Thread by @LordDynamite__

"Come to Mommy" - #henmike | Henry x Michael

CW // Pseudo-Incest, Mommy Kink, Agere, Self-Harm Scars Mention, Brest Feeding, Overstimulation, Fingering + Clit Rubbing

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Michael has an incredibly stressful day, and is overwhelmed—burdened with urges, he goes to the one comfort he has at the time, his Mommy—well, his Uncle Henry to be pampered and cared for.

The hasty yet melodic sound of gravel crunching under the wheels of Michael’s bike. His face dripped with tears and sweat, red lining his swollen, puffy eyes. He’d left school to immediately go to his uncle’s home. He yearned for the older mans’ soft touch and praise;

everything was getting to be too much. Wind blasted past his face, staining tears on his cheeks. By the time he’d gotten to Henry’s house, he’d already been drenched in sweat. The back and underarms of his hoodie stained and drenched in sweat.

Groaning as he shoves his bike onto its’ side with a loud thud, he stumbles up the driveway to the side door. Backpack hanging from one of his shoulders, and hair clinging to his sweat slick skin, he knocks at the door;

disregarding the knowledge of an extra key hidden under a plant.

The door swings open, revealing his beloved uncle, typical jeans and an orange t-shirt adorning his body, caressing his body perfectly. Dropping his backpack to the ground by the door,

the boy throws himself towards the comfort, basking in the sharp smell of aftershave that clings to his body from his early morning routine and the musky cologne that he can still catch a whiff of on his clothes. Sweat from Michael’s face and hair leave stains over Henry’s shirt,

but his initial reaction is concern. “Mikey? What ever has gotten into you? What happ—“ He’s cut off by the desperate, red-rimmed eyes looking up at him with pleas. The softest sigh leaves his lips,

brushing his fingers through the boys’ murky strands, pushing them up out of his face. “Alright…” heaving another sigh, he gestures with his eyes towards the bathroom. “Why don’t you go and get cleaned up? I’ll bring you in a towel and some extra clothes, okay, Sweetheart?”

The thick southern accent bounces around in Michael’s skull, helping ease his mind. After only a moment of hesitation, he nods and pulls away from his abrupt embrace. “Ok…” A soft sniffle scrunches his nose, as he shuffles over to the bathroom.

“I’ll come in and clean your hair the way you like!”

Michael clicked the door closed, and surveyed the bathroom. Tan walls were lined with white tiles, Mrs. Emily was always so good with decorating. Tugging his hoodie off over his head,

he placed his hand flat against the binder that constricted his chest. Heaving an exhale as he struggled to pull it off his body, he made eye contact with himself in the mirror. Face still red from being in the sun for so long, and hair matted with sweat,

he felt like he looked disgusting. For a moment, he considered just stuffing himself back into the hoodie and disappearing from the house, going home and dealing with… that mess, but the idea of being home made his stomach churn.

He lost himself in the mirror for a while, eyes trailing from his face to his arms. Skin littered with different types of scars, ranging from white lines that sometimes raised ever so slightly off his skin, to deep purple and dark pink scars that are raised like welts.

His biceps were littered with angry red lines, badly bandaged over, still letting ends of cuts peek through. His chest and stomach had thin, faded lines, but those were months old by now, barely remembered amongst the chaos.

Exhaling softly, he let his gaze fall to the clothing in hand. Michael carefully folded the hoodie and set it on the toiler seat, knowing the bathroom was spotless, before searching the room for a place to hang his binder up properly. He’d have to wash it when he got home…

His thoughts trailed, leaving him feeling lightheaded. Slipping the knee-length jeans from his waist, he found himself tracing the countless deep-rooted scars that were scattered over the sensitive skin.

Picking softly at an old acne scar, he numbly gazed down at a history of damage. Smaller, faded scars were hid under the keloid scars that marred his once clean flesh. Abruptly torn from his thoughts by the knock at the door, he instinctively went to cover himself with his hands.

“Sweetie? It’s just me. Can I come in?” Henry spoke from the other side of the door, carefully clutching one of his sweaters in hand, as well as a baby blue towel. Michael exhales shakily, voice trembling as he spoke. “Yeah… Of…Of course.”

He side-stepped out of the way of the door as it swung open slowly, folding the shorts in hand. “Hey…” Henry started, eyes trailing to the wounds; sure to make a mental note for wound care needed later. His bouncy and vibrant personality brought Michael from his pit of thoughts.

“I brought’cha in a towel, and one’a my special sweaters ye’ like so much!” He grinned, beard framing his smile. “Thank you…” Michael spoke, an air of brevity leaving Henry concerned. “Well, sweetheart, how ‘bout I get the bath all ready for you!”

He carefully squeezed past Michael just to kneel by the side of the tub.

Michael stood behind the man, nearly leaning against the door. One arm crossed over his chest, nervously clutching onto the arm still hanging by his side.

“I…can do it myself…” He mumbles, yet there’s no strength in his voice. “Don’t’cha worry, dear, I got’cha covered!” Henry’s oblivious, yet entirely too obvious nature brushed Michael’s worries to the side,

as he masterfully turned the knobs to the tub until it was the perfect temperature. Turning his head to the side, he offered the clearly nervous boy a grin. “Yer gonna be just fine, Mikey! I ain’t goin’ nowhere, alright? I’ll wash yer hair and then let ya do the-“

Henry goes on about his mental plans, only interrupted when Michael’s quiet voice cuts through the warm air. “Stay…? Will… uhm… Will you stay in the room? While I bathe?” Michael sounded so hopeful, but quickly tried to backtrack,

opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. “Why, of course, Sweetie! I’ll stick around and wait! Who else is gonna wrap you up nice and snug in the towel!” Henry used the side of the tub to pull himself to his feet.

“I think yer water is about ready! Feel free to get in anytime!” Henry turned to wipe his hands on the towel hanging on the wall behind him, while Michael stripped his boxers from his body, setting them on the counter; once again, neatly folded.

Using his non-dominant hand, he clung to the grab-bar that was attached to the wall and stepped into the bath. The water rippled with his entry, a melodic trickling sound echoing within the bathroom. The water was perfect,

leaving a warm feeling running through his body and helping his tense muscles relax just a bit. Michael lowered himself into the bath and let the water bathe over him. Henry found himself situated at the side of the tub once more,

a deep groan leaving his throat as he knelt again. “You… okay?” Michael eyed him through heavy lids, the warm water leaving him a little sleepy. “Getting’ old! Thas’ all!” He hums, as he reaches for the shampoo. Popping the lid open,

he let the thick liquid drip into the calm of his hand, the smell of honey and vanilla washed over Michael’s nostrils. Humming, Michael helped get his hair wet, scooping the water up in his hands and dumping it over the top of his head.

Henry’s breathy laugh filled Michael’s chest with warmth, as he tilted his head over to give the older man a better reach. This wasn’t uncommon for them, Michael sought him out in the roughest of times. Henry slowly massaged his fingers through Michael’s hair,

soft eyes trailing over the boys’ small form. Henry didn’t mention the injuries, not yet, he knew Michael would trust him with the information when he was ready, so he simply continued on with the soft, circular motions of cleaning his hair.

Michael adored the scent of the shampoo as it drifted through the hair. It felt like home wrapped around his quickly relaxing body. His eyes only opened when the hands untangled from his hair, and then shampoo was being rinsed from his scalp.

Henry gently cupped Michael’s chin to tilt his head back as he ran the showerhead over the soft strands, getting all of the shampoo out of his hair. Michael hated conditioner, it made his hair feel slimy, so he whined softly when he saw Henry reaching towards the shelf again.

“Shh, baby. I’m getting the soap… ‘m gonna wash you, alright? You’re dozin’ off.” Hushed words flowed through Michael’s ears, barely processed, yet he nods anyway. Henry leaned further into the tub,

letting the boy rest against his bicep to rest as he properly cleansed the grime and dirt from his small body. Michael never fully fell asleep, but he stayed in the cushy realm of partial-consciousness, happily floating on his cloud.

When he was shaken back into reality, a soft hand caressing his face, he groaned. He had no idea how long it’d been since he’d started dozing, but it was time to get out of the tub. The soft sound of the bath draining drifted through the back of his mind,

but he couldn’t be bothered to pay it any mind, carefully pulled to stand up by Henry’s strong hand. Lazily half-lidded eyes watch Henry as he prepares the towel. They make eye contact, and Michael smiles. “Thank you…” Soft words drift from his mouth as he’s clouded in a towel.

It’s oh-so soft, and feels like he’s been bathed in a sheep. “C’mon, little one, let me help you.” Henry cooed softly, and picked the boy up bridal style, the sweater in hand.

Henry carries Michael out of the bathroom and down the hallway to the master bedroom,

ready to get him ready to stay the night. Setting the boy down on the bed, he mentally reminded himself to call William, to let him know where Michael was, only to be pulled from those thoughts by a soft whine. “Hhh… Mommy…” Henry’s face softens and he smiles,

“Oh, baby… Did you slip?” Henry hooks his fingers in the towel, gently pushing it away from his face, revealing such downturned eyes, pleading for attention. “Is it care time, little one? Do you need mommy…?” Henry coos softly, briefly cupping Michael’s cheek,

admiring how he nuzzles into the palm of his hand so softly. “Alright, give momma a minute.” Henry slowly pulls his hand from Michael’s form, tugging his own shirt from his body. Turning back to scoop Michael’s blanketed body up, he climbed onto the bed with the boy in his arms.

“Alright, darlin’, mommys’ got you…” Michael coos so softly, mumbling to himself mostly; barely recognizable words flowing from his mouth. His hands play with the fibers of the towel, plucking at them softly.

Hands slowing their movements, Michael’s eyes trail up to Henry’s adoring face. “Touch… Mommy touch…?” He asks, voice soft and quiet, regressed in a sense. “Of course, dear… I’ll relieve all your stress, okay? Leave it to mommy.”

Henry brushed his hand over Michael’s side slowly, dipping and trailing over his waist and hips, before gliding under the towel. Calloused fingers grazing the puffy and fuzzy lips of Michael’s pussy. Instinctually, Michael lets his legs fall apart, granting further access.

Michael buries his face into Henry’s hairy chest, whining softly at the pressure already starting to form in the pit of his tummy. “Mnn…Hh…nnnmm…” His little whines only muffled by the burly chest in front of him. “You can latch, Mikey. Go ahead.”

Henry encourages, other hand divided between gently brushing through Michael’s still damp hair, and rubbing soothing circles into his covered back. Michael whimpers, before wrapping his mouth around Henry’s nipple. Careful not to let his teeth graze too much, he suckles softly;

pulling the wrinkled tissue further into his mouth. Henry wasn’t incredibly sensitive or anything, but he could feel the blood rushing to his cock. Electing to ignore the soft throbbing from his own crotch, he pressed his fingers further against Michael’s clit.

Rubbing slow, soft circles into the tender bundle, he could feel it twitch against his fingers.

Pressing his lips unto Michael’s head, he pressed soft kisses over his hair; thinking of loving words with each kiss.

He loved this boy like he was his own, adoring his soft skin and absolutely perfect pussy. There was no doubt in his mind that he loved him, feeling his nipple teased between little teeth was proof enough of that adoration.

Michaels’ eyes shifted between being half-lidded and closed, adoring the taste of Henry’s salty skin in his mouth. Soft vibrations rumbled through Michael’s mouth and reverberated back onto Henry’s nipple.

The older man kept a keen eye on the boys’ reactions, pinching and tugging at his clit. Michael bucked his hips softly, wanting more attention from the large hand that encased his cunt. “Such a good boy for mommy…” Henry mumbled, brushing his free hand through the silky locs.

Working through the knots in his hair with his fingers, he studied the soft moans and whines, “Yer so good… Yer so wet…” He murmured, adoring how the boys’ eyes trailed up from his chest. Attempting to stare up at Henry, he whined for attention.

Pressing his lips to Michael’s forehead, Henry cooed so lovingly. “My baby… my little one.” Hastening the speed of his fingers, he rubs Michael’s clit messily as the boy bucks and squirms. Pulling away for a moment, to attempt to warn Henry, “’m gunna--!”

A spray of opaque liquid coats Henry’s hand, forearm and the side of the bed. The orgasm leaves Michael quivering and twitching, little whimpers escaping his throat. “nnn…hah…mmmnnn…”

“Good job, Mikey… Look at you, so perfect.” Henry softly praised, pressing his fingers back against the now overly sensitive bundle of nerves, slowly starting to rub circles once again. “So perfect for me… you’re so good… Just keep your focus on mommy’s fingers, okay?”

Henry hummed, reassuring him so softly. His clit was already so sensitive, twitching and tingling under Henry’s fingers. Muffled whined sound from Michael’s throat, “mmm…mommy…” Drool is dripping down his chin, and Henry’s nipple is already red and sore,

but he’ll do anything for his baby. Henry wants to be gentle, but his Mikey doesn’t exactly need his brain to function now; not when he’s curled up and whining so beautifully in his lap. “So handsome… you make such pretty messes…”

Henry presses more small kisses over Michael’s head, peppering little kisses all over the boy’s hair. Pressing down upon his clit again, he speeds up the circular motions, forcing a second orgasm out of his body. Shivering, Michael’s eyes are rimming with tears once again,

but these aren’t stressed or overwhelmed tears; they’re overstimulation tears. He can feel his body shaking, but his mind is drifting back off into his tiny space. Mouth no longer latched as he’s making incoherent babbling noises.

“nng…guh..hah… mmama….” He cooed, body coming down from the orgasmic high once again.

His tummy had begun to ache, a dull throbbing pain that sent quakes up his back and down his legs; but the throbbing in his clit made him weep.

He felt so overwhelmed already, small tears cascading down his face as he trembled. “You’re doing great, Mikey, one more time, okay?” Henry spoke, yet he knew they’d go for a while longer. It was his job to render the boy exhausted and taken care of.

He dipped his fingers further down, and rubbed slow circles around Michael’s entrance, teasing the hole. He could feel it try to clench around his fingers that he’d yet to slip inside, adoring the soft whines of need.

“Mmm..hah… Momma…” He whined, pleading for more. “You want them inside, baby? Want me to touch all your insides…?” Henry’s soft tone earned a sharp nod. Quickly nodding is head against Henry’s chest, he moaned, rolling his hips up into the hand. “Shh, little one…”

Cooing, he pressed his thick fingers into Michael’s hole, the stretch from lack of use felt nice. Palming at his clit still, Henry slowly curled his fingers into the tender, velvety walls. “Nnn…mommy…” Michael’s moans sounded like honey, dripping off a golden spoon.

“Yer takin’ my fingers so well, sweetheart…” Pressing the pads of his fingers into sensitive flesh, he found that Michael’s hands were grasping at his bicep. Tiny crescent shapes indented in his skin from Michael’s nails.

Michael tilted his head up, finally pulling away from Henry’s chest, whining at the man who was so utterly focused on the sloppy cunt that was wrapped around his fingers. “Mommy…” Michael’s small voice called; eyebrows furrowed in need.

“Yes, baby?” Henry’s soft green eyes turned trailed up to Michael’s desperate little face, and he cooed. “Did you want a kiss, little one?” Michaels’ eyes were partially unfocused, leaving him searching to meet Henrys. “Kiss… please?” Michael pleas, pouting softly.

“Alright… Anything for you, sweetheart.” Henry pressed their lips together, interlocking in a passionate kiss. The older of the two led the kiss, leaving Michael breathless yet needy for more. Henrys’ tongue roamed and searched Michael’s mouth,

running over the expanse of his tongue. His fingers still at work deep inside the boys’ core, leaving him bucking his hips and moaning into the kiss. Wrapping his arm over Michael’s shoulders, Henry caressed the side of Michael’s face, pulling him further into the kiss.

Henry cooed so softly, breaking the kiss; only a strand of saliva connecting their lips now. “Hhh… no…” Little whines left Michael’s throat, desperate for another kiss, but Henry’s fingers pressed further in, caressing the opening to Michaels’ uterus.

“Do you feel me, baby boy…? You feel my fingers rubbing against your little baby room...?” Henry cooed, mumbling so lovingly in Michael’s ear. “Do you feel my fingers prodding at your deepest parts?” Pressing a soft kiss unto Michael’s lips once more, he pulled his fingers out,

a spray of liquid following quickly. The sudden removal of the girth from within his cunt sent him over the edge into another orgasm, walls clenching around the absence.

Michael’s body fell limp against Henry, muscles contracting and clenching.

Heaving, sweaty, slick covered chest twitching with each movement. Henry slowly rubbed soothing circles into his back, skin sensitive from the overexertion. “Good job, baby… You can rest now, mommy’s got you.” Henry assured, pressing loving kisses onto the top of his head.

Michael fought his tired eyes, trying to keep them from rolling back, but the soft press of Henry’s lips to his forehead allowed him to finally close his eyes. “Thank…--” he started, a yawn cutting him off, voice slurred and muffled, but albeit recognizable.

“You… mommy.” Exhaling slowly, he let his exhausted body rest, dozing off.

Henry quickly went into clean up mode, setting Michael down on the other side of the bed so he could get to work cleaning him up.

The soft, baby blue towel was used to dab the inside of his thighs off as a temporary solution. Pressing one last soft kiss on Michael’s forehead, he left the room to gather supplies. – Gauze, bandages, anti-bacterial cream, moist and dry towels, a water bottle,

medication for pain and a small protein bar were dropped onto the bed, away from the soaked areas. Henry’s hands were thoroughgoingly washed as he got to work. He was gentle with each movement,

carefully blotting the wounds that littered the boy’s body with the anti-bacterial cream, before bandaging and wrapping them. Using the moist towelette, he wiped down Michael’s thighs and pussy gently, before patting him dry. Setting the water bottle,

two pills and protein bar up on the nightstand on the side of the bed he’d be sleeping on, Henry carefully slipped Michael into the oversized sweater. Worried about moving him too much, he got out an extra blanket from the closet, gently covering him with it.

Soon, he went on to cleaning the rest of the room, thankfully most of the mess made it onto the side of the bed, the floor and the towel, so it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle.

Once Henry had finished the cleaning process, he carefully got himself changed, he carried himself out to the living room. Making a short call to the Afton residence, he informed William that Michael had been there all day, and would be staying the night.

This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, so William was quick to agree. Henry hobbled back to the bed room, quietly closing the door with a soft click, before getting into the bed as well. Pulling Michael flush against his chest, he held him,

running thick fingers through the sleeping boys’ hair. “I love you, Mikey…” Henry mumbles, as his body finally allows itself to rest. “My little one.” Pressing a final kiss to the top of Michael’s head, Henry drifted off to sleep, a protective hold around Michael.

When Michael had awoke in the morning, he’d been alone, but the sweet smell of pancakes drifted through his nostrils. Sitting up slowly, he let his eyes adjust to the light that was drifting in from the window. Letting his body stretch out, he worked slowly on getting out of bed.

Taking a quick notice of the nightstand, he quickly grasped the pills, excited for the dull, throbbing ache in his head to dissipate.

Shuffling around towards the window, he looked out as he struggled to swallow the pills with just water,

barely managing the struggle as it got caught in his throat. A soft gag leaves his mouth, as he turns to find his binder hanging neatly on the back of the door, clearly washed. His lips curved into a small smile as he padded across the room to grab it.

He felt comfortable enough in the sweater not to put the binder on quite yet, but his heart was warmed by the sweet gesture. He truly was the luckiest boy alive to have someone as kind as Henry.

Today would be a good day, he thought as he left the room the small smile still plastered on his lips.

___ END ___

PIECE COMMISSIONED BY @/bottomnozomi

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