Lazy Valentines (Lazy Days)

The bike, the restaurant, the people inside the restaurant…"
    "People?"
    The look on Devon's face was pure sweetness and honesty, his eyes bright with hope, mouth barely turned up into that beautiful crooked grin Scott loved. Scott just wanted to grab him and wrap him up in a big fuzzy blanket.
    "I want you to meet my friends and I want them to meet you, but I don't want it to be a bad thing for you. I guess my excitement got the better of me. I didn't think things through. You already told me you don't like surprises so it's okay if we don't—"
    Scott's finger over Devon's mouth silenced him this time. "Is there anything else in there I should know about before we go inside?"
    He watched as Devon tried not to grin… too much. "I swear there's no cockroaches inside the restaurant."
    "No… what?"
    "I'm just kidding… I hope. But seriously, I want this to be your decision. We can go inside or skip the whole damn thing. Your call, babe. I just wanna spend the day with you. You can meet my friends some other time."
    Scott's heart pounded harder against his ribs but for once in his life of fearful anticipation, it wasn't panic… just love. "Do you remember our talk about my panic attacks?"
    Devon didn't skip a beat. "I should talk to you in a low voice but not get excited. Stay close but not touch you unless you ask me to. Recite M.I.S.S.I.S.S.I.P.P.I. to get your attention and let you sit on the floor unless you look like you're going to pass out."
    Scott was simply amazed at the recitation, nearly word-for-word of what he'd told Devon. He should really stop being amazed since he figured the joy of Devon would just keep happening to him over and over again. "Perfect. So I have you and a pocket full of Ativan in case anything should happen. There's nothing else I need."
    "What do we do now?"
    "You introduce me to your friends, Dev."
    Devon kissed his temple and laced their fingers together. "If they give you a hard time, just say the word. I know all their weak spots and can have them moaning on the ground in the blink of an eye."
    "Good to know."
    Scott's insides vibrated as Devon led him by the hand into the grungy-looking diner. Despite his words of encouragement and his self-assurance that he wasn't going to panic, nervous energy rattled within him like a butterfly convention. It wasn't quite panic but Scott knew to pay attention to any other clues that might join the fluttering insects. He wanted to do this, needed to do this for Devon and for himself. Devon's confession had melted his heart and all he wanted to do was make him happy and lay to rest some of the guilt he was obviously carrying.
    The break-up hadn't been strictly Devon's fault and Scott vowed to be the best sport possible in Devon's still-mysterious—and unfortunately, not written-down—plans. A conversation with his mother earlier in the week had sparked an almost violent, rebellious reaction in him. He had this wonderful man at his side, and his mother knew nothing about his life. He was bound and determined to prove her wrong and make Devon proud at the same time.
    Still her voice seemed to echo in his head.
    "You can date as much as you want, Scott, but in the end you're just going to be alone like I always told you. Men do not stay with men. Get this gay phase out of the way and find a nice woman to give me some grandbabies before I'm too old to enjoy them. You have good genes so she doesn't even have to be attractive. You should be settled into your life by now and God knows you don't like new things so just finish sewing your imaginary wild oats and then give me something to enjoy for a change."
    He'd pictured the smug look on her face through the phone and it took everything he had not to just hang up, or better yet tell her she was an ugly, old hag with no friends. It wouldn't have been the snappiest of comebacks, more juvenile than anything else, but he didn't generally have any comebacks at all so it would have been a start.
    Instead he'd impaled his short nails into the thighs of his dress pants and sworn he'd die before he'd give up who he really was. God knew she'd been trying to change him for his entire life. "I'm not sure why you always forget you already have a grandson."
    She'd huffed out her disapproval into the receiver. "I haven't seen him since he was a baby—"
    "Because you disowned your daughter for having him out of wedlock ."
    "I'm quite capable of finishing my own sentences, Scott. You tend to forget she was only