Rising Sap Ch. 02

I wake up slowly. I can vaguely hear some muffled speech, like it's at the end of the tunnel and all that my ears are catching is stifled reverb. Someone's trying to get my attention, I think. Then, I notice the palm repeatedly but gently tapping at my cheek. I let out a little groan before things start to become clear: Scotty's telling me to wake up.

I gradually open my eyes, and once they are able to focus, I squint at Scotty smiling down at me. "How the heck do you sleep on your back?" he teases.

"I'm old," I tell him, sighing heavily as my body wakes up.

"You're not that old," he says, patting my arm. "Did you sleep okay?"

I let out a little grunt and blink the sleep out of my eyes. "Would've slept better if you hadn't woken me up," I say with a slight smile.

He laughs. "I think thirteen hours is plenty of time," he says.

Thirteen hours? Jesus Christ. I yawn, hovering the back of my hand over my open mouth before sighing again. "What time is it?"

"Almost one-in-the-afternoon," he says. What a waste of a day. Then again, I'm happy I finally got to get some solid sleep in. With all the stress lately, it feels like it's been forever since I've gotten more than four or five hours in. "C'mon," he adds, tugging at my arm lightly. "Come say hi to mom before she has to go back to work."

That's right. It's a Thursday. Eric and Yasmine both work nine-to-fivers during the week, with Eric as a business consultant and Yasmine as a project manager at some beauty company. She must be on her lunch break right now. Her job is pretty close to the house, making it easy to swing home for lunch with her son. But still, it's a weekday... "Shouldn't you be in school?" I mutter as I sit up with a groan.

"Mid-winter break, remember?"

"Oh, right," I murmur as my memory floods back to me. Giving schoolkids another week off in February seems somewhat silly to me. Is Christmas break not enough?

Scotty chuckles at me as I slide my sleepy ass out of bed. I run my fingers through my hair before stretching a bit, happy that I don't have morning wood (or afternoon wood, I suppose), because I would have been too out of it to notice it until it was too late.

I follow Scotty downstairs, and the closer we get to the bottom, the louder the unmistakable sounds of Yasmine fussing in the kitchen become. She emits a certain chaotic energy whenever she cooks. I love the woman dearly, but she's not exactly a master chef, and she's quick to be frustrated with her food even when she's not the one cooking. When we turn the corner into the kitchen, she's in the middle of quietly cussing out a small pot of rice that she seems to have managed to burn, begrudgingly attempting to scrape the grains from the bottom.

"I told you to just buy the instant rice," Scotty says as he heads over to his mom.

"It just doesn't taste the same," she murmurs, looking over at her son. That's when she notices me, and her eyes instantly soften. She at least looks pleased to see me. "Antoni!"

I smile at her. "Hi, Yasmine." Scotty must have told her that I was here. Either that, or she saw my car in the driveway. Who knows.

"Sleep well?"

"Too well," I mutter, and both Scotty and Yasmine laugh.

"You hungry?" she asks me. "I can't really offer you anything, but--"

"I was gonna take Uncle Ant out for lunch," Scotty says as he sits up on the counter.

I blink, looking at him. "You were?"

"Yeah. Something starchy for that hangover," he adds with a little grin.

"I'm not hungover," I say defensively, but Yasmine just chuckles a bit before abandoning the pot and sticking it into the sink to soak.

"I wouldn't blame you if you were," Yasmine says before sighing heavily. "Well, I should get going, because now I have to pick up lunch." She looks momentarily irritated by that prospect before smiling brightly at me and coming over to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "You hang in there," she murmurs to me before turning her attention to her son. "Behave yourself," she says, giving Scotty a peck on his cheek as well before grabbing her purse.

"Bye, Mom," he says, smiling at her as she rushes away. Once she's out the front door, Scotty turns to me and smiles. "Hungry?"

I shrug. "Maybe a little," I say, trying not to eye him too intently. "Where are you taking me?"

"Probably Pop's Diner," he suggests. "I'm craving a milkshake. Sound good to you?"

"I'm fine with whatever you want," I tell him.

He seems to find that funny. "'Course you are," he says before sliding off the counter. "I'll get you some clothes." Then, on his way past me, he slaps my chest, chuckling to himself. I just watched him leave, watching the way his pants hug that tight little ass of his. Then, I shake my head, running my fingers through my hair. I need to stop looking at him like that. It'll only bring trouble.

Scotty brings me some more spare clothes of Eric's since he put my clothes from last night in the washer. I stuff myself into jeans that are a little too snug for my liking, but at least the shirt fits fine. Then, we both throw on our coats before heading to my car. I drive this time, but it's not that much of a drive. Pop's is a mere ten minutes away.

As soon as I hit the road, Scotty speaks up. "You sleep okay?"

I snort. "Like a rock."

"I actually tried waking you up earlier but you wouldn't budge," he says, laughing. "I thought you were dead."

I don't know why, but I get hot knowing that he was in my room while I was asleep. "Did you need something?"

He shrugs. "I was just bored," he says before looking at me. "Was the bed okay?"

"Yeah," I say, glancing at him with an amused smirk.

"Had enough pillows and blankets?"

"You don't have to stress about me, Scotty," I tell him with a laugh, even though I appreciate that he cares about my comfort.

"Well, I'm gonna," he says defiantly. I just smiled to myself, focusing on the road and not on the fact that all I want to do is kiss this boy.

When we get to Pop's, we grab a booth and put in our orders before discussing a weird dream he had last night. He's a senior in high school, and with college coming up, he's been having stress-dreams about the future. The food comes by pretty quickly and all at once: a big breakfast platter for me, and a milkshake and an omelet for Scotty. As soon as the pancake breakfast is set in front of me, I realize how hungry I am. The intermingling scents of hot cakes, sausage, and eggs fill my nostrils, and I pick up my fork and immediately start gorging. Scotty chuckles as he sips his milkshake, having barely looked at his omelet yet. In my periphery, I see him pick up his fork, but I'm too busy stuffing my face to hear what he said.

"Whuh?" I ask, chewing.

"I said, you're a mess," he tells me, smiling at me. Then, grabbing a napkin, he leans over and wipes something off of my chin. The moment feels so... innocently intimate that I forget to keep chewing for a moment.

"Sorry," I murmur, taking my time now. Plus, I'm all flushed. I look around at the rest of the diner, wondering if anyone saw that.

"First the alcohol, and now you can't even eat properly," he teases. "Am I gonna have to babysit you all week?"

"Since when are you so mature?"

"Since always," he says, sipping his shake with a grin.

"Nuh uh," I say, wagging my finger. "I've known you your entire life, kiddo. Maturity has never been an inherent quality of yours."

He laughs. "Oh come on. I was a good kid."

"You were a *cute* kid," I correct him. "But you were a demon child."

He just smiles at me with an extra glint of something in his eye. "Well, I'm still cute at least."

I just grunt a response, not wanting to say anything incriminating. Hold your tongue, Ant. Hold it.

Scotty finally sets his drink down and starts picking at his omelet. "Sometimes I forget you've been in my life for so long," he says.

I smile a bit as I eat. "I was even there when you were born," I tell him. "Hell, I changed your diapers a bunch when they needed a babysitter."

He grimaces before laughing. "Sorry."

"Yeah, you were disgusting," I tease, getting another giggle out of him.

Then, chewing slowly on his eggs, he stares at me before asking a question. "Have you ever wanted kids?"

I stare back, surprised by the question. "Uh... I mean, maybe a little bit," I say. I've never been super sure one way or another. Being a dad is a lot of work, I know, but elements of it seem appealing. However... "Honestly, I kind of like the honorary uncle role better."

He smiles. "Less responsibility?"

"Way less," I say. "I get all the fun of watching you grow up without the hassle."

"That makes sense," Scotty says with a nod. "For what it's worth, though, I think you'd make a great dad."

I just laugh it off, even though I'm feeling particularly warm by the sentiment. "Well, thanks, monkey," I say -- and even little Scotty blushes a bit.

"I wanna say something else," he says, in a way that makes me pause my eating. "And I don't wanna sound annoying, but..."

"But...?"

"We want you to live with us."

I sigh, wiping my lips with my napkin and sitting up straight. "Scotty... I can't do that."

"Why not?" he asks, leaning forward. "You're practically family."

"Well, we don't know that the offer still stands," I say.

"Of course it does," Scotty tells me.

"How can you be sure?"

He rolls his eyes before pulling out his phone. As he calls someone up, I try to stop him, but he's here to prove a point. "Dad? Hey. Yeah, it's me. The offer to let Uncle Ant move in still stands, right? Yeah, that's what I told him. Yeah, I know, he's--. Yeah. Okay, sweet. Thanks, Dad. Yeah, talk to you later. Bye." Then, with a smug little grin, he sets his phone down, looking victorious. "What's your next excuse?" he challenges.

"I'd just be a bother," I tell him, stabbing one of the sausages with my fork. I can feel Scotty's eyes boring into me, though, and when I look up, he just sighs.

"You're so stubborn," he says. "It gets annoying sometimes."

I can't help but laugh. "I'm a man," I tell him. "Stubborn is what we do best."

"How can I convince you, then?" Scotty asks.

"Why are you trying so hard?"

He bites his lip. "I'm worried about you," he says, and it's in such a soft and tender voice that I'm momentarily stunned. "I know you said you weren't depressed but... I don't know. You just seem so... broken."

I blink. Do I really seem that bad? It's certainly been a tough time for me, but shit... Is it that noticeable?

And then, Scotty says something that nearly breaks my heart. "And I'm terrified of losing you."

My eyes actually well up a bit, and I have to turn away to make sure I maintain some semblance of composure. Scotty... Scotty Scotty Scotty. I sniffle a bit to hold back tears before setting my fork down and reaching across the table to take his hand. He holds onto me tightly, waiting for my response. "You don't have to worry about that," I tell him.

"Promise?" he asks in a small voice.

"I promise," I say, my thumb automatically starting to stroke his hand. "I'm not going anywhere."

He seems noticeably relieved at hearing that. "Okay."

"But thank you for... for saying that. It means a lot."

He gives me the sweetest, most adorable smile. Then, "I still want you to stay with us, though."

I just laugh. "You're such a brat," I say, taking my hand away. Then, I sigh, unable to stop smiling. I relent. I give in. I stop resisting. "Fine," I murmur, tossing away my pride and fear of pity.

Scotty's eyes go wide. "Really?"

"Yeah. You wore me down, monkey."

"Yay!" he cheers, so delightfully that a couple people turn to see what the hell he was yelling about. I just laugh, shaking my head and going back to my food. Guess I'm moving in.

Having breakfast-as-lunch with Scotty really boosts my mood. We enjoy a pleasant, playful conversation as we eat, and when it comes time to pay, he's the one who quickly picks up the check. I protest, but he reminds me that he wanted to take me out in the first place. I accuse him of pitying me, to which he playfully responds with, "Of course I do."

Once we head back to my car and buckle up, I turn to him. "So I guess I'll just drop you off and then go pick up some stuff."

"Just take me with you," he says. "Simpler that way."

I hesitate. "It's not a big deal. I can just take you home."

"Orrr, I can help you pack," he says, smirking at me. "What's the big deal? Are you trying to back out?"

That's not it. I'm just a bit ashamed of where I'm staying now. I currently live in "the Innies," everyone calls them. It's a shady part of town where the rent is dirt cheap but the streets are dangerous and the buildings are dilapidated at best. It's incredibly seedy, full of local gangbangers and drug pushers and hookers. But the thing is, it's all I could really afford to get at the last minute. I honestly would have just lived out of my car if it wasn't the dead of winter. I just pay a little bit every week. It's not like I have many belongings anymore.

Regardless, I don't want Scotty to see, so when I get close to the area, I park a little bit further away, hoping that he thinks I live in a somewhat nicer area than the Innies. "Wait here," I say when I park. "Gimme ten minutes."

"Alright," Scotty says, though he sounds wary. Maybe skeptical is the right word.

Either way, I hop out and then turn the corner so that I'm out of sight. Then, I head to my "apartment." It's not great. In fact, it's quite dingy, and the bathroom is disgusting, but it has functioning heat, so that's a plus. I sigh at the sight of it, looking forward to living in a nice home with people I care about. Scotty was right. I was stubborn for no reason.

Since I crashed here earlier this week, I haven't really unpacked at all, so this should be a quick trip, as all I have to do is collect the loose items that aren't already stuffed into my bags. Just as I'm starting to put clothes into a luggage bag, I hear movement at the door -- and when I turn, I see Scotty standing there, looking around. "*This* is where you live?" he asks.

"I told you to wait in the car," I say, feeling my face get red from embarrassment.

"You were being weird," he says, eyeing the room with distaste, "and now I see why." He steps in, taking a look around, even dragging his finger across a few surfaces before wiping it on his coat. "I'm glad you said yes..."

"Let's not harp on it," I murmur before heading to the bathroom. I collect all my toiletries and then scope out the main room to make sure I haven't forgotten anything. Then, once I'm satisfied that I've packed everything I need, I take a glance at Scotty to inform him that I'm ready. However, he just looks so... sad. "What?" I ask.

"I just..." He trails off, unsure what to say. Instead, he steps forward, and before I know it, he's got me in a tight embrace. "I'm sorry things have been so difficult."

I tense up at first, but I can't help but soften at the gesture after a moment. Dropping my toiletry bag to the floor, I wrap my arms around Scotty, hugging him tightly to me. "Lucky I got you to worry about me," I say with a smile.

He chuckles against my chest, and I lean down and press my lips to the top of his head affectionately. It just feels right in the moment -- but then, of course, I get distracted by the scent of him. I want so badly to inhale him deeply, and I know if I start journeying down that road, I'll have a major hard-on pressing against this boy. And then, just as I'm having that worry, I feel something coming from Scotty... A little nudge of insistence against my inner thigh. And that's where his groin is...

But I only feel it for a second, because Scotty breaks the hug. I clear my throat, telling myself over and over to not look down at his crotch. "Thanks for that," I tell him, pleased to see he's got a little redness in his cheeks.

"My pleasure," he says, smiling innocently up at me. Or is it bashfully? Then, he says something else. "I love hugging you. You're really comfortable."

I snort. "I am?"

"Yeah. You'd be a good cuddle buddy for someone my size."

I almost grunt imagining us cuddling. "With me as the little spoon, of course," I tease.

He gives me a glare that instantly makes me laugh. "Obviously I'm the little spoon," he says.

He's right, though. We'd fit perfectly together. He's small, smooth, and lean, and I'm tall, hairy, and burly. It's a perfect contrast. "Sometimes big men like to be held," I say with a little smirk.

He just smiles softly at me. "Do you want me to hold you, then?"

I feel something lurch in my stomach, and I try not to let my face give it away. "Um..."

"I'll take that as a yes," Scotty says cheekily before looking around. "Are we done here? This place gives me the creeps."

I clear my throat for what feels like the millionth time before nodding and grabbing my bags. "Yep," I tell him. "Let's get out of here."

~ ~ ~

When we get back to the house, I bring my things up to my new bedroom (at least, my room until Scotty's sister comes back to visit) and then head back downstairs. Scotty's in the kitchen making popcorn, and when I ask him what the plan is, he says he'd like to watch a movie -- and that I'm going to watch it with him. He doesn't ask *if* I want to. He's already determined that. I just smile at him, always happy to spend time with the boy.

Once the popcorn is done microwaving, he leads me into the living room and has me hold the bowl while he sets up the couch. Their sofa is pretty snazzy because it can easily turn into a larger surface for a few people to completely lounge out on. After he gets it all squared away, including one too many blankets (just the way I like it), he gets himself comfortable by sitting up straight. Then, he looks up at me and pats his lap.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"C'mere."

As always, I feel myself getting hot around Scotty. "You serious?"

"Yes," he says, annoyed that I'm hesitating. "C'mere, big boy. I won't bite."

I swallow thickly before giving in. I mean, it's just cuddling. No big deal, right? I hand him the bowl of popcorn and then lie down on the couch, shifting so that I can lay my head cozily in his lap. He leans over to grab the hem of the blankets and tugs them over me before he sits back, grabs the remote, and starts playing with my hair with his free hand.

"Do you care what we watch?" he asks me, but my eyes are already closed. His voice seems so distant. I'm just so focused on his fingers working gently over my scalp that I'm barely cognizant of anything else. Fuck, it's like instant relaxation. "Uncle Ant?"

"Huh?" I murmur before clearing my throat. "Oh. Yeah, no, I don't care."

"Cool," he says. "'The Grand Budapest Hotel' it is." He scrolls to the movie, presses play, adjusts the volume, and then finally relaxes. He sets the remote down so that he can eat popcorn with one hand and stroke my hair with the other.

I feel so comfortable with him, with this simple affection. God, when's the last time I've been touched so lovingly? Even guys I've "dated" have rarely given me this sort of affectionate attention. I've always been the provider in that regard, so it's nice to just check out and receive. I feel myself sink into the couch as I enjoy the gentle and almost distracted way Scotty pets at me, runs his fingers through my hair, and gently massages my scalp. I could fall asleep like this, easily.

Then, I feel something at my lips. "Open," he says.

From the texture, I can tell it's a piece of popcorn. "I don't want your popcorn," I murmur, keeping my lips shut.

"Humor me," he says. "I'm being generous."

I chuckle and part my lips, extending my tongue to reach the popcorn. I almost moan when I feel his fingers hit my lips, and then, when my tongue makes contact, I taste the buttery saltiness right on his fingers for a brief second. I chew slowly, wishing I could taste the rest of him.