Rising Sap Ch. 05

"Exhibit A," he says, catching his breath. "Just promise me you won't talk about dating tonight."

"Why not?"

"Because it's embarrassing," he says, grimacing. "Well, *Dad's* embarrassing."

"That's fair," I say with a laugh. Eric is a typical dad in a lot of ways. "What if you really like someone?"

"Debatable," he murmurs. "I think you ruined guys for me."

I blink. "What? Why?"

"None of the guys I've been with are as big as you, so it just... doesn't feel right," he says. He even pouts a little, which makes me want to both laugh and flush with pride. "I didn't think it really worked like that but it drives me nuts."

I smirk to myself, making a point to not look at him. So... I'm the big man, huh? "Should I... apologize?" I ask.

"Fuck off," he says, and we both laugh. "Eliza seems to agree at least."

"You told Eliza *that*?!" I ask, bewildered. Confiding in her about our sex life is one thing, but my dick size?

"Of course," he says. "She's my best friend." He just smiles when he sees I'm getting all nervous about seeing her again. "Relax," he says, placing a hand on my arm. "It'll be fine."

But even when we get to the restaurant and meet his family, I don't feel "fine." I feel on edge. Eric and Yasmine are their normal selves, hugging each of us excitedly, blissfully unaware of the intimacies of my relationship with their son. But Eliza? She gives me a very specific grin before she hugs me -- the kind that says "I know what you've been up to." I swear her eyes even flicker down when we separate from the hug, and I'm immediately flustered.

I try to focus on things besides Eliza, so when Yasmine starts belaboring the changes the restaurant has made to its decor since we've last been here, I eagerly listen and agree with her. Frankly, this restaurant has always fallen short of stylish, but what it lacks in taste it makes up for in flavor. The food, mostly Asian fusion, is always superb, and it's become a bit of a tradition among Eric's family to have celebratory dinners here.

When we take a seat in a booth, Scotty settles between me and his sister. It feels weird sitting beside him with one person who knows I've been inside of him regularly but can't address it because the parents are (and should remain) oblivious.

"Guess we've got all the gays on this side," Eliza remarks, and all of us laugh.

"Or single folks on that side, and happy couples on this side," Eric suggests, putting his arm around Yasmine.

Yasmine looks amused. "'Happy'?" she teases, and when both her kids snort with laughter, Eric gives her narrowed eyes.

"You know I make you happy," he says.

She just pats his cheek patiently. "I know, babe," she says, giving him a quick lips. "But Antoni's looking rather handsome lately."

Again, Scotty and Eliza laugh. That's been a running joke between the five of us: Yasmine and I running off together -- particularly because it gets Eric all hot and bothered at the prospect of losing Yasmine. He knows he can't do better than her. "You guys aren't funny," he grumbles.

"We're just teasing," Scotty says.

But Eliza likes to take things further. "Do you think Mom would have left you for Uncle Ant if he were straight?"

"Oh, absolutely," Eric says with total conviction, and all of us besides him laugh. "She would have left me years ago. I'd be worried if he were straight, so..." He gives me a pointed look. "Don't be straight."

"Can't say I have any plans," I say with a laugh.

Then, Scotty makes a comment. "Do you worry about me 'n him?"

Eric looks confused by the question. "Why?"

"Because we're both gay," he says.

Still, Eric isn't quite catching on, and he looks between us a few times before asking, "I don't get it. What am I supposed to worry about?"

"Jesus Christ," Eliza murmurs, trying not to laugh, and Yasmine just puts a hand on Eric's upper arm.

"Let's just... change the subject," I chime in, feeling hot.

"But what--?" Eric starts to say.

"How's your semester going, sweetheart?" Yasmine interjects. "We've been dying to hear more."

Scotty has really embraced college life, participating in everything he can. It leaves little time to catch up with his family, but it was expected. After all, they want him to flourish and explore and make new friends. Scotty's first semester has flown by. On his journey towards his art major, he's been taking several core classes along with some supplementary electives outside his major. Turns out he has a thing for psychology, and already he's thinking about a career in art therapy, becoming more and more excited about the future.

"It's been going great," he says happily.

"Keeping those grades up?" Yasmine asks, taking a sip of her water.

Scotty nods. "Of course."

"Uh huh," Eric says, unconvinced. "All those boys you've been floundering around with, and I would have thought differently."

Scotty looks at me irritably, and I just give him an apologetic smile.

All along the way, he's been dating around -- and even though he's exploring with other boys, we still have sex every once in a while. It's a double-edged sword, really. I don't have it in me to refuse him. I want him to explore, truly, but I also want him for myself, and I don't know how to justify that. I just keep at least doing what I think is the right thing: supporting him in all his endeavors. However, the speed at which he goes through different guys terrifies me. It's not that I think he's a slut or anything. It's that he's so desirable, and not just to me. It's almost like guys are lining up for a shot at Scotty, and although this is his opportunity to explore as much as possible, it completely limits my chances -- if I even had any to begin with.

I felt I had an obligation to keep Eric updated on Scotty's dating habits, partially because he's my best friend and partially because I knew I wouldn't be able to keep track of the ever-changing lie Scotty wanted me to concoct. It's just easier if everything is all on the table.

Of course, Eric does have concerns, and he has had no problem expressing them. "I'm just saying--"

"Don't," Scotty murmurs.

Eric presses on. "I'm just saying, be careful."

"You never tell Eliza to be careful," he remarks.

Eric just shrugs. "I'm not worried about Eliza," he says. "She can take care of herself."

"And I can't?" Scotty asks defiantly.

I put a hand on Scotty's thigh under the table. "I think by 'take care of herself' he means 'doesn't like men.'"

Eliza and Yasmine both giggle, and Eric just shrugs. "So what if that's what I mean?"

Scotty sighs, slouching in his seat. "Well, I wouldn't go through so many boys if Uncle Ant didn't scare them all away," Scotty says.

I narrow my eyes as I look over at Scotty. "I don't scare them away," I say.

"You *hated* the last guy," he says, wagging his finger at me. "I could tell."

He's right, but I never really like who he brings home. It's not like it's ever a fair assessment, either. It's hard to be objective when I'm irritated by every boy who tries to get with Scotty. I hate their stupid voices, or stupid haircuts, or stupid hands touching Scotty's precious arm. Anything they do, I automatically see through a territorial lens. Maybe I'm a lot like Eric in this respect. If Scotty's going to date, I want him to date the cream of the crop and nothing less.

But that's just my own desire. I don't ever tell him what to do, and I never give my opinion unless asked. "Yeah, but I told you not to break up with him just because of me," I remind him.

"And I told you your opinion is important to me," Scotty retorts.

Eric just grins in an approving way. "Good," he says, nodding, clearly happy that I'm doing my part to vet the boys.

"Can we talk about something else?" Scotty murmurs, getting annoyed.

Now, Eliza jumps in. "What I wanna know," Eliza says, glancing at me and Scotty, "is how you two have gotten along as roommates."

When I catch her eye, I see that she's grinning a little mischievously. Her and her brother are the same in that regard: seemingly innocent until you get too close to them.

"We're great, actually," Scotty says, leaning against me a bit as if for emphasis. "He still gets touchy about me paying the bills, though."

"You get touchy about *not* paying the bills," I remind him.

"I just wanna do my part," he says.

"Growing up so fast," Yasmine says, and when Scotty narrows his eyes, she laughs.

"I have money," I tell him. "You don't."

Now, Eric chimes in. "Let the man take care of you," he says to his son, pointing his finger a bit. "Focus on your studies." I almost laugh because I know he's mostly saying "Enough with the boys," but I don't say anything.

Scotty has a rebuttal, though. "Would *you* take money from Uncle Ant?" he asks.

Eric blinks. "Well, no, but that's not the point here."

Now, Eric and Scotty go back and forth, arguing about principles that neither of them really have. Eric is the classic "man's man" in that he believes it's his job to provide for his family. He puts the bread on the table. However, those rules are more or less tossed to the side when it comes to Scotty. Eric will deny it, but I think it's because Scotty is gay and not exactly manly in a lot of ways. Eric doesn't expect Scotty to fend for himself.

Scotty knows that's what his father thinks, and I think he's trying his best to just prove his father wrong by getting a job and doing his fair share. Of course, after I mentioned this in passing, Scotty stubbornly denied it -- just like his father. Part of me wants to believe him, but I've known Scotty his entire life. I know him.

Eventually, the waiter comes back to take our food orders, putting a halt on their little argument. It seems that's all that was needed, because the rest of dinner goes by swimmingly. We eat, laugh, share stories of Scotty as a little kid, and when the time comes, we sing "Happy Birthday" while the kitchen staff brings out a free dessert. At the same time, Eric, Yasmine, and Eliza hand over the gifts they got for Scotty. He made it very clear that he didn't want anything serious, but the gifts were still thoughtful. Scotty's parents got him a snazzy collection of art supplies, and Eliza got him a few books that have been on his wishlist for quite some time. Excited, Scotty thanked them all. Eliza of course asked me what *I* got Scotty, but Scotty informed everyone that he specifically forbade me from getting a gift. That didn't stop me, though. Truthfully, my gift feels a bit silly: I drew a nude of Scotty. More and more, he's been expressing interest in the provocative arts, and I figured this would be a touching way of capturing his essence -- but as soon as I woke up today, I felt like this gesture was corny, and I've been avoiding giving it to him.

Luckily, no one presses me further. Just as Scotty starts to dive into his brownie sundae, Eric turns to me. "What about your birthday?"

"What about it?" I ask.

"It's right around the corner," he says. "We doing anything?"

They all know I hate when I'm the center of attention, so anything more than a nice dinner is off the table. "We really don't have to do anything," I say.

"I'm getting him a massage," Scotty chimes in, mouth full of brownie, and when I look at him with surprise, he just swallows and smiles. "You need it. You're a big ball of tension."

"I'm not that tense anymore," I say honestly. Ever since I bought my own house and started moving forward, I feel like I've been a lot better.

"You never really recovered," he says before looking at his parents as he touches my upper arm. "You should feel his muscles."

I get that his comment is rather innocent, but I immediately feel hot from how suggestive his words sound coupled with that touch -- especially since Eliza knows Scotty has been feeling my muscles in all types of ways.

"A massage could be good," Yasmine says, nodding. "It'll work wonders."

"Didn't you get a massage recently, Dad?" Eliza asks, trying to steal some of her brother's dessert.

"Oh yeah," Eric says, automatically fixing his posture. "It was a godsend, lemme tell ya." Then, he looks at me and grins. "You're gonna love it."

"That's if I go," I say.

"Just be grateful," Scotty says, resting his hand on my thigh under the table -- and then, before I know it, his hand slides even closer to my groin. I grunt when I feel his fingertips nudge my cock. As discreetly as possible, I nudge his hand away with mine, but the damage is done; as soon as I felt his fingers on my goods, I started getting hard.

I shift uncomfortably for the remainder of dinner, waiting for my cock to go down. Scotty doesn't even give me a chance, though. Every now and then, he'll reach back over as if sensing that I'm starting to go soft again, touching the deepest part of my inner thigh without actually touching my cock. At one point, Scotty even takes my hand to touch *him*. Eric eventually asks if I'm okay, and I get so flustered that I stutter through a fake explanation and blame my weirdness on an iffy stomach. Eric's never been the type to pry, so he just accepts it at face value, shrugging and turning his attention back to his family. Scotty, of course, just smiles to himself.

Eventually, once dinner is over and we've had all the conversations we could have, we all say our goodbyes. Scotty's family members give him extra long hugs, eager to have him home for the holidays.

"You're such a brat," I say as soon as we're out of earshot, pushing him.

For a moment, he looks genuinely confused. "Why?"

"All that touching under the table," I murmur, glancing back at Eric and the girls to make sure they haven't followed us for some reason.

Now, Scotty laughs. "It's so fun getting you riled up," he says, nudging me with my hip. He grins when he sees that I'm clearly trying (and failing) to be mad at him. "Did you get hard?"

"Obviously," I murmur.

Somehow, giving a guy a boner is the biggest compliment for Scotty, and he looks rather pleased with himself as we get into the car. Then, just as I get my seatbelt on, Scotty speaks up. "I wanna make you cum for my birthday."

I pause before I can even turn the ignition. "What?"

"You heard me," he says slyly.

"Why do you want that?" I ask.

"You know how much I like sucking dick," he says as if it's obvious. Then, he bites his lip and reaches over to my lap.

I quickly slap his hand. "What are you doing?"

"C'mon," he asks. "It'll be fun."

"Right here?" I ask, glancing around. It isn't exactly a busy parking lot, but it certainly isn't private.

"I'm feeling adventurous," he says.

Then, before I know it, Scotty's hand is pressing into my bulge -- and I moan. As soon as his hand is on me, my voice of reason is diminished to a barely audible whisper. I'm a man. What can I say, especially after all that teasing during dinner?

As I stiffen up, Scotty undoes the button of my jeans and unzips my fly before letting his hand slide in to grab me through my boxers. I unbuckle my seatbelt and slouch in my seat, sighing as he fishes my manhood out. I swallow thickly, checking all my mirrors and windows. It doesn't seem like anyone is around. Maybe if we make this quick...

As always, I find it difficult to focus when Scotty's lips first wrap around my cock. No matter how many times he does it, it still shocks me, still makes my head spin a bit. I place a hand on the back of his head, groaning softly but reminding myself to keep a look out. Nervously, I peer out all the windows and check all the mirrors repeatedly, worried someone (or people in particular) will show up and see what this beautiful boy is doing to me.

But God, it feels so good. I glance down to watch Scotty move up and down, the faintest smile on his lips. He once told me that sucking dick is his "happy place," and although I laughed at him for saying so, it's evident in the way he moves. Something about it soothes him. I comb my fingers through his hair, keeping loose strands away from his face, and when I do, he looks up at me and smiles with his eyes, those baby blues twinkling up at me. I can't help but smile back slightly as he nurses on the head.

"Don't take too long," I warn. "I'm not trying to get in trouble."

He pulls off with a hum. "That depends on you," he teases, sticking out his tongue and lapping at my cock like an ice cream cone.

"Shut up and work," I murmur, pulling him back down on me, and he giggles as he resumes the blowjob. Thankfully, he picks up the pace a bit, stroking me in time with his movements, humming as he goes. I tighten my grip on his hair, letting my head hang back against the headrest and indulging myself a minute of enjoyment. I just focus solely on Scotty: on his soft lips, on his eager tongue, on his adorable moans, on his knowing grip. I focus on the fact that all he wants to do for his birthday is suck me off. I focus on the fact that he's so hungry that he wanted to do it in public.

It's starting to get humid in the car. I slouch deeper into my seat, my heart racing a little more as I get warmer and warmer. Then, to take things up a notch, he moves his lips to my balls. Still stroking me, he takes one ball into his mouth, sucking tenderly. "Oh fuck," I grunt, spreading my legs as widely as I can. Scotty now guides both into his mouth simultaneously, tugging with his lips and rolling them with his tongue, making my eyes flutter.

His steady stroke on my cock would have kept me at idle, but Scotty doesn't often go for the jewels, so this is a surprise treat. It gets me so fired up that I'm close within seconds.

"Shit!" I grunt. "Scotty!"

Before we know it, my cock surges and spurts out the first thick rope of cum, and I don't have time to pull my shirt up. Luckily, Scotty saves further mess by quickly transferring his mouth to the head of my cock, taking down the remainder of my load. I groan with satisfaction, applying some pressure to the back of his head when I feel him swallowing. Fuck, I needed that. All of tonight's tension just went right down Scotty's throat.

Once I finish, Scotty slowly pulls up. He doesn't pull off immediately. He spends a minute just suckling and making sure he got every drop before he finally pulls off, smiling, clearly happy. "Thanks," he says.

I snort. "I should be thanking *you*," I mutter. However, I groan when I look at my shirt. There's a thick rope of cum on it. "Damn it."

"Here," Scotty says, taking the hem of my shirt, leaning down, and swiping it up with his tongue. I arch my brow as I watch him in a fascinated way. Scotty really does never miss a drop. He laps at it a few times to make sure he got it all, checking in between licks before sitting up and nodding. "There. All clean."

I just stare at him, partly amused. "You're somethin', you know that?" I say.

Scotty just laughs.

The whole way home, we sit in relative silence. The radio plays softly while Scotty, who claimed swallowing my load made him sleepy ("like when you eat a large meal"), rests his eyes. I don't mind it. It gives me a little bit of time to think about tonight, about us. Part of me wishes I had pulled Eliza aside and asked her for advice about Scotty, but I quickly nip that regret in the bud. Her brother is her best friend. I can't expect to say anything to her in confidence. God, I wish I had someone to talk to about this, someone rational like Eric but empathetic like Yasmine, someone who can ease me towards the voice of reason -- whatever that voice has to say.

When we get home, Scotty wants to treat himself to a bubble bath, so I let him head to the bathroom while I meander into my bedroom. I take my time changing into night clothes and doing a few stretches. Eventually, something catches my eye. On my nightstand is the drawing I made of and for Scotty. I pick it up and stare at it for a while, analyzing the tender strokes of my pencil, the attention to detail, the soft encapsulation of his personality. Honestly? It's some of my best work. I'm thankful for having such an excellent muse.