Rising Sap

When I wake up, I feel like I slept like the densest rock on Earth. I feel both incredible and incredibly groggy. After rolling onto my back and stretching, I smack my lips and open my eyes. Everything looks unfamiliar before I realize where I am: in Scotty's bed.

It turns out he got up before me, because I'm alone. I look to where his body was lying last night, running my hand over the bare spot on the sheets and sighing to myself. I can't believe we did that. I can't believe *I* did that. I let myself slip up in my inebriation, and now I'm going to have to face Scotty again.

What even happened, really? Yes, we were intimate, but *why*? Lying in my best friend's son's bed, I stare up at the ceiling and review last night's events, almost from a third-person perspective. I watch Scotty and me share drinks at the bar, flirt and console and laugh and talk seriously. I watch us steal glances at various people in the establishment and fight over the last nacho on the plate. I watch us exit the building, step out onto the sidewalk, and kiss passionately in the open.

That kiss. That fucking kiss. What compelled me to take action like that, after resisting for so long? For a minute or so, I just replay that one quote in my head: "Isn't it obvious?" What's obvious, Scotty? Now that things are said and done, now that I'm sober, I'm not sure I quite grasped the nuance of that question -- if there even was any. I'm sure I saw what I wanted to see. Maybe I just got lucky.

Stop, Antoni. Don't go down this road. Just talk it out with Scotty, get to the bottom of things, make sure you're both on the same page -- and although you both enjoyed yourselves, only allow this one indulgence. The last thing you need is to get yourself into trouble with Eric.

I tug myself out of bed and glance at the clock on his desk. It's nearly noon. Running my fingers through my hair, I curse myself for sleeping so late on a weekend morning and find my clothes are no longer scattered on the floor; they're neatly folded up on top of Scotty's dresser. I smile slightly, taking them and redressing myself before slowly opening the door. I check to make sure the coast is clear and then head back to my room, change into different clothes so as to not look suspicious, and then make my way downstairs.

Because it's a weekend, both Eric and Yasmine are home, sipping coffee in the kitchen while Scotty sits on the counter. When I enter, I freeze up as all three pairs of eyes point towards my direction. I look at Scotty first and see that he's grinning. "Morning, sleepyhead," he says.

Immediately, I feel awkward under his gaze with his parents right there. I just clear my throat. "Morning, guys."

"Antoniii," Eric says with a grin. "Thought we'd have to head upstairs and exhume you."

And find me in your son's bed? Thank God you didn't. "Nope. Very much alive," I say with a slight laugh.

"You hungry?" he asks me, gesturing to a fruit salad on the kitchen counter. "The only thing Yasmine does well in the kitchen."

Playfully, she slaps his arm in protest, which makes us all laugh slightly. "Be nice," I tell him. "She knows she can do better than you."

"Oh ho ho," Eric says, laughing loudly. Whenever he does that laugh, he clutches his lightly protruding stomach and knocks his bearded head back. "You bastard."

I just smile and make my way to the fruit salad, eager to busy myself with something -- and fully aware that Scotty's eyes are watching me.

Thankfully, Eric and Yasmine are a touch oblivious. They never realized that their daughter was a lesbian until she came out, even though I saw that a mile away, and although Yasmine always had a hunch about her son, Eric was blown away when Scotty finally came out to them. They're good people, but they often miss the details because they're so focused on what they call "the bigger picture." No one really knows what that bigger picture means, exactly, but I still love them. Eric is, after all, my best friend. Scotty was right in saying that we're both so different, but still, we have a brotherly bond that was established when we were kids. Even though he's far too rational, statistics-based, a bit dense, and even a touch conservative (though he's never had an issue with me being gay), he's a pillar in my life.

"Heard you had quite an evening last night," Eric says.

I turn abruptly in the middle of chewing a grape, eyebrows raised. "What?"

"Scotty told me," he says, gesturing towards his son.

I turn to Scotty, who's just smiling innocently as he swings his legs. "I told him I had to babysit you last night."

"Oh," I murmur, swallowing the grape and trying to look calm and collected -- but really, I'm just terrified that, for the first time, Eric will sniff something out. That'd be my luck.

Eric comes over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder, leaning in, and speaking in a lower tone to imply that this is now a private conversation. "Listen.... Is everything okay?" Eric asks.

"Huh?" I say before nodding. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, everything's fine."

"Scotty mentioned something about money, said I should ask you."

"It's all fine," I assure him. "We can talk about it later, though. I'd like to get your opinion."

Eric just nods, satisfied. He's never pushy. "Sounds good, brother," he says, patting my chest.

For a while, we all just stand around in the kitchen, chatting about the day's plans. It's Eric's and Yasmine's anniversary (which I had completely forgotten), so they're planning on enjoying an evening out: fancy dinner at their favorite restaurant Canard, some live music, and a walk around the park. They do the same thing every year, but to them, it never gets old.

I do get some time alone with Eric to discuss the incoming money. His eyes nearly bulge out when I tell him the amount, and I tell him how I have mixed feelings about the situation. Unsurprisingly, Eric is not sensitive to the emotional side of things and murmurs "Are you stupid?" when I merely consider not keeping it. I knew he'd respond this way, but his rational nature does have some value, so it's still kind of nice to hear him nudge me in the "right" direction.

Then, Scotty knocks and steps into his dad's home-office space. "Yeah?" Eric asks.

"Mom wants to make cookies," he says, "from scratch."

Eric groans. "Are you kidding?"

"I tried to stop her," Scotty says, smiling slightly. Frankly, I'm amused too. No matter how many times she fails at cooking and baking, she always tries. Her own mother used to joke and say, "Thank God you're pretty."

"Christ," Eric mumbles. "Lemme go talk to her." We start to leave his office when he stops and turns, gesturing between me and Scotty and addressing his son. "You knew about all that money?"

"Yeah," Scotty says. "Uncle Ant and I had a... a nice heart to heart." His smile says "innocent" but his eyes are saying something else entirely.

"What'd you tell him?" his father asks.

"Not to get rid of it."

Eric smiles and nods. "Atta boy," he says before making his exit and saying he's going to go rescue Yasmine.

Now, suddenly, I find myself alone in the hallway with Scotty. "Hi," he says playfully.

I clear my throat. "Hi."

"How you feeling?" he asks me. "After... last night."

"I... um..." I laugh slightly. How *am* I feeling? I haven't really taken a moment to figure out how to articulate the thousands of emotions I'm experiencing simultaneously. "We should probably talk," I end up saying.

"Okay," he says.

"Privately."

Then, Scotty's mouth splits into a little grin. "I can accommodate," he says. He takes my hand and then tugs me down the hallway -- back towards his room.

At first, I really think we're just going to talk within the privacy of his bedroom. However, as soon as he shuts the door, he practically leaps into my arms. I catch him out of fear of him getting hurt, holding my arms around his trim waist. He just giggles, and before I know it, he's starting to kiss me.

"Scotty, wait--" I murmur, trying to fight myself and not kiss back.

"No," he says, sliding his hand in between us and gripping my cock through my pants. Immediately, I grunt. Oh fuck. He's got me. I nearly drop him, so I press him against the door for added support, automatically deepening the kiss. I can hear my own voice in the back of my head telling me to stop, to resist, to take a breather and talk things out, but when Scotty moans into my mouth, I totally lose all sense of myself. I'm powerless right now. All I want to do is taste and touch him.

I reach down and then slide a hand up his shirt, and he hums when we make skin-to-skin contact. God, he feels so silky. My hand slides up to his chest, and when my fingers find a nipple, I give the nub a gentle tweak, eliciting a boyish moan from Scotty. In response, he becomes more ferocious with his kissing, eagerly feeding me tongue. He's hungry, it seems -- further emphasized by the insistent hardness poking my stomach.

When I pull back from the wet kiss to catch my breath, Scotty takes the opportunity to hop down and quickly sink to his knees. I gulp, resting a hand on the door and looking down as he tugs my pants down mid-thigh. Then, he hooks his fingers into my underwear and very tenderly starts pulling them down to expose my cock a little bit at a time. Before I even swing free, he leans in and kisses my exposed shaft, making me sigh heavily through my nose. Once he tugs my underwear down enough, he wraps his soft fingers around me and laps playfully at the head.

I groan. Scotty's touch gives me absolute chills. For a moment, I'm taken over by the most comforting warmth just feeling his hand on me. That warmth slowly evolves into something more invigorating as he starts replacing fingers with his mouth, bobbing gently back and forth. I close my eyes, resting one hand on the back of his head and just lightly gripping his hair as he works. For a while, I just rest my other forearm against the door and relish the sensations Scotty is providing me, loving the way he laps at my precum and eagerly drinks it down. Then, when I look down, I'm a bit stunned by the sight of him. His eyes are so gently closed as he works back and forth that he looks oddly serene, even with his lips plumping on each drawback and his tongue occasionally darting beyond his lips.

Then, as if sensing me staring, Scotty slowly pulls off and looks up at me. He laughs a little, looking up at me sheepishly. "What?" he asks.

"Nothing," I assure him.

"Do I look silly?" he asks, stroking my cock gently with a loose grip.

I snort. "Silly?"

"Yeah," he says. "I always worry if I look dumb doing this."

"God, no," I tell him, bringing my hand to his cheek and stroking his bottom lip with my thumb. He takes it into his mouth and sucks gently. "You're fucking beautiful, kiddo," I murmur.

He blushes and smiles around my thumb before pulling away and standing up. "Let's go to the bed," he says, pecking my lips.

He takes my hand and leads me to his bed, which is just how I left it this morning: disheveled. Scotty seems to be taking charge, and he lies me down on my back, situating me how he wants me to be. He doesn't have me completely undress, though. My pants remain down mid-thigh, and he lifts up my cock with his left hand. Then, surprisingly, he pulls out his phone from his pocket.

"Can you record me?" he asks.

I blink. "Huh?"

"I wanna see what I look like," he says. He shakes the phone when I don't immediately take it. "C'mon, Uncle Ant."

I sigh a bit, taking his phone. In response, Scotty smiles and immediately starts going back down on me. "It makes me feel dirty when you call me 'Uncle Ant' in this context," I say, pulling up the camera on his phone and switching to video mode.

He pulls off with a little "pop!" and licks his lips. "Would you prefer 'Daddy'?"

"Fuck," I whisper, my cock visibly throbbing in his grip.

Scotty's eyes catch my cock twitching and he giggles before guiding me back to his mouth. As I start recording him, he puts on quite a show. He goes slow at first, maintaining that serene sort of look he initially started with at the door. Then, he sinks lower, inch by inch, gradually uncurling his fingers from around my cock so that his lips can kiss the very base. Goddamn, this kid is gifted. I let out a moan that's a partial laugh as I focus on my boy swallowing my entire length.

"Jesus Christ, kiddo," I murmur.

Slowly, he pulls back up to the tip and then smiles at me. "Impressed?" he asks cheekily.

"Very," I say, reaching down with my free hand to run my fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes and hums, leaning into the touch for a moment before getting back to the task at hand: giving me the best blowjob a man could ask for. He gobbles me up a little more ferociously this time. Gone is the innocently soft Scotty. He's been replaced with a hungrier version of himself, one who slobbers and lets his tongue go wild. Like last night, the sounds of sloppy head are practically echoing off the walls, and although I'm so fucking nervous that we'll get caught, there's no way in hell I'm stopping. Scotty has quite literally got me wrapped around his fingers... and lips... and tongue...

At one point, Scotty pulls off to catch his breath a bit. He shakes my cock back and forth, letting a string of precum fly around off of the tip. "God, you're so big," he whispers, almost to himself.

"Sorry," I say.

He looks up and smiles. "Are you kidding? I'm having the time of my life." He wraps his lips around the head of my cock and is about to continue before he remembers to say something. "You don't have to be so gentle with me, you know," he says, rubbing my manhood across his delicate features. "If you don't want to be, that is."

I blink a bit. What's he asking? "I can't help it," I tell him, still resting a hand on his head.

"I know," he says, laughing a little before pushing his face into my groin a little more. He buries his nose in my balls and takes a deep inhale before looking up at me again. "But I'm just saying," he adds.

"Is that what you want?" I ask him.

He shrugs a little, chewing on his bottom lip cutely. He pauses as if debating on what to say, and in the end, he says nothing. He merely picks my cock back up, opens wide, and wraps me back up in that moist warmth. I grunt, my hips automatically shifting upward enough for the head of my cock to hit the back of his throat. What does Scotty want, I wonder? Does he want me to take the dominant role, make him work a little harder, fuck his mouth a bit? At first, the thought of innocent little Scotty asking for slightly rougher sex doesn't make sense to me -- but then, as I watch his face get lightly flushed whenever my hips push upwards to meet his lips, it seems *right*.

I ease my way into it. Truly, the last thing I want to do is hurt Scotty, but if he doesn't want me to be so gentle, I'm willing to amp it up. Curling my fingers in his hair, I plant my heels firmly in the bed and start rocking my hips in time with Scotty's movements. He grunts as he bobs up and down, his hands moving to my thighs for leverage, and suddenly, he's working even harder. I bite my lip, still keeping the camera centered on him as I watch thick ropes of spit slide down my shaft on each back thrust, moaning softly. That serene expression has given way to something more focused, and Scotty moves with intent and drive. At one point, as I dip into his throat with each thrust, I think I'm giving it to him too intensely, so I pull back a bit -- but he grunts and grips my thighs tighter, asking for more.

"Oh fuck," I groan, my fingers automatically tightening around his curls. Scotty's suction is amplified, as if he can sense my impending orgasm, and before I know it, I'm holding my boy deep in my lap and doing everything in my power to not yell in pleasure. My cock throbs and throbs and throbs, shooting thick ropes of cum down his throat until my climax finally starts simmering down. Exhaling heavily, I let go of the back of Scotty's head, letting that hand drop to the bed, slightly dizzy from the orgasm.

Scotty slowly pulls off and takes a huge gulp of air, coughing slightly, red in the face. "W-wow," he says, laughing slightly as he tries to clear his throat.

"Shit," I whisper before giving him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry."

"No, that's okay," he says, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "That's what I wanted." He smiles playfully at me, like he's giddy. "I didn't even taste it, you know. Went straight down my throat."

God, that sounds so lewd coming from him. It's as if I'm seeing him in an all new light, as a young man with his own turn-ons, which could be far beyond what I've fantasized he'd be into. My precious Scotty all thrilled by the fact that I just shot a load straight into his stomach? It seems especially dirty -- and all the more thrilling because of it.

Then, Scotty climbs up my body. "Lemme see," he murmurs, taking the phone from me. He gets himself situated, lying in the crook of my arm and draping his right leg over my body before pressing play on the video. I hike my pants back up and make myself at least somewhat decent, only neglecting to zip up the fly and button my jeans. Together, as I stroke his back, we watch Scotty bob up and down on my manhood, the sight of which is already making my cock twitch again.

At one point, when he swallows me entirely and then shifts back up to lick the head, he laughs. "What?" I ask.

"Nothing," he says. "I just look... I look kinda hot doing that, don't I?"

I smile at the surprise in his voice, devoid of any trace of vanity. "I told you," I murmur, kissing the top of his head.

He laughs again. "I mean more like I look like I know what I'm doing."

"Certainly feels that way," I tell him.

"Would you say I seem experienced?" he asks.

"You could say that," I say before deciding to tease him. "You could also say you seem like a slut."

"Rude," he says, slapping my chest, and I chuckle softly. "You should be so lucky."

"I *am* so lucky," I murmur, and Scotty smiles up at me a bit before kissing me gently. After a few back-and-forth smooches, he tosses his phone to the side and then presses his groin into my hip, letting me know that he's hard and horny. I let my free hand drift down and cup his bulge, chuckling when I feel him. "Damn, why are you so warm down here?"

"I'm really horned up," he says.

Why does that sound especially cute coming from his lips? "Want me to take care of it?" I ask him.

He nods like a little puppy. "Yes please," he says.

I slide a hand right into his underwear, enveloping him in my grip. His eyes roll a bit as he thrusts into my fist, eager for more touch. Biting my lip, I tug him up, having him slide up to straddle my chest. As he gets into position, I help him out of his bottoms until he's naked from the waist down. Then, it's as easy as cupping his ass in my hands, pulling him forward, and taking him into my mouth.

There's something particularly arousing about having Scotty's weight on my chest as he rocks his hips. I feel my own cock twitching to life once again as I feel the smoothness of his cock against my tongue and lips, gliding effortlessly back and forth. I barely have to move my head because he's getting into it himself. He wasn't lying when he said he was horned up. As he grabs two fistfuls of my hair, I notice the insistent throbbing of his cock, especially when I nurse the head on each backstroke.

Whenever he gets into my throat, I focus on not choking or gagging. I don't claim to be as talented as Scotty when it comes to giving blowjobs, but I make up for it with enthusiasm, my tongue doing freeform dancing around his goods, my hands gripping his cheeks with urgency, my own groans guttural and needy. Scotty doesn't seem to find one stride that he likes. He gradually increases the intensity as he gets closer and closer to his orgasm, fucking my face a little faster and harder. Part of me wonders if he's just testing my limits, and part of me also wonders if I have any limits where Scotty is concerned.