Chapter Seven

Aiden

The ceiling fan was on and the whoosh of the blades was a constant hum. The walls seemed to creak and the feel of his surroundings was off. The sheets were different and seemed rough on his skin. The blanket on top of them was lighter than his own and he missed the comforting weight of his. Aiden had always had trouble with new places. He didn't like hotels and rarely traveled because he knew he wouldn't sleep well. It might stem from how often he'd been moved around as a child but he didn't think so. Even then, he'd struggled until he got used to the place he was at– if he even got to stay there long enough to get used to it.

Rocky had said he'd be checking in on Aiden throughout the night and Aiden really didn't want to seem needy or like a scaredy-cat by still being awake when Rocky came in, but he couldn't seem to settle. Turning to a new position again, Aiden tried to clear his mind and focus on sleeping but it didn't work. When he'd been a teenager, his foster mom had tried to tell him counting sheep would work but how was he supposed to count sheep when none were there and honestly how would counting them make a difference? He'd never had a truly active imagination. He'd often been told he was too literal and that might be true.

Eventually, he'd found that trying to solve math problems worked sometimes to put him to sleep but that was hit or miss because if he got started, he sometimes made his way to a math problem that was complicated and interesting and he'd be awake all night trying to solve it.

The knob on the door turned and it crept open. He was out of time. When Rocky poked his head in, Aiden couldn't bring himself to pretend he was asleep so it was immediately obvious to Rocky who pushed the door the rest of the way open and rushed in.

"What the matter, sweet boy? Is your head hurting again?"

Now that he'd mentioned it, Aiden noticed his head was indeed in pain, but that wasn't what was keeping him awake.

"Yes, but..." Why couldn't he bring himself to voice his troubles? It frustrated him that he couldn't just say what was in his head in situations like this. Why did he always have to hope people would understand? They rarely understood and Aiden rarely managed to get what he needed.

"Having trouble sleeping in a new environment?" Another question popped into Aiden's head. How was it that Rocky seemed to always understand what Aiden wanted to express?

"Yeah, it's been a problem my whole life."

"It's understandable. New places can be scary. Especially older buildings. They make funny noises that aren't familiar yet, the energy is different, so it's perfectly normal."

Aiden didn't believe him. Even though Rocky had described some of his issues perfectly, Aiden had never been considered normal. It was why he'd never found his forever family as a child. He was too weird, too different.

Rocky let Aiden know he'd be right back and disappeared from the room, returning with liquid Advil a moment later. He measured out the dose, offered it to Aiden, then sat on the edge of the bed as Aiden drank the medicine down.

"Good boy for taking your medicine without complaint." Rocky praised and something inside Aiden warmed at hearing the words. The feeling startled him. Aiden had been called a good boy before but it had never caused such a sensation before. Was it because it was Rocky who'd said it? "Let's see what we can do to help you get some sleep. Would it help to read a story?"

Aiden wasn't sure. He'd never been read a bedtime story before. Since he didn't know how to answer, he simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Would you like to try?" Would he? It was something he'd never experienced and that intrigued him. Maybe it would help.

"Could we?"

"Of course we can, baby. Give me just a minute to get a book. I'll be right back."

Once again, Rocky hurried from the room and Aiden was left to wonder what was happening. Rocky had cared for him so sweetly and carefully and Aiden had found himself soaking up the attention. Rocky hadn't asked for anything in return and had ignored Aiden's obvious attempts to initiate something more. He'd instead focused on helping Aiden relax and recover and Aiden couldn't help but wonder when he'd wake from his dream. It had to be a dream because no one had ever been so much of what Aiden needed and wanted. He wasn't about to assume he'd found it now.

Rocky came back in, carrying a small book with a golden spine. He pulled the covers back and urged Aiden to scoot over a bit, settling into the empty space with his back against the headboard. "Come closer, baby, so you can see the pictures," Rocky urged as he tapped the pretty bedside lamp, turning it on and creating a low soft light in the space.

Hesitantly, Aiden rested his head on Rocky's stomach waiting to be told not to, but Rocky didn't say a word. He simply opened the book saying, "This was a book I read my late husband and Little boy all the time. He loved it."

Rocky stiffened and so did Aiden. Aiden assumed Rocky hadn't meant to share that information but hearing it made Aiden feel special. Like he meant enough to share such personal things. It made Aiden feel like they'd somehow become closer simply from a handful of sentences. A small smile graced Aiden's lips when Rocky relaxed again and began reading, "The Sword in the Stone. Once upon a time..."

Aiden listened to the tale of a child becoming king and the many challenges he faced along the way. The story mixed with Rocky's soft rumbling voice, and the steady beat of the other man's heart lulled Aiden into a deep sleep long before the story was done. In his dreams, he was a powerful and just king, ruling and defending his kingdom, able to protect his people from any and all threats.

When Aiden woke, he found himself warm and cozy, his head resting on a sort of hard pillow. A pillow that moved, he realized. A pillow with a heartbeat and little hairs that tickled Aiden's nose.

"Morning, baby," a deep voice graveled with sleep said, startling Aiden so he shot upright in shock. He'd slept in the same bed as Rocky. He'd slept the best sleep he'd ever had in the same bed as Rocky. Oh, fuck. What had he done?

"M-morning," he finally managed to stutter.

Rocky reached over and brushed the hair from Aiden's forehead as he asked, "How's your head feeling?"

Aiden took stock and realized it wasn't so bad.

"It hurts a bit but more like a regular headache this morning."

"Okay, let's get you some more Advil to help it." Just then Aiden's stomach growled and Rocky amended his statement. "We should probably get some food in you first, though. It isn't good to take it on an empty tummy."

Rocky eased himself from the bed and reached a hand out to help Aiden. Aiden didn't even consider before reaching over and taking the offered hand. After snatching the Advil from the nightstand and slipping it into the pocket of his pajama pants, Rocky led Aiden to the kitchen and immediately put some bread in the toaster, before searching around in the fridge.

Once he had some eggs and other ingredients, Rocky asked, "Butter or Peanut butter on your toast?"

Glancing at the ingredients and knowing he'd be eating more food, Aiden opted against peanut butter since it would be too filling, "Jelly?" he asked.

Rocky also glanced at the food he'd gathered before answering, "I have grape and strawberry. Which do you prefer?"

"Grape, please," almost as soon as the words were out, the toast popped up, and Rocky grabbed a squeeze bottle of jelly from the door of the fridge.

As Rocky spread jelly on the toasted bread, he asked Aiden, "are there any foods you are allergic to?"

"Not that I know of."

Rockey set a small plate in front of Aiden and he grabbed a piece of toast, taking a huge bite. He really was very hungry. It was perfectly done. Golden brown with a bit of crunch but still semi soft. Aiden had never managed to find the right setting on his toaster and found himself wishing he could eat toast at Rocky's house every morning.

"Are there any foods you absolutely will not eat no matter what?" Rocky inquired.

"Liver and onions." Aiden said around another bite of the fabulous toast.

"No talking with your mouth full. I don't blame you with liver and onions, and you'll never have to worry about me trying to feed you that. Are there any others?"

There really weren't. Aiden had learned early in life that if he wanted to eat, he'd eat what was offered to him. Not many foster families were willing to take his preferences into consideration. He didn't say all that, though, he just shook his head in answer and continued to eat.

As he munched away, Rocky worked, chopping and whisking and shaking in this seasoning and that one. Despite being turned away from Aiden, he seemed to know as soon as the toast was gone and paused his task long enough to dose out medication and give it to Aiden. He watched as Aiden drank it then went back to his cooking. Before too long, they were settling at the massive table and dining on the most delicious omelets Aiden had ever tasted. He'd have to be careful if he was going to eat with Rocky very often. The man could cook, and food was one of Aiden's weaknesses. He could easily see himself becoming fat from eating too much of Rocky's divine cooking.

Rocky

It had brought him more pleasure than he was willing to admit out loud to wake with Aiden in his arms. It also pleased him beyond measure to have Aiden enjoying the food Rocky had prepared for him. Taking care of Aiden last night and this morning had settled something in his soul and for the first time in four years, he'd found himself talking about Seth. It had surprised Rocky that he'd mentioned Seth, but after a moment he realized it had felt right.

Rocky was loath to give up this time with Aiden. It seemed Aiden was good for him and Rocky hoped he was good for Aiden. It had seemed like the tension and stress had ebbed from Aiden more and more under Rocky's care last night. Rocky didn't want to let that go, so when breakfast was done and the dishes in the dishwasher, Rocky led Aiden to the living room couch and prepared to take a ginormous leap of faith.