Scott shook his head, disagreeing,
"There is No way possible you look like trash,
It ain't possible."
Spitfire took his head in his hands in utter pain,
it hurt badly,
and he closed his eyes tightly,
Scott Places a hand on Spitfire's fingers softly,
Scott could take both of Spitfire's hands and hold them tightly,
He had a much greater bone structure than Spitfire has,
and his hands were big compared to Spitfires.
"OH my head, it's pounding," Spitfire complains.
Scott frowns, observing, taking his hand and drying Spitfires tears,
"You haven't eaten anything,
if you took medicine for your head, you'd probably get sicker,
I'd suggest to sleep this off."
Spitfire sniffles, Drying his tears glimpsing over to Scott, who was sitting right next to him, "Don't leave Scotty, Please," he says softly.
Scott grimaces and bows, "I'm not leaving, I promise,
Close your eyes now,
when you wake, you'll feel better."
Spitfire sighs,
and pushes down further into his bed,
laying on his back,
he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Scott watched for a few minutes, but decides to walk noiselessly to the window seat to look outside,
it was beginning to look a lot like fall,
Middle of September
and the breeze was starting to turn bitter pretty quickly.
2 hours later
Spitfire still slept soundly,
Scott had dozed throughout the 2 hours
and still was napping when Spitfire awoke.
"S-Scotty, are you dead?" Spitfire asked, peering towards him.
Scott yawned, " I..." Scott yawned again " I fell asleep,
how ya feeling?" he says, standing up, walking over to Spitfire.
"Hmmm, Better," Spitfire stretched, "Much better,
sleeping is medicine, huh Scotty?"
"Yep, sure is,
there was this time when I had a hangover,
and man, I was sick that morning after,
but sleeping made it better,
sleeping is the secret medicine."
Spitfire smirked, sitting up " You could have napped with me,
There is plenty of room in this ol' bed."
Scott smiles and laughed
"I probably should have,
but didn't want to disturb you."
Spitfire laughed " I can sleep through a hurricane."
"Well, so could I, but,
seriously, I'm just happy your feeling better." Scott beams.
Spitfire stretches again,
draping his leg over his bed to get up,
"I'll get dressed,
what time is it, by the way?" he asked,
heading to the bathroom.
Scott stayed on the side of the bed and answered
"Ahhh, 10, Something," he says, looking towards the bathroom door,
You could hear clothing rubbing against one another
and a hairbrush drop on the floor.
Spitfire laughed and picked it up,
he was shirtless and continued to get dressed.
Scott curiously peeked around the door, grinning.
"Scott!" Spitfire screeches, turning away from Scott, "Is that any way a gentleman should act?"
Scott laughs " Well, we're both guys,
I'm not sure what your hiding?" He laughs, grabbing ahold of Spitfire and quickly starting a tickle attack.
Spitfire pushed away,
in laughter,
he hated being tickled,
and Scott was one to manhandle and take control of the situation.
"Stop, Scotty, Stop." Spitfire cries, Tears of laughter running down his cheeks, it was the first time in a long time that Spitfire actually laughed, and laughed hard, he fell to the ground,
laughing and used his feet to push away from Scott, who was straddling him,
They were both in the bathroom, on the floor
laughing, obnoxiously Scott continued to tickle Spitfire,
when suddenly Spitfires bedroom door opened,
Spitfire and Scott both laughed at extreme levels and didn't hear the door open.
"What's this?, Thought you were ill Spitfire?" Adam says, Standing looking at the two in the bathroom.
"D-dad." Spitfire pushed away from Scott, frightened,
he was scared of what Adam might have thought,
Scott didn't move but continued to laugh.
"What's so funny, hoying?" Adam asked.
"You, sir, Actually," Scott says, standing up to look Adam Deep in his grey eyes.
Adam starred coldly back at Scott, "What were you doing with my son?"
"Ridiculous as it sounds, sir, we were having a tickle war." Scott answers.
"Tickle war?" Adam asks, a bit confused,
Spitfire turned away from Adam,
and faced the wall,
"Spitfire," Adam speaks.
Spitfire jumped at Adams's voice, "Yes dad?"
Adam walked over to Spitfire and stepped over Spitfires shirt on the ground.
"Feeling better, or were you never sick
and just wanted to have a tickle war with hoying?" Adam asks, lifting a hand to move spitfires' hair away from his eyes.
Spitfire jumped when Adam raised his hand and flinched when his dad touched his cheek.
Scott watched Spitfire flinch
and he frowns from the fright in Spitfires eyes.
"I'm feeling better, dad,
Let me get dressed,
I'll be downstairs soon," Spitfire says, changing the subject.
Scott glares at Adam " He respectfully asked you to leave." Scott says sternly, "So I'd advise you listen to Spitfire, this is his---" Scott went to say but got cut off by Adam.
"You mean you're asking me to leave?" Adam says, dismayed,
"Scott Richard Hoying, I'm not sure if that is your place to ask me to leave?"
Scott smirked, "I'm not asking,
I'm telling."
Spitfire watched the two speak, nervously.
Adam Laughed at Scott " Boy, I can see where Spitfire is getting the Sarcasm... Now... I'm telling you to leave."
Scott simpers, glancing to Spitfire, who had his jacket tensed in his fist, up to his chin frightened, " Spitty, I'm not going anywhere." Scott says, stepping over to Spitfire placing his arm around his shoulders.
"I'm asking you to leave Scott, We can do this the easy way, or the hard way," Adam says coldly " Spitfire" he shouts, "You are not to see Scott anymore, Starting now... Scott Go."
Spitfire drowns in fearful thoughts,
Scott was Spitfire's security blanket,
He felt so Brave, and Strong when Scott was around
"No Dad," Spitfire says simply, stepping towards Adam courageously.
Adam arches a brow towards Spitfire, "Talking back, are we?"
"Yes," Spitfire says, standing up to Adam,
Scott watched.
Spitfires hands shook,
as he stood his ground, standing in front of Scott.
Adam stood in silence,
taking his hand,
and slapping Spitfire across the face,
Spitfire gasps roughly grabbing his cheek which was injured on the inside from the force,
Blood seeped through his teeth, and onto his hands.
Spitfire starred at the blood, taking his pointer finger to push the blood through the cracks on his palms, watching his blood flow like a river through a canyon.