, son," Ian said gently. "I'm your father. Your alpha. One of my jobs is to worry about things like that."

Owen nodded hesitantly. He was used to taking care of everyone else...thinking of things that kept them safe. It was hard to get used to the fact that Ian would do that for him. "Because you take care of me..." he whispered.

"I do," Ian replied. "And I always will. No matter what happens."

"Thank you..." Owen's smile was full of all the trust and love he had for his father... his alpha. He settled down, just enjoying the drive back to the motel. Part of him wished they could drive for longer than it would take to get to the hotel. Not that he didn't want to get back to their room... But something about the confined space of the car, the limited area that he could move, the complete privacy of it... It felt cozy and warm and he wanted to bask in that feeling for a bit.

Reaching the hotel, Ian parked the car and, much like he had done outside the steakhouse, used that opportunity to stroke his son's back and bottom with one hand while his other scruffed Owen's neck.

Owen sunk into the cushions of the car seat with a tiny, whimpering moan. "... Yours, Alpha..." he mumbled, almost incoherently.

"Mine. My boy. My good boy," Ian said, gently swatting Owen's bottom and then rubbing.

"Your good boy..." Owen whispered in a happy tone, shifting minutely so his sit spots were more exposed.

Ian delivered a couple of light smacks to Owen's sit spots and then squeezed his thighs. "I love you."

"I love you too, da..." Owen cleared his throat and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, continuing to stay in place.

Ian stroked his cheek, rubbing and caressing his son a bit more before he began to carefully dress Owen once more.

Owen stayed in position but moved however slightly he needed to for Ian to dress him.

Ian got his son fully dressed and then stroked his cheek. "We'll get out of the car now and go to our room," he said. "Stay there until I come round to get you out."

"Yessir..." Owen promised and stayed still.

Ian got out of the car and walked round to the passenger side, so he could open the door and reach in to guide his son out.

Owen turned his face toward the door, so he could watch his father.

Ian opened the door and grasped his son's wrist, leading Owen out of the car and wrapping his arm around his son's waist.

Owen leaned against his father as they walked, letting himself look like someone who'd drunk too much.

Ian led his son into the hotel room and ran his hand down Owen's spine. "Take your clothes off," he directed.

Owen didn't even hesitate, undressing quickly and folding his clothes, putting them on a nearby chair.

As soon as Owen was naked, Ian led him over to the bed and sat down, drawing his son down over his lap, holding him in place with a hand on his lower back.

Owen immediately slumped, reaching forward to draw a pillow to himself and clutching it tightly. "Love you, sir..." he said quietly, accepting.

"I love you, son. More than I could ever fully put into words." Ian stroked down his back, patted his bottom, and then turned the television on so they could watch a movie, with his son still over his lap.

Owen settled to watch the movie, fully relaxed. "Words aren't necessary..." Owen smiled, snuggling down and shifting just enough that they would both be comfortable, but Ian would have easy access to every part of him. "You take care of me... I can feel your love..."

Ian scruffed the back of his son's neck, his other hand stroking down Owen's back, over his bottom and legs. "I'll always take care of you, son."

"I know you will... Wish I could do something for you..." Owen stretched like a cat, unconsciously pressing his body up to follow Ian's hand.

"You do plenty for me, son," Ian said, putting a bit more pressure behind the rubbing and stroking. "You've given me someone to take care of. A son I think the world of."

"Do you feel as good taking care of me...taking charge over me...as I do having you take care of me and take charge of me?" Owen's voice was hesitant, but curious.

"Yes, son. Taking care of you and being in charge of you makes me feel very good," Ian replied.

Owen smiled at that. "I... I like obeying you..." he said hesitantly.

"I know." Ian squeezed his thighs. "And I like you obeying me too."

"Wish I'd obeyed you before..." Owen admitted. "Even if you weren't telling me what to do then..." He squirmed a little and opened his legs a bit more, so Ian could get to his inner thighs as well.

"You are now." Ian gently swatted and then lightly rubbed his son's inner thighs. "I cared for you deeply then. It makes me happy that I can have you in my life now."

"...Belong to you now...everything's so much better..." Owen sighed, peaceful and contented.

"It is," Ian agreed. "So much better for both of us."

"The plumbers and electricians are coming tomorrow... do you want to be there to supervise? Or should we take a day off...stay here?" Owen asked quietly, trying to act as if whatever answer Ian gave was okay with him...although part of him was craving just staying with his alpha, practicing obedience.

"We can always stay here," Ian commented. "I don't think we need to supervise their work."

"I'd like to, if that's okay with you..." Owen bit his lip and glanced over his shoulder hopefully.

"That's fine, son." Ian stroked his cheek and squeezed the nape of his neck.

Owen couldn't press his face into Ian's palm, the way he was laying, but he managed to press his neck up into his alphas grip. He glanced at the TV and realized at least a quarter of the movie was through and he had no clue what was going on.

Ian squeezed his son's neck and then gently patted his bottom and stroked where he'd patted, before delivering a couple of light swats.

Owen let out a tiny whimper, pushing his bottom up in an almost demanding way. The more sensitive his backside became, the more attention he craved. He didn't understand it.

Ian delivered several more light smacks, interspersing rubs and squeezes between the swats, his other hand scruffing Owen's neck.

Owen wanted the smacks, but it was the scruffing that helped ease any nerves he may have had left (and there weren't many). "Yours..." he said in a quivering voice, pressing his neck more firmly into Ian's hand.

"Mine," Ian agreed, continuing the affection and scruffing his son.

Owen wasn't sure how he managed to keep from squirming off his alpha's lap. By this time, the movie may as well have been paint drying for all the attention he paid to it. He was too busy making needy, mewling sounds while trying to make every part of himself available for Ian's attention. His whole body was quivering, the sensitivity of his skin making it impossible not to react vocally, even if his white knuckled grip on the pillow made it possible to hold still physically.

Ian wrapped his arm around Owen's waist, pulling his son close against his stomach, so that, if Owen did squirm too much, he wouldn't fall.

"...Sk... skin tingles..." Owen whimpered as he wriggled helplessly.

"Is it uncomfortable?" Ian asked gently.

"N... no... n... not exactly..." Owen whined softly and shifted so his hips weren't across his alpha's lap, the sensitivity manifesting unexpectedly in a different way. "May I go to the bathroom?" he asked in a whisper, still in an obedient mindset. He was bright red, though.

"Yes, son." Ian let go of Owen, so he could stand up.

Owen carefully stood. He didn't try and hide from Ian... he figured the older man deserved to see all his reactions, voluntary or otherwise, but he couldn't face him. He kept his eyes on the ground and slowly walked to the bathroom. "M... may I take a shower, sir?" he asked his alpha hesitantly, before stepping through the door. Cold water would be very helpful right about now, he was certain.

"Yeah. I'll grab us a couple of beers while you do that." Ian stood up.

"Thank you..." Owen finally looked up, a bashfully embarrassed look on his face. "How long do I have?" he asked.

"You can take up to twenty minutes," Ian answered, giving his son a warm smile.

Owen nodded and quickly set an alarm on his watch, so he'd know it was time to come back out, then went in to shower. He left the door open and soon, the sound of spraying water could be heard... along with Owen's mutters of, "Cold... cold... cold..."

Ian put the beers in their minifridge and then waited for his son to finish in the shower.

It didn't take long for the shower to do its intended job and Owen got out. When he went to dry off, though, he couldn't stand the roughness of the hotel towels on his skin. Hissing, he dabbed at the water, but didn't dry thoroughly, deciding it would be better to air dry. He walked back into the main room, giving his father a sheepish look. "Sorry, da..."

"It's all right," Ian said reassuringly, wrapping his arm around Owen's shoulders and giving him a tight squeeze. He then walked over to the mini-fridge and took out the beers, handing one to his son.

Owen took the beer with a grateful smile, waiting until Ian had indicated he could open it before popping the top off. "I... I didn't expect that. Guess I was more sensitive than I thought..." he said softly, before shivering slightly. The air conditioning on his still damp skin was chilling him, but now that the cold shower had calmed his hormones, he was able to tell how agitated the nerves of his skin were and he knew trying to dry off more completely would hurt. Even if it was necessary, he wasn't able to bring himself to do it.

"I shoulda said something earlier... Cept I didn't figure it out till..." He shrugged, the sheepish embarrassment still on his face. He wasn't ashamed, though. Owen was nothing if not a realist... Pragmatic. He couldn't help if his body had reacted to stimulation. There'd been nothing inappropriate in either of their intentions, so there was no reason for shame; even if he was embarrassed as hell. "I promised to tell you if it was too much and I already failed..." This time, he did look ashamed.

"We're still learning, son," Ian said reassuringly. "Still feeling our way around this and each other. It doesn't matter how your body reacts. If you forget to tell me something, we'll deal with it."

"I... Believe it or not, I'm okay with my reaction. S'long as it doesn't bother you..." Owen sighed. "I'm more upset I broke my promise to you, however unintentionally I did it..."

Ian stroked the side of Owen's face. "Your reactions don't bother me, son, no matter what they are," he said. "As for not telling me it was too much, perhaps that problem could be solved by you telling me whatever you're feeling during whatever we're doing."

Owen nodded. "...So completely open, not hiding anything, no matter how embarrassing it might be or how vulnerable it makes me feel..." His voice was soft and accepting rather than reluctant.

"Exactly," Ian answered. "You need to be prepared to trust me with everything."

Owen nodded. "...My whole life in your hands... Mind, body, soul..." Owen's grin was cheeky, although his eyes were completely serious.

"Yes, son. You're entirely in my hand. I decide what happens to you, son," Ian said.

"That's... that's good... I need that..." Owen admitted, in a small voice.

"I know, son," Ian replied. "And I'm going to give you what you need. For always."

Owen cleared his throat. "What now, da?"

"I think you're a bit too uncomfortable to continue how we have been." Ian had been paying attention to his son. "Why don't we restart the movie and sit and watch it together?"

Owen smiled happily. "I'd like that...can I sit next to you?"

"Of course," Ian replied, smiling.

Owen grinned even wider, waiting for Ian to tell him what to or where to sit.

Ian walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, patting it next to him. "Come and sit down, son."

Owen quickly obeyed, moving to sit beside his father. He managed to settle down without too much discomfort, but it took a few moments to do so.

Ian wrapped his arm around Owen's shoulders as he put the movie on again.

Owen leaned more and more on Ian as the movie ran. By the time the credits were running, he was leaning almost completely on Ian and half asleep.

Ian switched the movie off and then carefully moved his son so he could tuck Owen into bed.

"Love you, da..." Owen mumbled as he was tucked in, blearily reaching toward Ian so he could keep some type of contact. And then he was asleep.

Ian settled on the bed next to his son, stroking Owen's hair from his face as he stretched out and closed his own eyes, drifting into sleep.

They'd had three days of just being together, either in the hotel room talking and bonding, or going out and learning the area that they'd be living in. In the entire three days, Ian had limited his physical affection to hugging Owen and stroking his hair, allowing Owen's skin to 'heal' and not be as sensitive. If it hadn't been for the fact that Ian kept giving him orders to obey- he still wasn't allowed to do anything without asking permission- Owen might have started to become afraid that Ian had changed his mind. As it was, by the time the electricity, plumbing and sewage were connected, Owen was getting worried and antsy. It was a good thing they could start working on the house again, he thought.

"We should be able to finish up the roof this week." Owen smiled over at Ian from his position sitting cross legged on the bed. "And then start the inside. And since we now have plumbing and sewage installed, we could conceivably stay overnight sometimes if you wanted..." He was careful to word it as a statement of fact that left all decisions to Ian. That was quickly becoming second nature.

Ian nodded and smiled, letting his hand rest on Owen's shoulder, sitting on the bed with his son. "I think that would be a good idea. It'll get us used to living there."

"What time do you want to head over and start work?" Owen smiled brightly.

"I thought maybe we could do that after lunch," Ian commented, wrapping his arm around his son's shoulders. "And before lunch, I can give you some attention."

"After lunch sounds good..." Owen nodded, Ian's words not fully registering. He assumed the attention would be more cuddling and hugs like his father had been doing. Owen missed his alpha. Sighing under his breath, he started to pull away from Ian. "I'll just go grab a quick shower and then we can eat..."

"Not yet, son." Ian wrapped his other arm around Owen too, drawing his son closer and effectively 'trapping' him.

"I gotta get cleaned up if we're going to go eat..." Owen said, in what he meant to be a reasonable tone, but instead sounded like a bratty child. Huh. He was feeling more antsy than he'd realized. He attempted to tug himself free.

One of Ian's hands found his way to his son's neck, gently scruffing him, even as his other hand stroked and tickled gently over Owen's ribs. "I said not yet."

Owen relaxed slightly as Ian scruffed him, the move a show of dominance he'd been craving. He didn't know why he kept pushing. He didn't want to be in trouble...but he couldn't seem to stop himself when he said, "I've got to use the bathroom!" Which was a lie. His eyes widened, and he flushed from immediate guilt.

"I shouldn't need to tell you not to lie to me, son." Ian bent Owen forward slightly, exposing his backside to give a firm swat.

"No, sir. I'm sorry..." Owen said, in a tiny, remorseful voice. "I don't know why I said that... I don't hafta go to the bathroom..." He sounded guilty and upset with himself.

Ian stroked the side of his son's face and then carefully moved his boy across his lap, securing him there with an arm wrapped around his waist. "You're starting to test me, son."

"I didn't wanna be in trouble!" Owen protested, with a tiny whimper, and threw his hands back over his bottom.

Ian took hold of his son's hands and held them out of the way, against his back, before he squeezed Owen's neck. "Settle down, son."

Owen tried to obey the order, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from squirming and struggling. He'd wanted Ian to take over completely... So, what was his problem? He didn't understand himself. "T... trying, sir... C... can't..." he whimpered helplessly.

Ian slid his hand up under Owen's shirt, stroking his bare skin, and pushed his pants down. "I'm in control here, son. You don't need to do anything but submit."

Owen whimpered again, but his father's words seemed to help a little, calming him slightly. He was quivering from his effort to obey and hold still, though. "I wanna submit..." he whispered. "Why am I fighting you?" His confusion was clear.

Ian began to remove his son's clothes, figuring making his son vulnerable to him would be a good start.

Owen tried to squirm away as his clothing was removed, much like a disagreeable toddler, but Ian still had his hands behind his back, so he didn't get far. The more clothing Ian took from him, despite his fighting, the clearer it was that Ian did have complete control over him. Owen whimpered softly, still squirming, but tiring of the struggle. "You control me..." he whispered, before finally giving up and letting Ian strip him without struggle.

"I do, son. As your father. As your alpha." Once Owen was entirely naked, Ian squeezed his neck and then began to stroke down his son's back, over his bottom, down his legs.

Owen whimpered softly, letting himself melt over Ian's knees. "I'm sorry I lied, da... was horrible wrong an I knew it 'mediately..." Owen confessed apologetically.

"It's okay, son. I've got you." Ian began to firmly pat his son's bottom.

Owen began crying almost immediately. But he didn't fight and relaxed even further at his father's words. He began to realize; it wasn't the swats he was missing. It was hearing his father tell him that he belonged to him while physically holding him still and in place, even when Owen couldn't hold himself still. It was Ian controlling him completely, while reminding him verbally who he belonged to. Ian had been verbally reminding him the last three days and physically reminding him in various ways, but not at the same time. He slumped completely and gave up; gave in to his alpha.

Ian stroked and squeezed the back of his son's neck. "I love you. You belong to me, son. I'm never going to let you go," he promised, squeezing Owen's bottom and thighs.

"I... I love you, da..." Owen cried softly. "...Yours... Shouldn't a fought you... Should only obey..." Owen was completely boneless, accepting whatever Ian did. "N... need... y... you. Ne... needed the... this..." he said, with a tiny sob, trying to tell Ian of the 'revelation' he'd had, but unable to find the words.

"I know, son," Ian replied gently. "But I didn't want to push you too much, considering how sensitive and affected you were the last time I gave you this kind of affection."

"N... not the... this ex... exactly..." Owen shivered and cried a little more as he tried to focus enough to speak. "...Y... you c... controlling... Phy... physical and v… ve… ver... speaking..." Owen swallowed hard. " ...Same time..."

"Even if it's just hugging you or holding you on my lap and talking about how you're mine?" Ian asked, to clarify.

Owen nodded vigorously, before realizing he had to say the words. "Yessir."

"Then I'll keep doing that." Ian stroked down Owen's back, brushing his fingers over his son's hips.

Owen shifted again and whimpered. The more control Ian asserted... "Feel safer..." he whispered, his crying turning to soft sniffles as he began to drop emotionally, relying on Ian to protect and keep him.

"You're safe. With me," Ian said softly and reassuringly. "You will always be safe with me. Your alpha. Your dad."

"Safest with you... even than myself..." Owen admitted in a whisper.

"I won't let you go," Ian promised. "I won't ever let you go."

"Cuz I'm yours?" Owen asked hesitantly. "I belong to you?"

"You're mine, son," Ian confirmed. "You belong to me. No matter what happens."

Owen slumped the remainder of the way over Ian's lap. "I'm sorry I was naughty and lied and argued and fought... wasn't the right way to get your attention... wasn't right to do at all..." he whispered.

"There are better ways to get my attention, son," Ian said. "But no matter how you try to get it, you'll always have my attention. I'm not going to stop giving it to you."

"Love you, da..." Owen found himself squeezing Ian's hand gently and attempting to snuggle against him, despite his position.

Ian leaned down and wrapped his arms tightly around his son. "I love you. Don't ever worry about how you need to react."

Owen let out a happy sigh as he felt himself wrapped up in Ian's arms. "Gotta just... Talk to ya, Alpha Daddy..." He cuddled back into Ian's grip. "Even if I'm not sure what to say, sometimes just talking to ya helps straighten my head out and then I can tell you where I need help..."

"Exactly, son," Ian replied. "Like I said before. Every time you feel something, no matter what it is you feel, you need to tell me."

"I'll try, da... Not used to talking 'bout stuff I'm feeling..." Owen admitted.

"I know, son. But that's one of the orders I'm giving you," Ian said.

"So... no matter how confused I sound or how embarrassing what I'm telling you..." Owen swallowed and waited.

"No matter what." Ian squeezed Owen's neck; stroked down his back; gently patted his bottom. "I will always want to know, son."

"Okay, da..." Owen all but promised to do as his father ordered.

"Good boy," Ian murmured, squeezing his thighs.

Owen let out a happy, burbling sound at the praise, not realizing he was doing so, or he would have been embarrassed. He let his legs fall open so no part of them was blocked. It made him completely vulnerable.

Ian stroked and caressed over his son's body, keeping a tight hold of Owen's hands as he touched and stroked, squeezing Owen's neck and his bottom and thighs.

"Hold me tighter, da? Please?" Owen asked quietly, beginning to squirm as his skin became more sensitive to touch. "...Hard to hold still... Getting... sensitive..." he reluctantly admitted. He didn't want the affection to stop, but he knew his father would want to know.

Ian carefully moved his son into his arms, cuddling Owen tightly on his lap, hand scruffing his son. "I love you."

"Love you too, da... So much..." Owen said, pressing as tight to his father as he could get.

Ian hugged his son as tightly as it was possible to without hurting him. "I've got you," he whispered.

"You got me?" Owen sounded a lot younger than he normally would. He squirmed a bit to test his father's grip on him.

Ian tightened his arms around his son, kissing his head. "For always," he promised.

Owen just slumped in his father's arms, letting his head fall onto Ian's shoulder. "...For always is good..." he whispered, nuzzling against Ian's shoulder. "...I'll be a good boy...won't move till you tell me..." he whispered. He wasn't pushing or testing or defying any longer.

"You are my good boy," Ian whispered, kissing his son's head and stroking his hair, scruffing his neck.

Owen sighed happily, content to stay still and obey.

Ian continued to hold his son close and tight...trapped against him...stroking his hair and down over his back. "I've got you, son," he murmured.

"S'all I want...for you to have me..." Owen admitted. "Thank you for getting me, da..."

"I'll always have you." Ian stroked his hair. Kissed his head. "I won't let you go again, son. I promise."