Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
*****
"Son, you have to spread your legs a little more in your squat," Ralph sighed. He watched his son carefully, making sure to note how each muscle flexed and moved with each bow downward. "Straighten your hips, and make sure the bar isn't on your neck. You have to straighten things out, or you could hurt yourself. I would hate for the best damn shortstop the college has seen in ages roll a metal bar on their vertebrae..."
Ralph had his hands on Austin's hips, the similar-looking but smaller-statured man going through his reps as his beefy father watched with a calculating gaze. Stiff calves, straining traps underneath the athletic shirt, and a grimacing expression told him all that the older stud needed to know; he was pushing his son to his limit.
The garage that they were working out in was nothing spectacular. Even the weights that the two were utilizing were hand-me-downs from Ralph's college days working out at home. The weights were rusty, but like an old car that just didn't know when to die, they were as reliable as well as prone to give some form of disease. Well, maybe not that bad, but Ralph begged to differ. It was actually quite crude for Austin to work out in such conditions since he was one of the best the college had. Austin was always a starter and always on top. His dad took a moment and smiled to himself, watching his son strain against the weight.
Austin grunted as he did a few more reps, feeling his toned yet somewhat thick back muscles starting to scream at him. "I-I don't think I can finish this set, Dad," he groaned, sweat rolling down his face and dripping off his face and rolling down his chest from the exertion evident from how he was starting to shake from struggling with the weight. He hated being a quitter, but he knew better than to push himself too far and end up getting hurt.
"Push just a little more, son," Ralph urged, but his actions showed his confidence was misplaced; he put his hands right underneath the bar. He saw Austin get hit by a pitch which nearly tore his ACL a few weeks back. It always left him an emotional wreck when Austin ended up in the E.R., but he'd be damned if he'd allow his son to half-ass the squat. He was so close already, and Ralph knew Austin had it in him. Giving the bar a bit of force underneath to help, Ralph added, "Think about how good it will feel to have done three sets of ten. How good you'll squat on the mound. You'll be able to stay there for hours on Friday. Concentrate...and push like you fucking mean it."
Spurred on by his father's words, the athlete pushed on, slowly raising himself back up to a standing position despite his wobbling legs as he felt a surge of pride shoot through him for managing to make it, even if he did have a little help getting there. That was pretty much the story of his life, trying his hardest to achieve greater heights in his baseball career but always needing his dad to push him that little bit extra in the end. Austin wanted to be able to do it all by himself, but he knew his father meant well and wanted to do what he could to see him improve.
With a final grunt, Austin racked the weights and let out a long puff of air, slumping back against the wall of the garage. "Think I'm gonna have to call it there for tonight, Dad. I don't think my leg can take much more," the young stud sighed, internally cursing his injury and the weakness it left him with even after he healed.
Making sure that the bar was properly locked in the squat rack, the beefy father nodded. "All good. You did well today. You'll need your strength for later."
Noticing that Austin was looking like he was in a bit of pain, Ralph scanned over his son quickly. Austin was a prime specimen. Austin's chest was built, and as he took in puffs of air, it reminded Ralph of his days before he dirty bulked. He was lean, but with just enough muscle to be able to take several hits and dish one back ten times as hard. The sweat dripping down over his tanktop and his athletic shorts left little to the imagination, and Ralph blushed slightly when he realized he was looking too hard at the sweaty outline that formed right in the crotch of Ausin's shorts.
It reminded him too much of the quick fling that he brought home a few nights ago from the bar. "Your leg feeling okay? We can grab some ice from the freezer and make sure you get a warm shower after." Walking forward, Ralph felt no guilt in kneeling close by his son and feeling his kneecap. Like any type of machine, the body needed to be primed and ready for whatever activity was coming. The game coming up was no exception.
"Massage would feel pretty nice right about now, but I'm pretty sure Tim would kill me if I texted him at this hour, not to mention if he found out I was working out this hard after practice," Austin replied, rather wishing he had access to the trainer's gifted hands. He could work the knot out of any muscle and make you feel like a new man.
Austin looked down at his dad with a raised eyebrow. "It hurts, but it's not like it's broken, Pops. You don't gotta go feeling up my knee every day," he huffed. "If something was wrong, I'd tell you."
"Hey...I mean..."
Dropping the thought of taking the place of Tim and shaking his head, Ralph pulled away suddenly, realizing what he was about to suggest to his son. "Don't worry about it. Or rather...I guess I need to stop worrying about it." Ralph looked a tad bit nervous, clearing his throat and making his way over towards the door that led into the family room. The knee-high socks that he wore along with his tennis shoes gave him a sporty but comfortable look, and he leaned against the doorframe.
"Sorry, son. Seeing you almost fall down on the field must have released some paternal instincts in me. I still remember when you nearly busted your knee right on the field," Ralph said. "Made the damn diving play to second, though. If you were old enough back then, I'd buy you a beer..."
Smirking, Austin shook his head. "It was a pretty great play, I guess, even if the ball nearly shattered my knee. And it's fine, I know you're just doting because you don't like seeing me hurt," the player waved dismissively as he took a small towel and wiped his face off before walking into the house to join his father. "At the time, I was more worried that I'd probably never be able to run again, or I'd end up in a wheelchair or something. Glad it was just a damaged ACL and not a complete tear. Anyway, what's for dinner? I haven't eaten since breakfast, and I'm starved!" Austin smiled.
