Scomiche One Shots

Hypersensitive Sensory Processing Disorder

Scott had always known something was wrong with him. He got freaked out by loud noises, if he wasn't expecting them, the lights around him really hurt his eyes - especially on stage - making him dizzy and drained, his hair being brushed, his clothes tags, his hands being wet or sticky, wool, thunderstorms - both the sounds and lights, thereof - even, sometimes, the textures and feelings of the things around him - walls, clothes and even food - just made him feel bad, and had done for a very long time.

So he'd been researching and, after speaking to a fan from the UK when he was still on tour, he found out he might have sensory processing disorder. This means that he finds it hard to interact with the world around him, the world he'd created of fame and fortune - and everything that goes with it - and his senses (sight, touch, etc) are delayed or signals to and from the brain are misled, or slowed down. This can be quite dangerous, and he didn't know how to deal with it, he couldn't tell anyone, could he?

Scott finished reading an article about SPD and decided to write what he'd learnt about the disorder. Of course, he knew he had to be tested by a neurologist or a psychiatrist of something, but he was sure he had it. He was sat on the couch when he was reading and writing but when he heard a sound outside, he immediately dropped his work before racing upstairs, not realising it was only Mitch struggling to carry his bags.

Crash! Came from outside sending Scott sprinting to his room, worried about what it was and the sound hurting his ears. He pulled out noise cancelling headphones and placed them on his head before snuggling down into his comforter, not realising the tears he had spreading down his face.

Mitch watched his best friend run upstairs the second he came back, having opened the door after dropping a bag to the floor. He raised an eyebrow, worried about his blonde - the blonde had been secluded and recluses from him for days now and he didn't know what was wrong - but brought his bags in and placed them down. He went to see what Scott was doing and saw his paper filled about SPD?

He read it and sighed, he knew that Scott had most of these symptoms but some were highlighted that he didn't know about, such as the lights from stage and cameras triggering him or the one about hands. He went to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of water out of the fridge before closing it quietly and grabbing a glass, just in case Scott didn't like the textures of the bottle.

He made his way quietly upstairs before gently opening Scott's door, the sight of his best friend hiding away and crying breaking his heart. Scott noticed his frame in the door before holding his hands out to his best friend. Mitch gently placed the items in his hands down on Scott's bedside table before pulling his phone out and silencing it, doing the same with Scott's phone he gently took off the bed.

He knelt on the floor, not wanting to touch his best friend and set him off, or anything, and waited for him to calm enough to take the head phones off, which happened quicker than he would have thought. "Hey, Scotty," his whispered, not wanting to restrain his ears.

"Mitchy," Scott whimpered holding his hands back out to him before moving over the bed, wanting the brunette in with him.

"Can I come in?" Mitch asked softly, not wanting to push him into talking but wanting to double check it was alright, and if it was he'd make sure not to touch him. It could be worse for his health, so Scott can make all the decisions.

Scott pulled the blanket back before reaching a hand and softly pulling him before speaking up, barely, "come cuddle, please?" He asked, a little pathetically but Mitch loved it, Scott was so adorably cute it made his heart burst. Mitch gently pulled his shoes off before going to Scott's closet and changing from a woolly jumper into one of Scott's, knowing the texture could activate a panic attack in Scott, before stripping from his jeans and going back to Scott.

He'd done all of this as quietly as he could, not wanting to harm Scott, that's something he never wanted to do. He slipped into the sheets, making sure not to touch Scott, if the blonde wanted contact he can give it first, as much or as little as he wanted. Scott gently laid Mitch down before crawling in between his legs and resting on his stomach. Mitch kept his hands by his sides, not wanting Scott to feel trapped but the blonde just whined. "Mitchy, cuddle me, please?" He asked again.

"How tight, baby?" Mitch asked gently putting his arms around Scott, tightening slightly until Scott whimpered again, showing that was enough - quite a tight grip but it made the blonde feel safe there, so Mitch wouldn't mind the cramps his arms would feel later. "Did I scare you earlier, dropping one of my bags?" Mitch whispered as he held his blonde best friend.

Scott nodded onto Mitch's chest, his eyes watering as he remembered what he'd gone through a few minutes before. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, or go through your things, but I think you have SPD, too, you have the symptoms, some which I didn't know about but you know what symptoms you have," Mitch spoke gently as he made shapes on Scott's back with his fingers.

"It's okay, Mitchy. I'm not scared of you, you're one of the only people I can stand touching without me initiating it, you're one of the only people I trust with a lot of myself, others are things I've thought as I've read one documented these past few days. Thank you for being so considerate of me," Scott spoke, nuzzling down into his best friends chest, his own arms wrapping tighter around his best friend.

"Oh, Scotty, of course, it's barely enough to be any where near considered what you deserve, but you're welcome. If you need he,p with anything, I'll help. I can explain to the band for you, if you'd like. Just tell me what things you don't like, textures and things, and I'll help change things for you, help make you more comfortable. Maybe, you'll learn to trust them as much as you trust me, at least enough to not be scared of them when they're working or something," Mitch suggested, his voice coming to a normal talking tone but not too loud.

"Thank you, Mitchy, it means a lot that you care so much about me. I love you so much," Scott spoke gently before adding, "you don't mind sleeping like this, do you? You're so comfy and I'm really tired," he asked softly as his eyes closed.

Mitch moved a hand to Scott's hair and rand through it, his arms still clenching around Scott and the other hand still drawing shapes on him. "Of course, baby, I'm always here for you. Am I alright to stay here?" Mitch asked gently, just to double check.

"Yes, baby," Scott almost whispered, sleep pulling him in, safe in the comfort of his best friend.

"If you need me to leave you or anything, let me know," Mitch told Scott before the blonde weighed down slightly more as he dropped into a peaceful sleep. Mitch kissed the top of Scott's head before closing his eyes and letting himself drift into the realms of unconsciousness, happy his best friend was safe and happy with him.