Rising Sap Ch. 06

I don't know what he's talking about. Is he really criticizing me right now, or is this about something else? "You want me to be aggressive?" I ask.

"No," he says, sighing. "That's not the point."

"So what's your point?"

"I don't know," he murmurs. "I could have been aggressive, too."

I still don't understand what he's trying to say, and for a while, neither of us say anything more. He pauses, his cheeks red, his butt shifting uncomfortably in his seat until we finally park outside the massage place. He pulls into a space and cuts the ignition, and just as I move to take my seatbelt off he speaks.

"I've been doing a lot of self-reflection the past few days," he says.

"And?" I ask.

"I think I'm an asshole," he concludes.

Something about that makes me laugh, despite it all. "What? Why?"

"Because I've been selfish," he says, looking at me with sad eyes. "I *am* selfish."

"That doesn't make you an asshole."

"It does when I hurt people I care about. I've been totally taking you for granted," he says, his eyes meeting mine for a second. I feel myself melting under his gaze, so I quickly avert my eyes, focusing on his lips instead. "I'm trying to grow up a bit, so cut me some slack."

"God help us," I murmur, and finally, Scotty laughs a little.

"Shut up," he says, smiling at me. "I'm being serious. I'm really trying."

"I'm just teasing," I tell him, smiling. Scotty stares at me, one corner of his mouth lifted, not saying a word. "What?"

"Nothing," he says. "I just missed you."

My heart flutters and my face gets hot. "It's barely been a week," I say, quick to deflect.

"So you're telling me you didn't miss me?" Some of Scotty's playfulness is returning.

I gulp. "You know I did," I say in a low tone, and Scotty blushes and smiles to himself.

For a moment, we sit in awkward silence before he finally clears his throat and undoes his seatbelt. "We should go check in. Don't wanna be late."

I simply nod.

When we step inside the massage clinic, I take a moment to look around. "Zen" is the first word that comes to mind, especially with the soothing music making the warm ambiance feel even more relaxing. Maybe this will be a good thing after all.

The receptionist glances at us and smiles. "Welcome in!" he says in a calm but cheerful voice. "Here for a massage?"

"Yes," Scotty says, taking the lead. "We have an appointment for a couple's massage."

"Ah, yes!" the receptionist says, smiling with all of his teeth. "Scotty and Antoni?"

"That's us," Scotty says.

"Quite a handsome couple, if you don't mind me saying," the receptionist says as he types away. "How long have you two been together?"

I feel every muscle in my body twitch. "Oh, we're not--"

"We've known each other for a while," Scotty interjects, latching onto my arm, "but this is a recent development."

"Aww," the receptionist says, eyes twinkling. "Well, congratulations! Nothing like a nice massage for a new couple. You guys are in for a treat!"

All that's left to do is fill out our health intake forms, so he gives us each a clipboard and has us take a seat. While we choose a spot by a little fountain, I give Scotty a hard look -- and when he notices, he looks surprised. "What?"

"What was that?" I whisper, gesturing to the receptionist.

Scotty shrugs, being too playful. "I'm just making conversation," he says.

I sigh, rubbing my brow. "This isn't a game to me, Scotty," I tell him.

When he hears my tone, he stops smiling and deflates a bit. "I know. I'm sorry," he says, leaning back in his chair.

Quietly, we fill out our respective forms, and once we hand them back in, the receptionist leaves the room to give them to our LMTs. "Hang tight," the man says. "It'll just be a few minutes."

And so, we hang tight, sitting side by side, both fidgeting in different ways: I tug on the hem of my shirt and Scotty picks at a frayed patch on his jeans.

After half a minute, Scotty breaks the silence. "I've been thinking a lot about us." I glance down at him, waiting for him to continue speaking. "I've been thinking a lot about the guys I've dated, too. And I've been thinking about how nothing ever felt... right with them, or comfortable, or easy -- or, if it was hard, I didn't want to fight for it." Then, he looks up at me. "I never felt with them what I feel with you."

I'm fairly certain I forget how to breathe for a second. I go absolutely still.

"But I feel like I've been so focused on the... inception part of romance that I just discounted us as a possibility. Does that make sense?"

My throat feels hoarse all of a sudden. "I think so."

"And I just... I think I realized that I was waiting for some 'spark' to come that would never come because I'm just so... used to you. I know you already -- and you know me, probably better than anyone. The mystery is kinda gone. But that's... that's not a bad thing, right? I mean, you said it yourself: that I romanticize romance."

I stare at him as he picks at the frays in his jeans, almost not believing the words coming out of his mouth. "What are you...? What are you getting at?" I finally verbalize.

"What am I getting at?" he repeats, almost like he's asking himself. He chews on his cheek for a moment before meeting my eye. "Will you be my boyfriend?"

The sound that comes out of me is embarrassing. It's a mix between a snort, a choke, and a gasp, and I try to pass it off coolly by clearing my throat and pounding my fist into my chest. "Your boyfriend? Are you serious?"

"Yes," he says, looking amused but sincere.

I stare at him in disbelief. "You want me to be your boyfriend?"

"I know it's kind of selfish to ask, but... I mean, I thought it was all fireworks and love at first sight and... I don't know! I don't really know what it's supposed to feel like. How does anyone know? How do *you* know?"

Well, now I'm feeling vulnerable. "I don't know," I lie.

"No help," he teases, smiling before shrugging. "Point is, I don't feel anything for anyone as strongly as I feel for you. I wanna figure this out together, but... it's selfish of me to ask that of you, right?"

I stare at him, almost dumbfounded. Scotty wants to explore... a relationship with me? Everything I've wanted is right within my grasp, and yet I almost can't believe it. It seems like a cosmic joke. I'm waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under my feet.

Before I can respond, our massage therapists come out to greet us: one guy and one girl. After a brief introduction, they lead us down the hallway to a cozy room with two massage tables very close to each other. The room seems very... romantic. There are floral arrangements up against the walls and candles flickering so warmly that it feels oddly sensual.

"Are we wanting anything specific?" the girl asks, looking between us with a pleasant smile.

I just glance at Scotty, who steps in. "He needs a heavier touch," Scotty says, placing a hand on my arm for emphasis.

The male LMT, whose exceptional muscles are bulging in his skin-tight shirt, gives me a winning smile. "Guess you're stuck with me, big guy!"

I cock an eyebrow but simply nod, unsure what to expect. For a minute or so, I chat with my massage therapist about my health intake, what sort of work I want done, and where on my body I don't want to be touched. Am I particularly tender somewhere? Does a certain part of my body give me problems? Do I want my glutes worked on or should he avoid those? I presume Scotty's doing the same with the girl, but I wish I could hear what he was saying so I could steal his answers. In the end, I decide to be flexible and say, "I'm fine with whatever."

One the little interviews are complete, the girl addresses both of us. "We'll give you a moment to undress to your level of comfort," she says. "Then, get cozy under the sheet face-down." With a subtle nod to her coworker, the two of them leave the room, and I'm suddenly alone with Scotty.

"'Undress to your level of comfort'?" I ask, eyeing Scotty. He's already removing his shoes.

"Yes," he says simply.

"What does that mean?"

"It means undress to your level of comfort," he says with a laugh, kicking his shoes off and then pulling his shirt over his head. "Some people leave their underwear on."

I chew on my lip, uncertain. I've never gotten a massage before. "Well, what are you doing?" I ask. I'd rather just follow Scotty's lead. He just smiles innocently as he undoes his belt and then drops both his pants and underwear to his ankles. I gulp. Guess we're getting naked. "What if you get... you know?"

"Hard?" Scotty asks, stepping out of his clothes. "That doesn't really happen. Don't worry."

Actively avoiding the urge to ogle him, I undress and leave my clothes on a designated table before climbing under the sheet and lying face down. I take a deep breath and exhale as I rest my face in the face cradle, willing myself to relax. Let's not think about Scotty's feelings right now. Let's not think about how my feelings might be mutual. Let's not think about how this could just be one big tease. Let's not.

Soon, the LMTs return. Someone starts the music (soft, ambient, and tonal) before they glide to their positions. The sheet gets tucked by my hips so that my entire back is exposed. Then, I can feel the male's presence near my head, but I'm not sure what he's doing -- until he rests warm hands on my upper back. "Breathe in," he says calmly, inhaling alongside me. "Aaand, exhale."

As I exhale, he starts to move his slick hands down my back and adds gradual pressure. Immediately, I moan.

I hear Scotty laugh. "Told you you'd like it."

"Shut up," I grunt.

My therapist continues working up and down my back. "How's the pressure?" he asks.

"You can go deeper," I tell him.

"Here?" he asks, working his knuckles in with more force.

I'm feeling it now. "Fuck yeah," I say, and when I hear more laughter, I apologize.

"That's quite alright," my therapist says before focusing his fingers into my shoulders. "I feel quite a few trouble spots. Do you hold a lot of tension here?"

"Yeah," I murmur before gesturing towards Scotty. "It's his fault."

"Hey!" Scotty chirps, and I just grin.

The massage is incredible. For what feels like hours, my LMT works his magic on my neck, shoulders, upper back, and lower back before transitioning to my arms and hands. It feels so relaxing and relieving that I nearly fall asleep a few times.

Then, both our LMTs simultaneously switch to our fronts, and Scotty and I roll onto our backs before they drape us again. My guy starts with my legs, uncovering my right leg and starting to massage my calf muscles.

When I glance over at Scotty, he's already looking at me with a smile. "Enjoying it?" he asks.

"It's magical," I tell him.

He chuckles. "Good. I wanted to get you something extra nice for your birthday."

"Thanks, monkey," I say.

Scotty blushes, smiling privately. "'Monkey,'" he whispers.

"What?"

"Just missed hearing that every day."

However, before I can say anything else, I feel my LMT's fingers nudge my cock as he massages my thigh. Grunting, I glance down and murmur, "Easy."

He looks up. "Sore there?"

Did he not notice? "No, just... you nudged my, uh..." Is it too crass to tell him he touched my dick? Even though it's covered by the drapes, it's right there.

Suddenly, he looks mortified. "I did?" he says, looking down at his positioning, somewhat confused.

Scotty just laughs. "He's big," he says. "It gets in the way."

I just narrow my eyes at Scotty and he simply shrugs, smirking to himself.

Now my therapist looks panicked. "Oh my God. I'm so so sorry," he says urgently. Fuck, I probably shouldn't have said anything.

"It's all good, seriously," I assure him, feeling bad. "Don't worry about it."

He's much more careful for the rest of the massage, not going as high up my thigh as he probably planned to. However, despite that little hiccup, which Scotty continues to giggle over, the massage goes by swimmingly. He does my legs and feet before transitioning back to my upper body, working his expert hands into my pecs and shoulders. He even does a few stretches to really get my muscles singing -- and I couldn't be happier.

Once finished, our LMTs thank us and then leave the room to allow us to make ourselves decent. Scotty sits up as soon as they leave, but I need a moment to just relax. I close my eyes, really taking stock of my body for the first time in a long time. I feel refreshed, refreshed, renewed, relaxed, reinvigorated, remade -- all those re- words that come to mind. I feel good. Better, even. I needed this.

I hear Scotty moving around before I feel him nearby. Then, he places his hand on my shoulder. "Relaxed?"

"I never wanna move again," I murmur, and he laughs.

"That's a good thing, right?"

"Very," I say, smiling and then reaching up to pat the back of his hand. "Best birthday gift ever."

"You deserve it," Scotty says, nudging my knuckles with his thumb. Then, in a moment of tender affection, he runs his fingers through my hair. Even though I just got the massage of a lifetime, that simple touch makes my skin erupt in goosebumps, as if I haven't been touched in ages. "C'mon. We should get dressed."

"Okay," I say, opening my eyes and sitting up. I let my legs swing over the edge of my massage table as I watch Scotty gather up his clothes and start to dress himself. Little by little, his body gets covered up, and I find myself staring, my mind drifting. As I zone out ogling him, my thoughts bounce back and forth between today's occurrences: finding the cupcakes and the card, seeing Scotty for the first time since I professed my love to him, having an odd conversation in the car and an even odder conversation in the foyer... It all feels surreal. Tack on the massage, and I don't even feel like I'm myself right now.

Scotty eventually notices that I haven't made any effort to get dressed, and he laughs. "Earth to Uncle Ant."

"What?"

"We gotta go!" he says. He looks amused.

But I'm not ready to leave yet. "Come here." Still looking amused, he slowly approaches me, standing between my legs. I reach out and take hold of his sides. Even though he's clothed, I can feel his heat through his shirt. It's so particular and familiar. "Earlier... All that stuff about being your..."

"Boyfriend?" he suggests.

I wince. "That sounds so silly. I'm a grown man."

"How about 'manfriend'?" Scotty suggests, and both of us laugh.

"No way."

"'My lover'?" Then, he grins. "Or I could just stick with 'daddy.'"

I grunt a little, pulling him a little closer. "I don't care what you call me," I tell him. "But I just... I want to make sure this is..." Goddamn, what's the word I'm looking for?

"Real?"

I nod. That works.

Scotty reaches up and cups my jaw with one precious hand, his eyes darting back and forth between each of mine. "I love you," he says, and I swear my insides turn to mush. "And I want to love you the way you deserve. The way I should have been loving you this whole time."

Frankly, part of me is happy that it turned out this way. Without his exploration, he wouldn't have come to this conclusion on his own. He wouldn't have figured out that not only does he enjoy being with me, he *prefers* to be with me.

If I didn't feel so relaxed and at peace, I'd probably cry. Now, I just can't stop smiling. "Yes," I finally say.

He smirks. "Yes?"

"Yes, I'll be your boyfriend."

Scotty laughs, putting his hands on my bare thighs. Then, he shifts closer, ready to lean up to kiss me -- but he quickly notices something. "What's this?" he asks, glancing down at my hard-on with a grin.

I didn't even notice I was hard. "I don't know," I say honestly. "I wasn't even thinking about sex."

"Aww. Hard for cushy feelings, huh?" he teases, nudging my manhood with his knuckles.

"Shut up and kiss me," I mutter, and he doesn't hesitate. He steps in, tilts his head up, and kisses me deeply and romantically. God, I can't even really describe how good it feels to kiss him again -- and to think, it's not just playful anymore. There's intention. There's mutual love there. There's an investment in the future.

It doesn't last too long, though, because Scotty pulls back with a slight laugh. "Alright, get dressed before you scare them off with this thing," he says, nudging my cock again.

I chuckle a bit and nod. Probably a good idea. He gives me a quick peck on the lips before letting me hop off the table so I can get dressed. Once I've got my clothes back on, I stretch and call back our LMTs, who I tip handsomely for their work. Scotty interlaces his fingers with mine, and as we walk out, I wish a wonderful day to the receptionist, practically bouncing on my feet. I feel like I'm floating, like the only thing tethering me to the earth is Scotty's soft hand.

"Let's not go home just yet," Scotty says just as we get to the car.

"Where do you wanna go?" I ask. I'm willing to do anything at this point.

"I don't know," he says, shrugging and giving my hand a squeeze. "It's your birthday."

And what a damn good way to start my birthday. "You hungry? We could eat."

Scotty smiles. "Is this our first real date?"

I laugh, of course, but something about that sentiment sticks with me. As we walk into the downtown area searching for restaurants, I feel those same fluttery feelings I get when I'm dating someone for the first time but with an extra bit of something. Usually there's excitement, and nervousness, and mystery, but with Scotty? It's just pure, unadulterated elation. The simple act of holding his hand, knowing that he's mine and I'm his, feels incalculably precious.

When we find a cluster of restaurants, we sift through our options: Italian, Indian, Thai, classic American... However, none of it feels particularly right. In the end, we swing by a local, high-end grocery store because Scotty sees advertisements for picnic baskets. "Let's have a picnic!" he suggests.

I laugh. "There a park nearby?" I ask.

"Mhm! It's, like, five blocks away," he says before looking up at me. "What d'you say, handsome?"

"Sounds perfect to me."

We get the works: an expensive charcuterie-style picnic basket, a bottle of champagne, and a throw blanket to sit on. Then, lunch in hand, we make our way to the park Scotty mentioned. It's a quaint little space, equipped with a lush lawn, large willow trees, and a pond that's inhabited by ducks. I let Scotty choose the spot. He sets up the blanket close to the pond, right next to a willow tree with limp branches that graze the ground.

"Here good?" he asks me, smoothing out the little blanket.

"It's perfect," I tell him.

As I hand off the picnic basket to him and then join him on the blanket, he grins at me. "You're such a dork."

"What?" I ask, lying on my side, propped up by my elbow.

"You haven't stopped smiling for like an hour, now," he says.

Truth be told, my face does feel a little sore -- but I can't help it. I'm so happy, it's like I'm glowing from the inside out. "Sorry," I murmur.

"Don't be. It's cute," he says, leaning over to give me a quick kiss. "As long as you're happy."

I whimper a bit when he pulls his lips away. "I'll be happier if you give me a proper kiss."

He eyes me with a smirk before treating me to another kiss. This time, he holds his lips against mine. My free hand slides forward, gingerly holding his side. He hums against my lips a bit once I establish that extra bit of contact, so I pull him even closer -- and before I know it, I'm on my back with my boy on top of me. I wrap my arms around him, holding his taut body to mine, and I'm both overly aroused and incredibly at ease. Back and forth our lips go, our kisses getting gradually deeper until our tongues finally meet. This is it. This is how it's meant to be: me and Scotty, intimate, together.