Push.

18. You Don't Know Me, Well I Can't Change

Author's Note: Guyssss I don't have another fic started for after this one is over. If it stays that way, that's the first time I won't be updating daily since OCTOBER. AM I OKAY?  

If any of you have ideas regarding anything you'd like to see me write, feel free to let me know.

18. You Don't Know Me, Well I Can't Change

Despite several attempts to convince Scott that he was okay, there was a knock on his apartment door just after dinnertime.

He heard a hushed conversation from the living room, and he strained to hear the voices.

His heart sank when he heard Rozzi. He had been hoping for-

A knock on his bedroom door startled him out of the thought.

"Come in," Mitch called, softly, from his place sprawled out on the bed with his phone in hand.

He heard the clinking of glass before anything else. When he turned to look, Scott was smiling at him with two glasses and a bottle of wine. He couldn't help but laugh.

"The best medicine," Scott offered, placing the glasses on the nightstand and getting to work with opening the bottle.

"You know me so well," Mitch said, trying to cover up his own fondness.

"I try," Scott replied, pouring the two glasses before handing him one. He then kicked off his shoes and crawled on the bed, sitting cross-legged and facing the smaller man.

"Go ahead," Mitch urged. Scott looked at him with confusion. "Ask me about it. I'm sorry if I scared you by calling."

Scott shrugged. "Do you want to talk about it? I mean, technically it's none of my business." The blond sipped his wine as Mitch tried to wrap his head around how any part of his brain could be unsure of this man.

Mitch stared at his glass.

"It's not gonna drink itself, Mitch," Scott laughed, but Mitch could tell that he was suddenly nervous as he watched the smaller man deep in thought.

"Is this wine even real?" Mitch asked, suddenly. "Are you?"

Before Scott could answer, Mitch leaned forward, placing his face in the crook of his neck. He inhaled. Vanilla and cedar.

He sat back and began to drink. "Nevermind."

"I think I figured it out," Scott started to say, slowly.

"Figured what out?"

"Your deal."

"My...deal?"

"Yep. You're a vampire."

Mitch's eyes snapped upwards, to lock with the pretty pools of baby blue. They were sparkling with happiness, and Mitch couldn't help but smile.

"You nailed it."

Scott nodded. "Yep. That's why you like my neck so much. You're just waiting to bite me."

Mitch couldn't help the laughter that escaped him, and he took another sip of wine. "You're not wrong there, but wanting to bite you has nothing to do with being a vampire."

Scott blushed, downing the rest of his wine in one gulp. He reached across Mitch for the bottle, and Mitch inhaled again, allowing the faint scent to ground him.

"I'd like to tell you about it, you know. At least I think I would."

Scott topped off Mitch's glass, and remained politely silent.