Close My Eyes and Feel The Crash

this fic has been in the works for a very long time, and i am so excited for everyone to finally be able to read it! it is an AU, it's partially a high school au fic but also a friends with benefits au and scott and mitch are Very Rich. inspired by the music video or "colors" by halsey. warnings include: shitty (lowkey abusive?) parents, some emotional abuse, homophobia mentions, one homophobic slur, smoking, drinking, and smut. but don't worry, as angsty as this sounds it's also very fluffy and it ends very happily ^_^   

hmu on tumblr -  kirstinstaylors - if you wanna talk about it with me!!

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Mitch's bottom lip is caught between his teeth as he concentrates on his sketchbook, the granite of his pencil staining the side of his hand completely but it's worth it because his new dress sketch is positively stunning. He can't help but smile a little; it's always nice when one of his visions comes to life. Or at least when he can put it on paper.

He jumps, startled, when he suddenly feels something cover his shoulder and he looks up to see Scott standing before him. "Hey, you," the blond says with a smile. His Letterman jacket lays on Mitch's shoulders, as it does more often than it lays on Scott's.

"Is it time to leave?" Mitch asks him, closing his sketchbook. "I'm starving."

"Tell me about it, so am I," Scott says, fishing into his pocket for his car keys. He jingles them before Mitch's head, as if he were a cat, and he says, "Come on, your highness, your chariot awaits."

"Ha, ha," Mitch says dryly. He stuffs his sketchbook into his backpack and he follows Scott off of the bleachers and towards the parking lot, where Mr. Hoying's jaguar (unbeknownst to Mr. Hoying) is waiting. "So," Mitch says as Scott opens his door for him and he gets inside the car. "Where can we go so we don't have to go home yet?"

"We can grab dinner," Scott says. "Or at least go to Taco Bell. I've been thinking about chalupas all day."

Mitch rolls his eyes. "Of course you have been," he teases. "Alright, Taco Bell it is."

"If I pay, can we go to your house instead?" Scott asks, backing out of his spot and then driving out of the school parking lot. He runs over an orange cone in the process, probably part of the reason why his dad never lets him drive his jag. And why Scott always drives it anyway.

"Do we have to?" Mitch groans. "Mike it working on a new case, so he's had his panties in a twist for days. And Nel is redecorating, so the house reeks of paint and Ikea," he explains, referring to his parents. "I'd rather watch your football practice for another three hours than go home."

"Well I don't want to go back to my house," Scott tells him. "Dad's going to lose his shit when he finds out I took the jag without asking - again. And the fucking Kaplans are coming over so my mom's probably all bent out of shape trying to make the house look immaculate. And the last thing I need is four obnoxious snobs asking me about football scholarships and university and," he stops himself, groaning in disgust at just the idea of that happening. Mitch can sympathize; his parents are the exact same way, hounding him about what ivy league he'll be applying to just so theycan have something to brag about. It's disgusting and frustrating, especially since Mitch has to hoard and hide college applications for fashion and design schools in places where his parents will never find them.

"Won't Avi and Esther be there?" Mitch asks, referring to the Kaplan's two children, who are - thankfully - nothing at all like their parents.

"Not if they're smart," Scott sighs.

"Alright, alright, fine," Mitch says. "So where are we going to go then? We can't just hide out at Taco Bell for five hours."

"Not if we order five hours' worth of chalupas," Scott points out, and Mitch just rolls his eyes, not even dignifying that with a response.