-papercut- // (scomiche)

c h a p t e r 6

I'm sorry this is so short, I just wanted to update, next one will be longer I promise! You probably know me, I'm an angst writer, so this happiness isn't for long, but I wanted to write them like this too. I just really love the idea of a painter Scott and a cute, shy Mitch posing for him, both smitten with each other.

As always pleaseee let me know what you think through a comment, be it about the writing, the story, the characters,anything! Enjoy, ly!

p.s listen to Clairvoyant by The story so far  and All in my head by Tori Kelly. ;)

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Mitch smirked at their close proximity, an amused smile dancing on his lips. They were so close but not quite kissing, just staring at each other while the static noise of the vending machines buzzed behind them. 

The hesitation in Scott's eyes was obvious, however. 'What's the problem, then?' Mitch demands, softly, undulating a whisper between them. He stares hungrily as Scott bites his lips and looks down with a bashful expression. ' I'm afraid I'll hurt you. Hurt each other. And it'll be a terrible tragedy, if ..' He stops abruptly, enough time for Mitch to get closer just the tiniest bit, so nothing but an miniscule amount of space remains between their lips – Mitch wants to kiss the words out of him, but he also wants to hear them, so he questions further. 'If?'

Scott bites his lip again, in that god forsaken way that sends a shiver through the brunette, and speaks with worried eyes. ' If someday soon I end up kissing you goodbye, instead of kissing you goodnight."

Mitch gasps the tiniest bit, startled, but immediately he leans his head upwards, stopping before he reaches him, letting Scott decide. With no hesitation, Scott leans down to meet him; Mitch lets a small noise of content into their kiss, sending spikes of warmth to Scott's chest.

It never ceases to amaze him, how a kiss can send a hundred different types of signals to his body, how easily his favorite place in the entire world has become this, wherever he may be as long as Scott's arms are snaked around him. He has no idea how they've come to this, making out in front of a yogurt shop late at night, their mouths moving together like they've had years of practice. This time Scott is definitely the one taking charge, so he kisses Mitch properly and thoroughly, slowly but with so much want simultaneously, as a kiss is meant to be, until Mitch is nothing but melted and lenient in his arms, whimpering into his mouth, both of them breathless.

Mitch opens his eyes as they draw back and takes a moment to regain composure. The space between them doesn't grow large, however, and a beaming smile appears on his face. 'If that's how the goodbye kiss will be, I'm not sure I even mind.'

Scott lets out a little laugh and rolls his eyes at him, but can't help smiling his big his cheeks hurt. He walks a few steps forward and holds out his hand to Mitch. 'C'mon, let's go home.' The other boy happily complies and tangles their hands, sneaking little glances up at Scott as they walk to the car.

___

' This will end up terrible if you don't stop moving so much!'

' It's not my fault; it's this damn sun that shines directly into my eyes.'

Scott stopped with his brush mid air to laugh at how Mitch was struggling with keeping a neutral expression and squinting at the same time. He kept giggling as Mitch made a face at him and crossed his eyes, trying to annoy the blonde who was mixing colors on his palette. They had been there for an hour already and Mitch began growing more and more fidgety. He busied himself with staring at how beautiful Scott was when he was painting, all serious, furrowed brows and pensive eyes, adorably holding brushes between his teeth as he stepped back, from time to time, let out a long sigh and nodded. Mitch had no idea what it meant, but he found it endearing all the same.

Despite his nagging, Mitch knew this ridiculous posing made Scott happy, so he complied easily.

It had been only a week until the kiss at the yogurt shop, and although on surface nothing changed between the, the air surrounding their relationship had a quality that confirmed that everything had changed. Their dynamic was different, less guarded, more straightforward. They stopped pretending they didn't want to be around each other's company all the time, stopped shying away from touching one another.

Mitch could snake his arms around the blonde's torso whenever he painted, startling him; he never argued, just sinked into the touch and continued painting while Mitch leeched off his body warmth, listening to Scott's quiet humming. Their evenings would be spent driving aimlessly, music blasting off while Mitch sang his heart out in the passenger seat. He'd get to stand on his tippy toes and kiss Scott's nose as a thank you for driving him somewhere, get to hold his hand walking around the campus just because it made him feel safe and guarded.

Once Scott stopped them in the middle of the sidewalk and pulled him in and kissed him until Mitch was left seeing stars, while the blonde carried on walking like it was nothing. When questioned, he simply shrugged and quipped that ' I just had to. ' – So, it was pretty safe to say that things had changed. While it was exhilarating and it made him saner and lighter than he had been in years , Mitch was slightly concerned – one, they had yet to define their relationship. It was certainly not a platonic friendship anymore, but they weren't exactly and item. Two, Mitch found himself thinking constantly about him. Like he was a missing piece that fit right into the empty space in his heart.

That left him breathless with fear. Because he knew, hell, everyone knew how easily he could fall. Even more so, how easily he could break, and although this felt different, unlike any other emotion that has coated his chest, it only made it that much scarier. All these thoughts darkened his face like clouds traveling on the horizon, stilled with silence as Scott carried on painting.

He paused eventually, and Mitch was knocked back into reality by a soft voice. ' Where'd you wander off to? Come back to me.' And this sound, so melodious and earnest , made a small smile bloom on his face in the direction of where Scott called him worriedly. 'There's something bugging you. Tell me.'

He rested his brush on a flat surface and walked over to where Mitch was sitting on an old bar stool. Despite the height of it, Scott was still taller, so he draped his arms on the sides of the chair and brushed his fingers slightly in Mitch's bangs. 'Please', he demanded, quietly.

Mitch looked up and with a huff, he avoided looking directly at the boy in a proximity so close to him it made him breathe heavier. 'I'm about to act extremely cliché and ask: What exactly are we? Because if this is us being just friends well.. I don't exactly have any other friends like this, you know.' He gestures between them and Scott laugh and shrugs, which does absolutely nothing to ease Mitch's mind. ' I'm pretty certain how I feel about you is nothing similar to just friendship. But we can be whatever you want us to.' The worry doesn't wash away, until Scott cups his face softly with cold hands, even though the points where their skin meet are warmer to Mitch than the sun itself, and he speaks again.

'I don't want to pressure you into anything. For now we can just be.. dating? Going out, I guess?'

Mitch nods, a pliant grin on his lips, and presses a short kiss to Scott's mouth, raising himself slightly and then scurrying Scott off to 'finish this damn painting, because I can't feel my butt anymore.'

______

The next morning, after he's slept over and finds himself stumbling into Scott's bathroom to brush his teeth, Mitch remains paralyzed in front of the mirror, where a sticky note with Scott's handwriting is stuck  ' I think I may be, possibly, probably falling in love with you.' 

Finished with a lot of both exclamation and question marks.

Mitch wants a piece of his heart to always live in this exact moment, in the exact feeling these few words are making him feel. But at the same time, he feels completely, utterly terrified.