The New Man of the House

My name is Omar, I'm 23 years old, and I'm studying Law. I've always known I'm gay, but it's a secret I keep locked away. Neither my family nor even my closest friends know.

I live alone with my dad since my mom passed away a few years ago. Javier is everything I'm not: tall, robust, with a presence that commands respect. I, on the other hand, am only 5'6", extremely thin, with pale skin and black hair. A pale shadow compared to the dominant male that is my father.

My dad is the typical Mexican macho: a football fanatic, a Cruz Azul fan, plays with his friends every Saturday. He's homophobic to some extent, always making derogatory comments when he sees gays on the street. That's why I've never dared to confess my true nature to him.

Everything changed when I met César at the university. He was the typical alpha male hetero: tall, muscular, white skin, piercing blue eyes. We met in the cafeteria when he noticed my Chelsea shirt. The truth is, I didn't know anything about football, but I bought the shirt because I liked the design. I lied, telling him I was a fan of the team.

César was from out of town, living with four roommates to pay the rent. His parents lived in a village, and he only visited them once a month. After gaining my trust, I confessed to him that I was gay. I was surprised when he told me he was also gay. That's how we started dating.

The relationship with César was different from anything I had known. He was romantic, attentive, and when it came to sex... it was love. He treated me with tenderness, very different from the casual encounters I had before.

One day, I suggested we go to my house to watch a movie. I warned him that my dad didn't know I was gay, and we had to act like just friends. When he arrived, the introductions were normal:

"What's up, Omar, how are you?"

"Fine, and you, bro?" I had to contain myself not to kiss him as a greeting, my dad was watching a game in the living room.

"Look, Dad, this is César, my friend."

"What's up, nice to meet you, call me Javier."

"A pleasure, Javier. Is that the Chivas game?"

"Yes, those idiots are losing by one."

"Don't tell me, I bet with some friends."

My father invited César to sit down and watch the game, which he accepted. Since I wasn't interested in football, I decided to go up to my room to do my homework. When I came down three hours later, César was still in the living room with my dad, now watching another game. Apparently, they got along very well.

That's how everything started. César practically lived in my house. Every day, he watched games with my dad, helped him with chores and cars. He became the son my father never had in me.

One night, César missed the last bus, and my dad offered him to stay over. I got excited inside, knowing we would finally spend the whole night together in my house.

I made dinner whi...