Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
*****
New message from Sandra — Don't forget what we talked about! Go talk to Aaron. Luv you.
...
I read the text message from my wife and put back the phone in my pocket. Aaron was his son. After living with his father for a few years when he was a teenager, he came back to his mom's at the beginning of the summer, as we were living closer to his college.
I never had children with my first wife, so kids were not my specialty. Well, he was eighteen, so not really a kid anymore, but still, we barely talked since he was there. I didn't want to be this kind of father-in-law, an old asshole who seemed to be disconnected from everything and unable to have a proper conversation with his stepson. So after discussing it with Sandra, she said to go talk to him when she would be at work, and to find some things to do together. My wife worked from nine to five, but as a contractor my working hours were flexible. I was often alone with Aaron, and I found it awkward that we both were in the house, not talking to each other.
But what a forty-year-old could do with an eighteen-year-old? What would a father do? And Aaron was gay. Not that it was a problem—he made his coming-out to his mother a few months ago, and Sandra was very supportive. But would he like the same things as me? Could I offer him to do some physical activities?
God, I sound like an old fool.
Sandra told me I had a lot of prejudices. Aaron was surely like any other boy his age. And, anyway, it was useless to ruminate, I just had to ask him.
I left the kitchen and went upstairs, to the end of the corridor. I lifted my fist in front of the door but hesitated. What if he refused? What if I was going to say something hurtful? Well, I was the grown man here, it was time to act like one. I knocked.
"Yes?"
I opened the door slowly and entered the room. Aaron was sitting on his bed, playing some video games on his PS4.
"Hey, Aaron. So, I was... I was wondering if you would want to do something together. I was going to do some repairs on my old car, maybe I could teach you some stuff?"
He's going to say no. Why the fuck would he want to learn mechanics?
"Oh, yes, I'd love that." He smiled broadly, paused his game and put his controller on his nightstand.
"Great. Don't you want to finish your game first?"
"No, I don't care, I can play later. I'd rather go outside."
"But you're not leaving the house often, why is that?"
"I don't have friends here yet. I hope it'll change when I start college."
We left his room and made our way downstairs.
"Yes, for sure," I said. "College years were my best. You'll make lifetime friends there."
"Cool. Hey, are my clothes okay to work on the car?" He was wearing blue jeans and a black tee-shirt.
"Yeah, don't worry, we won't do messy things."
We left the house through the kitchen's door. It was a hot sunny day, without any cloud or wind. My old 1974 Opel Manta was on the side of the house, and there was at least some shadow there. God, I loved this car. It was yellow, with a black stripe on each side. A thing of beauty. Aaron never talked about it, and I was thinking he didn't care for it. But seeing his enthusiasm, I was maybe wrong.
"You know," he said while watching the motor I had opened earlier. "Since I'm living here, I always wanted to ask you to show me your car."
"For real? Why didn't you?"
"Well. To tell you the truth, I didn't dare. I thought you would say no." He was looking at the ground, his face red from shyness, and that saddened me.
"I'm sorry I gave this impression to you, Aaron. I thought the same thing about you. I think the lack of talking between us is the reason." Now I can confirm, I'm an old fool.
"Yeah, maybe."
"Anyway, do you want a beer? It's fucking hot, outside."
"Huh... I'm not really... supposed to."
"Come on, you're eighteen, don't tell me you never had a beer."
"Of course I had," he said proudly. "But don't tell mom, please. She'll have a crisis."
I laughed. "It'll be our secret, don't worry. Come on, have one."
I gave him a Stella Artois from the cooler at the entrance of the garage and opened one for me. That felt good, refreshing. I took the time to properly look at Aaron for the first time since he lived here. I never realized he was looking exactly like his mother, male version. Dirty blond hair, not very tall—something like five feet six inches—skinny and pale skin. All the attributes I loved in Sandra.
"Okay, so we need to change the carburetor. I already removed the old one." I took a box on the ground and opened it to take the new piece. "Here's the new carb we'll install."
"What does it do?"
"It mixes fuel with air, so that the combustion engine can work."
"You'll need to teach me everything you know. I find that fascinating, but I know nothing."
"I'd love that, Aaron. Let's say that each day I'll teach you something different."
"Awesome."
Here I was, bonding with my stepson. It was easier than I thought.