The Golden Heart
Chapter 12
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The pancake mix fizzled quietly the second it landed on the flat surface of the small electric griddle. Once the moist mix was in a small circle, Fenton raised the mixing cup upwards so he could pour our another pancake, softly humming as he did so.
Beside him, Mrs. Beakley giggled quietly, a hand covering her beak. "Oh, Fenton, dear! You're just enjoying yourself far too much over there!" she admonished teasingly.
Fenton shook his head. "Nuh uh! Not possible! Cooking breakfast is far too enjoyable and relaxing for it to be too much!"
The accountant had not gone over to the table and sat down with Scrooge like the two of them thought he would. Instead he had made himself right at home in the kitchen and wordlessly began finding the ingredients for pancakes.
Speaking of, Fenton squeaked after pouring the last of the mix onto the griddle. "Eeek! Blathering Blatherskite! I nearly forgot the best part!"
Scrooge was sitting at the kitchen table, the morning newspaper propped up in front of him as though he was going to read it. But he wasn't reading it. He was too busy watching in awe at Fenton's antics.
As Fenton hurried to the fridge, Mrs. Beakley sneaked a glance over to the master of the mansion and raised an eyebrow at him. Scrooge simply shrugged as a form of replying.
Still in a rush, Fenton was quick to find what he was looking for in the fridge before closing it and darting back over to the griddle. Mrs. Beakley couldn't help but find herself leaning over to see what he was fussing about. She gave a soft gasp when she saw a container of fresh blueberries in his hands.
Sensing Mrs. Beakley's gaze, he glanced her way before taking some of the tiny berries and adding them into the pancakes mix before it was too late. "Almost forgot these bad boys!"
Blueberry pancakes.
"Whatever are yeh makin' over there, me treasure?"
Fenton shivered happily at the endearment before turning to look back at his paramour. "Blueberry pancakes, Scroogey, my love! Only the best, for the best!"
A small smile appeared on the old miser's beak as he began folding the newspaper up and setting it aside. He was fooling no one; he was far too distracted to read it.
As Fenton began flipping the pancakes over one by one, Mrs. Beakley discreetly stepped away from where she was making coffee. She edged her way over to Scrooge and stood beside him. For a moment they both watched Fenton; the accountant's back facing them, and observed how happy the other duck was. Fenton was currently dressed in just his soft yellow button down shirt. His usual tie, vest, and jacket having been left aside to be put on later.
Scrooge had no intention of going to the Money Bin that day and had invited Fenton to stay over. Of course, Fenton had gushed over the very idea and had nearly fainted at the idea of sharing a bed with Scrooge; even if it was merely for actual sleeping. Scrooge couldn't help but find it flattering. What little quirks and details about Fenton that once put him on edge; now seemed to be cherished.
"It's amazing" sighed Mrs. Beakley.
Scrooge jumped slightly at the sound of her voice. She was whispering; clearly not wanting Fenton to overhear.
She continued, "Yesterday, when I first saw him, he was but a mere ghost to what I see now."
Scrooge nodded. "Aye. He slept solid throughout the night and seemed fit as a fiddle this mornin'. His energy isn't completely back yet but I have no doubt he'll be back to his hyper chattering self soon. Like nothin' had happened." His shoulders slumped and he let out a sigh. "Mrs. Beakley, I just don't understand..."
They watched as Fenton continued to watch the pancakes carefully. His tail feathers swished back and forth as he hummed a different upbeat tune.
Trillionaire and housekeeper met each other's gazes as Scrooge spoke quietly, "He was dead. Cold as stone. He-He didn't breathe for at least a good ten minutes, Bentina. Now he's happily cookin' us breakfast..."
Mrs. Beakley said nothing. She had no words of wisdom to give her employer. How did one respond to such a thing? She'd done all she could to help Fenton rest and gather back his strength. She was also trying to be there as a confident for Scrooge the best way she could. Scrooge had explained how even the Legend's fairy claimed to be uncertain as to how Fenton was alive. That was the most disconcerting part of it all.
After a moment, she watched Fenton began to slide the finished pancakes onto a plate. She quickly asked, "Do you plan to tell him the truth?"
Scrooge's eyes widened at the very idea. He turned horrified eyes up to his housekeeper. "No! Oh, curse me kilts, Mrs. Beakley! I couldn't-" He turned to make sure Fenton still was not in earshot. "How would I ever go about that!?"
"He deserves to know what happened to him" was Mrs. Beakley's final remark.
The two of them weren't able to continue as Fenton then walked over with a hot plate of blueberry pancakes in one hand and a jar of syrup in the other.
"Here ya go, Scrooge! Freshly made blueberry pancakes! They're also for you, Mrs. Beakley!" he beamed proudly. He set the plate down on the table. The accountant turned and addressed the both of them.
"Oh, why thank you, dear!" beamed Mrs. Beakley.
"Aye. Thank yeh, Fenton."
"Heh, least I can do after you let me stay the night" shrugged the accountant.
An awkward silence filled the kitchen as the three of them gathered some pancakes onto their plates.
Never having been one to handle silence well, Fenton asked, "So, what were you guys talkin' about, hmm? I was busy making these pancakes and didn't hear you guys."
Both Mrs. Beakley and Scrooge looked like deer caught in headlights.
Scrambling to think of something to say, Scrooge cleared his throat and gave a small nervous chuckle before saying, "Oh, heh!" He looked down and saw the paper in front of him. He quickly grabbed it. "Just commenting on the stock market! It says some investors are buyin' and sellin' stocks!" He laughed and it was clear how forced it was.
Fenton raised an eyebrow at him as he sat down on the other side of the table. "Well, yeah. That's what the stock market is for, after all."
"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Beakley after biting into a forkful of pancake. "These pancakes are amazing! Whatever did you put in these pancakes, dear?" She pointed at one of the blueberries in the pancake.
Fenton blinked at her. "Blueberries. That's why I called them blueberry pancakes." He said this as though it was the most evident thing in the room. In this case, it basically was. "You watched me put them in."
Mrs. Beakley laughed. "Oh, of course! Silly me!" She quickly stuffed her mouth with another bite.
Fenton continued to watch them suspiciously.
Scrooge busied himself by grabbing the jar of syrup and pouring some over his own plate of pancakes.
Not knowing what else to say, Fenton shrugged and grabbed the jar after Scrooge. Their fingertips brushed against each other for a moment, causing both of them to jolt in surprise. Their eyes met. After a moment, Fenton smiled. "Heh, enjoying the pancakes, my paramour?"
Scrooge felt himself nodding, though his thoughts were all muddled up in his mind. He still couldn't shake the feeling of how he'd felt when he realized Fenton's heart was no longer beating; nor could he shake the image of Fenton's lifeless form still lying there in the Pool of Tears.
Feeling something akin to panic squeeze his heart, Scrooge cleared his throat and looked away. A moment later he looked to his plate of barely eaten pancakes and before he knew it, he'd grabbed the plate and reached over and placed it over next to Fenton's.
Before Fenton could even so much as swallow his food and ask what was happening, Scrooge was scooting over around the large round cushioned seats that went with the table and settled himself right next to the now blushing accountant. The old miser had dragged his newspaper along with him and was now smiling at Fenton and folding up the slightly crumpled up paper neatly.
"Scrooge?"
The panic in his chest was already subsiding now that he was sitting closer to Fenton. The need to be closer to him finally happy. Mrs. Beakley, who was still standing up and eating off the side of the table, had watched with owlish and questioning eyes. Though she was quick to smile once she caught on to what had happened.
Setting the paper aside, Scrooge gave his younger boyfriend a half lidded smirk which caused Fenton to blush even more. Scrooge had never looked at him like that before! Not with so much affection, devotion, and...Dare he even think it...Lust!
He'd only ever seen Scrooge look like that when he was happily swimming in his coins in the Money Bin.
"Boy, is it suddenly hot in here or is just me?" chuckled Fenton shyly as he pulled at the collar of his shirt.
Scrooge's gaze never left Fenton.
Mrs. Beakley cleared her throat. "I think I'll leave you gentlemen alone." She picked up her plate and began walking away. "Thank you again for the pancakes, Fenton!"
Fenton nodded absently as he silently watched her leave. He then felt a hand begin to fiddle with the collar of his shirt.
"Fenton" said Scrooge quietly.
The pancakes on both of their plates seemed long forgotten as Fenton turned to look back at his paramour. Swallowing his nerves down, Fenton squeaked, "Yeah, Scroogey?"
His eyes still half lidded, Scrooge's smirk faded to a light frown. "I know I haven't put much effort in our...relationship. I just want yeh t'know, I...I love yeh, Fenton. I may not...show it all the time and I may push yeh away sometimes... But that's just who I am, I'm afraid. But I want yeh t'know...yeh really do mean a great deal t'me..."
A dopey, haphazard grin appeared on Fenton's beak as his eyes filled with tears of happiness. "Oh, Scroogey! Ya say such sweet things when ya want to! Do you really mean it!?"
Scrooge nodded, his frown slipping away into a soft smile. "I can confidently say that I do, Fenton. I donnae understand any of it. I'm...I'm old, Fenton. I really dinnae think I would find meself feelin' these feelings ever again. I haven't very many times in me life, if I'm bein' honest. Nothin' very serious. Not since..." he trailed off, looking away only for a moment to think. He then looked back. "Not since Goldie...And yeh know how that turned out..."
Fenton sat up straighter and turned to the older duck. He quickly grabbed the trillionaire's hands and held them tenderly. "I know, Scroogey! I know! But I promise you, it's not your money that I want! It's you! The way you make me feel is indescribable! I feel like a SOMEBODY when I'm with you! I love seeing you happy! I would do anything to keep you happy! I would give up my life if it meant you were happy!"
"NO!" cried out Scrooge, gasping loudly at the proclamation. He quickly shut his eyes, forcing himself not to allow his emotions to overwhelm him again. The last thing he needed was for Fenton to start asking questions. He didn't think he was capable of dealing with explaining the events in France to him. He instead held on to Fenton's hands. "I-I mean-A-Aye, me treasure. I know. B-but please-Don't say things like that."
Fenton tilted his head to one side. "But why not!? It's true!"
Scrooge shook his head. Fenton had no idea just how much Scrooge knew that to be true. 'Yeh've already sacrificed yerself for me once, laddie' thought Scrooge forlornly. He didn't dare say this out loud though. He didn't have the heart to do it.
Sighing, the old miser forced a smile on his beak. He then leaned forward and gave Fenton a soft kiss. The accountant happily returned it.
Their first real kiss!
Of course, Fenton and Scrooge had shared many kisses. Small kisses on the cheek, forehead, or side of their beaks. Fenton, of course, was always the one who initiated them. But now Scrooge was the one starting the kiss!
Fenton could not recall a time when he was happier!
Once they pulled back from one another, Fenton looked happier than a child on Christmas. "Aww, shucks, Scroogey. Who knew you could be such a softie!? If only the rest of the world could see how sweet you were!"
Scrooge gave a half shrug. "Sadly, I doubt I would be where I am today if they did."
Fenton nodded, understanding. "True. Too busy being a toughie and a smarty to be sweet."
"Toughest, smartest, an' sharpest. Always."
After another moment, the two of them let go of their hands and dug further into their pancakes. Scrooge felt as though he had a lot more he wished to say, but for now, that would have to do. He was just thankful he had his Fenton back, even if he wasn't entirely sure how.
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"When are you going to come home?" asked the drawling voice of Mrs. Iva Crackshell on the other end of the line. Fenton had been quite surprised when Scrooge had offered for Fenton to stay at the mansion longer and while his heart felt like it wanted to beat our of his chest at the offer, he still wished to check in his with mother. He knew very well how zoned in she could get into her soap operas and it wasn't uncommon for her to become so engrossed in them that she forgot to take care of herself.
"Not sure. We're still a bit jet lagged from the trip and Scrooge says I hit my head pretty hard while I was there. Which is why I don't remember half the trip, I guess" replied Fenton. He was using the phone line in the main foyer. He waved as little Webby walked by, holding tightly to her stuffed animal. She watched him curiously as she went; as though silently asking why he was there.
Just when Fenton thought Webby was going to pester him with questions, she turned and left. Clearly she was more polite than Huey, Dewey, and Louie and knew better than to bother someone when they were on the phone.
"Pfft. You would hit your head and have to stay away longer" grunted Iva.
"Gee, M'ma, sounds like you miss me!" teased the accountant.
"What gives you that idea? I just want someone to come home and do the laundry" she deadpanned.
Fenton rolled his eyes. He remembered all too well the last time he dared to believe his mother would do the laundry. He had made a complete fool of himself in front of Scrooge and Glomgold. "Don't worry! I'll be home eventually to do the laundry! Boy, can't a guy be missed around here!?"
Fenton could practically hear his mother's eye roll over the phone. "Whatever. Thanks for checking in. I'll let you get back to your sword playing."
Fenton blinked. "Sword playing?"
"Yeah. Your...escapades. Adventures. Whatever it is these kids are callin' it these days. What does Mr. McDuck call it?"
"Call what!?" demanded Fenton, completely confused.
"Fenton" snapped Iva.
"Yeah?"
"I know how much you love to talk about anything and everything. Just whatever you do, never give me details. Never talk about THAT! Ya hear me?"
"Details about what?"
"You seriously don't know what I'm talking about?" sighed Iva in frustration.
"No?"
"Think about it, Fenton" groaned Iva. "Sword play." After a beat of silence, she added, "THINK about it."
And thinking about it is what Fenton did. He stood there in the foyer thinking it over; the phone still up to his ear. Iva waited silently on the other end of the line.
"OH!" Fenton finally exclaimed, his face instantly turning a deep shade of red.
"There it is" deadpanned Iva.
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Several minutes later, Scrooge was placing his night cap on top of his head as he walked into the foyer. Though they hadn't done a whole lot, the two ducks were still badly jet lagged and their sleep patterns were off. This left Fenton and Scrooge going to be earlier in the evening in an attempt to straighten things out.
He now had his night outfit on after having just taken a shower. Typically he didn't like to venture through the house in such a state, but he wished to find a book he could curl up with as he settled down for the night.
"Fenton!" he called out. "Fent-oh! There you are!"
To his left, he found Fenton standing next to the small table; clutching the phone close to his chest for dear life.
Not seeing the state the accountant was in, Scrooge continued, "Yeh can take a shower whenever yeh'd like. I'm just gonnae go an' grab a book from the library. I'll see yeh in a bit."
When he didn't get an immediate response, Scrooge finally noticed that the poor accountant's face, neck, and upper chest were completely red from his burning blush. Fenton's eyes were staring down at the floor; his mind lost in the exhilarating and embarrassing thoughts his mother had helped put in there.
Concern immediately washed over the old miser as he stepped closer to his younger boyfriend. "Eh, Fenton? Are yeh alright? Did yeh get in touch with yer mother then?"
Snapping out of his thoughts, Fenton looked up, his eyes widening further at the sight of his paramour. He unceremoniously found himself shouting at the bewildered rich duck, "I'd love to sword fight with you but I've never played swords with anyone before and the very idea makes me very nervous! How have I not thought of this sooner!? Of COURSE there will be sword playing involved! Oh! Blathering Blatherskite! Why did M'ma have to go and put those thoughts into my head!? Now I can't stop thinking about playing swords with you, Scroogey! I think I need to go take a cold shower now!" Fenton then dropped the phone back onto its holder and ran off up the stairs behind him.
Scrooge just blinked at the retreating duck. Fenton's words had been spoken so fast, most of it all sounded like a jumbled mess. Not understanding the euphemism, Scrooge shook his head as he started walking towards the library. "Sword playing? Hah! As if I'd ever trust Fenton with a sword. He'd go and hurt himself with it fer sure. Clumsy thing" he muttered to himself.
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It took some time, but having found a book that he wished to read in bed, Scrooge was just about to walk back into his bedroom when he heard the door to his personal bathroom open. As he walked into the room, he adjusted his spectacles at the end of his beak as he took in the sight of Fenton in one of his bathrobes.
"Ahh! Perfect timing! I finally found a good book to read before bed!" Scrooge said as a way of greeting.
Fenton, who was tightening and tying the robe around him, looked up with wide eyes; his face and neck immediately going red once more.
Seeing his blush, Scrooge gave him a curious look. "Are yeh alright, Fenton?"
Gulping, Fenton nodded. "Y-yes. Just uh...Just still a little out of it..."
Scrooge frowned yet Fenton was quick to explain.
"F-From the jet lag!"
"Ahhh! Makes sense."
Fenton watched as Scrooge climbed into his be, pushing back the covers just enough for the old miser to wiggle himself in. Scrooge sat closest to the door of the room and leaned over to turn the small lamp on for better lighting.
Fenton just tapped his fingers. He still couldn't quite believe his luck. Here he was, standing in Scrooge McDuck's bedroom, and not being chastised or kicked out for trespassing! The night before he had been exhausted. Too exhausted for it to really sink in that he was sleeping in his paramour's bedroom. Let alone in his paramour's bedroom at all!
Scrooge looked up from his book, seeing that the accountant was still just standing there. "Are yeh gonnae stand there and gape like a fool all night then?"
Fenton snapped out of his thoughts. "N-No! J-Just lost in thought!"
Scrooge rolled his eyes as he turned a page in his book, glancing back down at it idly. "I'd think there weren't enough thoughts in yer head to get lost in there" he teased.
Knowing full well by now that Scrooge was only jesting, Fenton pressed his hands over his heart and dramatically played along, "Oh, my paramour is so mean to me! My heart! My heart can't take it! Why must my love be so cruel!?"
Smirking, Scrooge raised an eyebrow at him. "Fenton, do the world a favor and never become an actor."
"Haha! Your wish is my command, Scroogey!" laughed the accountant. The lighthearted banter between them had helped settle Fenton's nerves as he was finally able to walked around the bed and settle himself in.
Scrooge was now heavily invested in his book as the two of them sat there. Fenton knew he had the option of getting a book himself, but he simply didn't feel like it. Now that he was laying in bed, he found the idea of getting up far too much of a chore. Instead he opted to simply enjoying his paramour's company, once again finding himself lost in the idea that he was in Scrooge's bedroom.
That was when his phone call with his m'ma came back to his mind and Fenton found his face quickly warming up once again as he recalled their conversation. The shower had certainly helped, but now that he was just sitting there with nothing else to distract him, he couldn't stop thinking about it. It didn't help that Scrooge was sitting right there beside him!
Fenton squirmed in his spot. He hoped it wasn't enough to bother Scrooge, but sadly, not a whole lot got past the old miser.
Sighing and bookmarking his page, Scrooge closed his book and glanced over at the younger duck. "Yer as jumpy as a fox in a hen house, Fenton. What's wrong?"
"Nothing! Really! It's nothing!" insisted Fenton.
Scrooge just gave him a deadpan stare.
Cracking under the stare, Fenton winced and began to fiddle his thumbs together. "Well, I Just-It's m'ma's fault! She's the one who went and got it all in my head! And now I can't stop thinking about it and I'm just finding myself...nervous!"
"Got what in yer head?"
"Oh, don't make me say it!" whined the accountant. He grabbed the big plush pillow behind him and slammed it on top of his head; his knobby kneed legs kicking out. "It's embarrassing enough that I'm in your bed-let alone having to make me talk about it!"
Scrooge blinked for a moment as he watched the accountant continue to hide his face in the pillow and squirm. Then he replayed Fenton's words from earlier that evening and it dawned on the rich duck. His eyes widening a bit in realization, Scrooge made a soft humming noise in the back of his throat. "Ahhh, I see. This eh..." He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. "This wouldn't have anythin' to do with that 'sword playin'' yeh mentioned earlier, would it?"
Fenton froze from his inner torment.
Scrooge nodded, even though Fenton couldn't see it. "I dinnae get it at the time, but lookin' back, I suppose I'm not too surprised yer mother would bring it up. She's quite blunt. Not one t'beat around the bush."
Fenton was now all but hiding himself under the pillow and blankets.
Silence filled the bedroom as Scrooge took this into consideration. So that was what was causing the accountant to fuss so much. Well, Fenton was far from his first love interest and he was far more familiar with these matters than his younger paramour. While he may not share this out loud, Scrooge would be quick to admit that anything beyond kissing had been far from Scrooge's mind for far too many years. It came with the territory of being the world's richest duck. He didn't have much time nor interest in such affairs. Not to mention he could never be too careful with who he invited to his bed; especially after Goldie's betrayal.
Now he was with Fenton though. He knew deep in his bones Fenton would never purposefully hurt him.
Having made a decision, Scrooge raised a hand and plucked the pillow out from Fenton's grip. Fenton squeaked as his hiding spot was taken from him.
Scrooge set the pillow aside and leaned over towards his paramour so that his chin rested on Fenton's left shoulder. With half lidded eyes, Scrooge whispered, "I could teach yeh how to sword play, if that's what yeh wanted."
The older duck could tell just by Fenton's reaction that the younger duck's heart rate just sky rocketed. "R-R-Really?" Fenton found himself asking. He turned his head so that their beaks were nearly touching.
Playing coy, Scrooge shrugged and pulled away. "Only if yeh want to. I'm not about to force yeh into anythin'."
"I-I know you wouldn't, S-Scroogey" replied Fenton quickly. "I-I just-I'm nervous! I've never-W-What if you don't like what you see!?"
"I wouldn't suggest this if I wasn't interested, treasure" assured Scrooge. "Don't go fillin' yer head with nonsense and worry!"
Fenton whimpered a bit and curled up by bringing his legs up closer to his chest. His face was still quite red under his feather from all his blushing. "B-But-what if I'm...What if I'm no good?"
Catching on to the root of Fenton's anxieties, Scrooge leaned back in and ran a hand down the back of Fenton's neck; causing shivers of pleasure to run down Fenton's spine. Their beaks were once again close to touching. "Won't know till we try, now will we?" He gave Fenton a chaste kiss. "Besides...No one is ever good on their first try." He winked at Fenton, who could only stare in mild surprise and awe.
"So you're saying I AM going to be bad?" asked Fenton innocently.
Scrooge's shoulders lowered as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. He breathed in and let out a long sigh. Despite how much he cared and loved Fenton, he couldn't help but be reminded of his age and naive immaturity he often showed. He felt far too old to be dealing with first time jitters. Yet he couldn't blame Fenton. It was far from his fault and it was nothing to be ashamed about.
Patiently, Scrooge gathered his thoughts and smiled at Fenton, who was staring back at him with worry and nerves. "There's no need t'be nervous" smiled Scrooge. "It's only me." He sat up and set his book on the table before it fell off the bed where he had laid it.
Fenton watched as Scrooge McDuck, the world's richest duck in the world, moved onto his knees and crawled out from the covers and over towards Fenton until he was sitting just in front of him.
Scrooge rested a hand on one of Fenton's knees and noted how jumpy the younger duck was. Keeping a patient smile on his beak, Scrooge carefully pulled back Fenton's nightgown and pulled Fenton's knobby knees apart and helped him settle into a more comfortable sitting position.
Just as Fenton was about to open his mouth to speak, Scrooge cut him off, "Just relax, treasure. All yeh have t'do is tell me if there's somethin' yeh don't like. Yeh can tell me t'stop any time. I won't be upset." As he spoke, Scrooge reached down and found the tender spot between Fenton's legs.
Fenton jumped at the contact, but otherwise stayed still. His fingers were gripping the maroon colored bed sheets tightly.
"That's it, lad. Ease into it" coached Scrooge softly.
"I-It feels..." Fenton trailed off, moaning slightly as Scrooge moved his hand.
"Go on, me treasure. Tell me how yeh feel" encouraged Scrooge. He was looking up into Fenton's eyes, knowing the eye contact would put his paramour at ease.
Fenton met Scrooge's gaze before closing his eyes as the sensations became more intense.
Scrooge knew Fenton was enjoying this, but he felt the need to lean forward for more intimacy. Seeing what the older duck was doing, Fenton moved his arm as though he was going to wrap it around Scrooge's neck.
Sensing his hesitation, Scrooge nodded. "Aye, that's right. This is a two person dance. We're gonnae focus on you tonight though, treasure. Yeh don't have to do anythin'. Though I wouldn't mind bein' held close."
"W-What about-about you?" gasped Fenton. "What should I be doing-for you!?"
"As I said, don't fuss about me" was the simple reply. "Though a few kisses wouldn't be amiss either." He smirked at Fenton.
Needing no other invitation, Fenton closed his eyes as he pulled Scrooge closer; his arms around the rich duck's neck. He kissed Scrooge on the beak first, their lips brushing the other's. Fenton just went with his instincts; knowing that his usual talking wouldn't be appreciated. It was habitual for Fenton to blurt out whatever was on his mind, but for once he didn't feel the need. Feeling Scrooge's hands on him, especially in that particular area, was making his mind go blank. So instead, he did what came natural and began kissing and lightly sucking on Scrooge's neck and jawline.
Scrooge returned the favor and began kissing Fenton's neck as well.
It was a heady thought for Fenton to think about what was happening to him. Surreal. He was in awe by how tender Scrooge was being. Also quite impressed and slightly alarmed by how well Scrooge knew him. He seemed to know just where to touch.
He could feel something building. He opened his beak to tell Scrooge before suddenly it all became too much. With a whimper, Fenton found himself gasping and shuddering; the pure heavenly bliss filling his body. He was no longer kissing Scrooge and instead just leaning into him; his chin resting on Scrooge's shoulder.
They stayed just like that. Holding onto each other.
After an unknown amount of time, he felt Scrooge pull away.
Fenton was still shaking and breathing heavily from the nirvana like feeling. He distantly recalled hearing Scrooge shuffle about on the bed; the bed springs sounding louder than usual in his dazed state. Fenton gasped and jumped again when he felt Scrooge cleaning him up.
"Oh...Sorry. Messy" was all Fenton was able to say, moving a hand to help clean.
Scrooge nodded. "Aye. It's alright. All very natural. Nothin' t'be ashamed of."
"I-I know that much" chuckled Fenton.
"Oh? Yeh were actin' like yeh didn't know a thing about any o'this a little while ago" teased Scrooge as he finished cleaning up.
Fenton laid back against the pillow that had been placed back in their rightful spot. His eyelids felt heavy and his body felt boneless. He pulled his nightgown back down and closed his legs. He then pulled the covers over him.
Scrooge had stood up and walked into the bathroom. He was out momentarily. "Quickly wash up, treasure, before yeh fall asleep. We have work in the mornin'."
Fenton nodded and forced himself up. He legs felt wobbly underneath him but he didn't waste time. He was exhausted and fully ready to sleep now. He quickly washed up and before too long, he found himself laying back down next to his paramour.
Scrooge had long since forgotten about his book and was now ready for sleep of his own.
Wordlessly, the two lovebirds settled into the bed.
"Scrooge?"
"Aye, Fenton?"
"Can I hold you?"
Scrooge was silent for a moment before he scooted closer to the middle of the bed, where Fenton met him halfway. "Oh, I suppose" huffed Scrooge without any bite.
Fenton didn't waste time, wrapping an arm around Scrooge, who allowed Fenton to wriggle about until his head was tucked under the old miser's chin. Fenton smiled, resting his head on Scrooge's chest.
The two of them began to drift asleep before Fenton spoke again, "Scrooge?" His voice was barely more than a whisper.
"Aye, Fenton?" mumbled Scrooge sleepily.
"I'm glad my first time was with you."
His eyes closed, a sappy smile formed on Scrooge's beak. He turned his head down so he could kiss Fenton on the head. "Goodnight, Fenton. I love you."
"I love you, too, Scroogey. Goodnight."
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It was early the next morning that found Scrooge walking through the mansion; his mind already on figures and dollar signs as he thought about his business plans for the day. Fenton was still asleep when Scrooge had woken up and he had found it impossible to wake the younger duck. He had looked so peaceful.
Scrooge was just walked past the foyer when the very irritated, baritone voice of his butler sounded through the room.
"Excuse me, sir! But I must insist you leave! I will not hesitate in calling the police!" demanded Duckworth.
Worry and panic seeped into Scrooge's bones at the threat. His mind reeling as he wondered who could cause such a reaction from his usually stoic and reserved butler. "Ach! Thieves!?" he gasped. He quickly over to a nearby hutch. It was adorned with statues and other valuables he'd collected in his years of adventuring. He opened a secret compartment with the press of his thumb and off the side of the wooden furniture peice came a small dagger he kept for emergencies. While it wasn't his first weapon of choice, it would have to do.
He could hear another voice shouting back at Duckworth. It sounded male and vaguely familiar. The sound of Duckworth trying to slam the door in the person's face kept him from overhearing anything more than Duckworth's side of the argument.
"Can it, yeh blasted butler! You can't tell me what I can and can't do!"
Scrooge's eyes widened. He knew that voice!
"Flintheart Glomgold!" he yelled as he walked into the front room towards the front door.
Duckworth jumped at the sound of McDuck's voice and he quickly turned to see Scrooge standing there in his usual blue jacket with a small dagger in his hand.
The distraction was enough to catch Duckworth off guard and with one solid shove, Glomgold managed to push the bulter out of the way and open the doorway fully.
Now completely inside the mansion, Glomgold glowered back at Duckworth who was collecting himself and standing up straighter. They both heard him shut the door.
Scrooge's eyes were glaring at his rival. "What the blazes are yeh doin' here, Flintheart!? I thought I'd made meself perfectly clear when I told yeh I never wanted to see yer ugly gob ever again!"
It was then that he realized and noticed Glomgold's appearance. The second richest duck looked awful. He had bags under his eyes, his beard was messy and tangled; not to mention in desperate need for a wash. His usual jacket and kilt were wrinkled and sloppy.
Glomgold nodded at Scrooge's skeptical look. "Aye. Yeh see what yeh've done to me, McDuck!? I can't stand this and I want it fixed! NOW!"
"Can't stand what!? The sight of yer face!? Cause neither can I!" retorted Scrooge spitefully.
Duckworth, who was still standing nearby, shot a look at his boss, who returned it with a shrug. "Thank yeh, Duckworth, that will be all."
"Good luck with that one, Mr. McDuck" spoke the butler quietly before leaving the room.
Glomgold let out a long sigh that whittled out into a small whimper. "No! J-Just let me explain!" He then clammed up, seemingly at a loss for words.
Scrooge just raised an eyebrow when his rival didn't immediately explain himself. Still holding the dagger tightly in one hand, he crossed his arms and began tapping one of his webbed feet. "Yer this close to meetin' my friend, the dagger, here, Flinty" he growled, fiddling with said dagger. "Yeh nearly cost me Fenton's life! Yeh went t'France with us knowin' full well I was gonnae unintentionally kill a man! I shouldn't even be gracin' yeh with a conversation, let alone allowin' yeh in my house! Especially after I specifically told yeh I never wanted to see yeh ever again!"
An unreadable expression crossed over Glomgold's face. Balling his hands into fists, he groaned and said, "I'm here to make a deal!"
Scrooge shook his head. "Not interested, Flinty!"
The second richest duck sighed. "Just hear me out! Please!"
Scrooge continued to stand there tapping his foot' clearly growing more and more impatient.
Clearing his throat, Glomgold shuffled nervously on his webbed feet for a moment before saying, "I would like to sell you my oil rig down in the Pacific."
Scrooge blinked in surprise. That was far from what he had been expecting from his rival. "Yer oil rig? But that's one of yer biggest grossing profits! Yeh sell that and yeh lose millions!"
Glomgold met Scrooge's gaze, yet said nothing.
Scrooge only stared at his long time rival suspiciously. Finally, when it was clear Glomgold wasn't going to further explain himself, he said, "What are yeh up to, Flintheart? What's yer angle with this? You said this was a deal. You never make a deal with me unless yeh want somethin' out of it in return and try to screw me over in the process! So, let's have it!"
"I want your forgiveness."
"WHAT!?"
"My oil rig for your forgiveness. That's all you'll need to pay for it! You said you didn't want to see so much as a post-it note about me and that if you ever did, I'd rue the day! Well, here's my deal! I sell you my oil rig, you gain it's profits, and you and I forget this whole mess ever started and things go back to how they were. I can't stand the thought of you hatin' me for the rest of our lives! I know I was never your favorite person but at least you could be somewhat civil with me and in the same room as me! You have to forgive me for what I did to Crackshell!" begged the second richest duck. His fingers were getting more and more tangled in his beard as he anxiously waited for Scrooge's reply.
A look of appalled horror spread across Scrooge's face. "Let me get this straight! Yeh want to BUY my forgiveness!?"
Clearly at his breaking point, Glomgold cried out, "I went overboard, alright!? I see that now! It never occurred t'me that you would react so badly to my scheme! I never-Never dreamed you would practically banish me from ever seein' you again!"
Scrooge frowned. "Really, now. Do I have t'repeat myself? You nearly cost me Fenton's LIFE! How could yeh think I wouldn't react badly to it!? What part o'this don't yeh understand!?"
"I understand it! I just ever thought yeh actually CARED that much about the stupid lad!" rumbled Glomgold as he began pacing back and forth in front of the door.
Scrooge watched him incredulously. "Never thought I cared-!?" he scoffed in disbelief. "You of all people should know how much I care about him! It was YOU after all that tried to sabotage my whole life's work by turnin' the world against us with the media! By lime lighting what was supposed to be a private relationship! Instead yeh get us hounded by newscasters and reporters alike tryin' t'make our relationship out t'be a scam of some sort!"
"I thought it WAS a scam! He's forty-some years younger than us, Scroogey! How was I supposed t'know any of it was real!?" argued Glomgold, pausing only briefly in his pacing before continuing again.
"So yer argument is that my relationship with Fenton came off as a scam simply because he's so much younger than me?" inquired Scrooge.
"And because he's male!" Glomgold blurted out. His eyes widened in shock; clearly having not planned to say that.
Unimpressed, Scrooge looked away and sighed. "So yeh didn't know I swung both ways, eh? And so yeh assumed it t'be fake? Assumed because I fawned after Goldie O'Glit for so many years and no one else it couldn't be true? Because it couldn't be possible fer ol' Scrooge McDuck, the world's richest duck-known t'be set in his ways and very traditional in most aspects of his life-to be a bisexual?" Glomgold cringed at that particular word which only soured Scrooge's mood further. "Go soak yer head, Flintheart! I've suffered enough of yeh t'last me a lifetime!"
Scrooge went to turn around but Glomgold wasn't having it. He gasped and acted on instinct. He jumped, his arms outstretched, towards Scrooge who was half turned away from him at this point. "NO!"
Scrooge cried out in alarm when Glomgold's arms wrapped around him and was stunned to find his rival now holding him tight. "Ach! What the devil-!?" He looked down, his arms trapped at his sides, to see Glomgold holding onto him as though it was for dear life. "Twist me tartan, Flintheart! Have yeh lost yer mind!? Get off me this instant!" During the scuffle, Scrooge dropped the small dagger which fell to the floor several feet away.
"No, I refuse!" was the distressing cry from Glomgold. "You have to forgive me! I took it too far and now I'm sorry! Just-Please understand why I did it! I can't stand the thought of you never trustin' me again!"
Taken aback by his behavior, Scrooge stumbled and nearly fell over but Glomgold was quick to catch him. "Ugh, you should have thought about that before yeh tried to murder my paramour!"
"Please!" Glomgold began to beg. His tone changed to something a bit more softer; more vulnerable. "Just let me-You'll see! You'll see we could be great!" Without warning, Glomgold slammed his beak straight into Scrooge's and held them in a bruising kiss.
Scrooge's eyes went wide. The feeling of Glomgold's lips against his own caught him off guard. Yet not for long. With a violent kick, Scrooge was able to break the kiss and catch Glomgold off guard to free himself from the other's grasp.
Stumbling yet managing to stay on his feet, Scrooge wiped furiously at his lips and gagged in response. "Ugh!" he coughed. "FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD! UGH! HOW DARE YOU!?" His voice echoed throughout the mansion in his fury and disgust.
Glomgold had stumbled back just like Scrooge but instead of looking at the other duck with disgust, the second richest duck was watching Scrooge carefully; hope shining in his eyes. "Please, Scroogey! I can be better! We could be so great together!"
"Have yeh seriously been harborin' these feelings fer me all these years!?"
Glomgold shook his head. "Not until more recently! Say, the last six or seven years..."
"Well too bad! Yeh cannae forget it!" snarled the old miser. "I am in love with Fenton Crackshell!"
Glomgold paused, his eyes wide in heartbreak and disbelief.
Having surprised himself by saying that out loud to his rival, Scrooge tried his best not to show it by placing his hands on his hips and standing taller and prouder.
"An' even if I wasn't-" Scrooge went on. "I wouldn't be interested! Yer a lyin', dirty, conniving, cheating scoundrel, Flintheart!"
Stomping his foot down in his rage, Glomgold balled his hands into fists and shouted, "NO! I refuse t'believe it! This is all Crackshell's fault! Had he not come in and meddled-I'd-I'd have eventually had you!"
Scrooge barked out a humorless laugh. "Ha! 'Had' me!? As though I was somethin' that could ever be OWNED! Ugh, just go away, Flintheart! Yer givin' me heartburn!"
"Not before you forgive me! Please!" pleaded Glomgold.
"Well, yeh can forget it, Glomgold! Keep your oil rig! I donnae want it this way!" he spat before turning on his heel and proceeding to walk away. "Yeh cannot buy my forgiveness! And yeh certainly won't get anywhere by forcin' yerself on me!" He leaned down and picked up the dagger that he'd dropped on the floor.
Glomgold was just standing there, his shoulders having fallen and his eyes filled with an exhausted look of defeat and sorrow. It was once again a testament to just how horrible he looked with his wrinkled clothing and shabby appearance.
Scrooge couldn't bring himself to care though. Perhaps at one time he would have worried over the state of his rival; a flare of comrade or sense of fellowship he occasionally felt for his fellow businessmen. Not now though. Certainly not for Flintheart Glomgold. Not after what he'd done.
He stopped and half turned to Glomgold. "Go away, Flintheart! Yer not welcome here! Frankly, yeh never have been! Forget sellin' me yer oil rig. As I said: I don't want it! Go crawl back under the rock yeh live under, yeh moronic marauder. And see to it to stay as far away from me and Fenton as possible or I'll make you regret it!" snarled Scrooge with an air of finality.
Just as Scrooge thought he was actually going to listen to him and leave, Glomgold asked in a small voice. "How-How is Crackshell?"
It happened so fast Glomgold didn't have a chance to react before it was already over. He had felt the rush of air whirl past his head and he heard the loud distinct thud of something sharp hitting the wall behind him next to the front door. Twirling around in his place, Glomgold gaped at the dagger that was now sticking out of the wall. He turned back to Scrooge with wide alarmed eyes. "That almost hit me!"
"AYE! That was my final warnin'!" growled Scrooge. "Don't you DARE ask after Fenton or ever even speak his name! Now get out before I DO hit yeh!"
Properly chastised and knowing full well he was only going to infuriate Scrooge further by staying, Glomgold slowly cowered over to the door. He opened it and just as he was about to walk out, he turned back and said, "I'm sorry, Scrooge..."
"OUT!" yelled McDuck vehemently.
Glomgold left without another word and a gentle click of the door shutting.
Breathing heavier than he realized, Scrooge stood there and allowed his anger to slowly dissipate. He didn't regret a single word he said. Yet now that Glomgold was gone, he couldn't help but wonder what his rival's next move was going to be. He supposed he would just have to wait and see.
"Scroogey?" called out a voice that brought a smile to the old miser's beak.
Looking up at the top of the staircase, Scrooge could see Fenton standing there in the borrowed pajamas from Duckworth.
Fenton sleepily rubbed at his eye. "What's all the commotion, Scroogey, my love?"
No longer wishing to so much as think about Flintheart Glomgold, Scrooge simply smiled as he met Fenton at the bottom of the stairs. "Nothin' important. How's about we get some breakfast, eh?"
At the mention of breakfast, Fenton perked up considerably, his eyes wide open and a large goofy grin on his face. "Oh! Okay! I can make you breakfast again this time! How about french toast!?"
Normally Scrooge would scoff and say it would take too much time, but with a glance at the old grandfather clock, Scrooge shrugged and decided to humor his paramour. "Aye, sure. That sounds lovely."
Scrooge followed Fenton to the kitchen, grateful for the distraction and hoping to forget Glomgold entirely as he spent time with his paramour.
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Author's Notes: Alright, so, this chapter ended up being so long, I cut it in half! I thought this was going to be the epilogue. It isn't. One more chapter which will be the real epilogue! I've nearly finished it so it shouldn't be much longer! Please let me know what you think with comments! They're lovely and they inspire me to keep writing! -EricaX