Psychotic (boyxboy)

Chapter Thirteen

a/n: y'all should comment more *hint hint*

As soon as they stepped outside the apartment, Scott tensed and looked around with nervous eyes. Unfortunately, it wasn't busy at the moment so no one was around to recognize the tiny psychopath standing next to him. Scott deflated and squeaked when Mitch latched onto his hand. 

"Let's go." Mitch briefly glanced up at Scott, their eyes meeting through the sunglasses. His mouth twitched upwards in a smile and he turned away, beginning to walk. "Now, where should we go first?" A slim finger tapped the brunet's lip and he hummed quietly. "Shopping and then some lunch." He grinned sloppily. 

Scott eyed him nervously, hyper-aware of the bruises and cuts scattered over his body. He tugged the sleeve of his shirt down further and bit his lip. "That sounds fine." He muttered, looking down. "Where are we going shopping?" He added eventually.

Mitch giggled. "I was thinking that we could visit that one store on the counter." Scott tensed up.

"...Why?" He asked suspiciously. 

"I was thinking we could give your friend a little visit." He purred and suddenly yanked Scott closer. "We are a happy couple when we see him, do you hear me?" Mitch hissed, his face tilted up to meet Scott's eyes. Scott shivered and nodded quietly. 

"Yeah, of course." Scott mumbled, his heart sinking when he realized Alex would get the wrong idea. He sighed. Why was he even thinking about a relationship anymore. He wasn't going to be dating for the rest of his life, he thought sadly. 

Mitch made a noise oddly resembling a purr and nodded. "Good, good." He intertwined their fingers together and continued walking, his gait having a slight bounce to it. Scott squinted at him, but followed obediently. "Oh yes," Mitch threw a bored glance back at the tall blond. "You got in a fight and that's why you have those bruises."

Scott furrowed his brow; if anyone knew him, they would know he wasn't a fighter. He brightened slightly. Maybe Alex would realize something was wrong and pull him aside to ask about it. Then he could tell him to call the police. Completely foolproof. 

If only Mitch wasn't an idiot. 

Scott was right about Alex freaking out when he saw him. 

"Scott Richard Hoying, what the fuck is this?" Alex demanded, grabbing a hold of his wrist and observing the massive bruise on his forehead. Scott flamed and ducked his head. 

"I, uh, got in a fight." He glanced over at Mitch who was eyeing them with contempt. Scott's insides clenched at the look and he averted his gaze quickly, knowing Mitch was bound to hurt him later. 

Alex pursed his lips and shook his head. "And what was this fight about?" He asked dryly, his face pinched with worry. 

Scott just shrugged. "It was a, uh, bar fight." He rubbed the back of his neck. Alex's eyes widened in shock. 

"You drink?" 

Scott stiffened slightly, then realized this was how he wanted this to go. As many unbelievable lies as possible. "Y-yeah. I do..."

Alex frowned suspiciously. "Can I talk to you?" He asked slowly. Scott brightened and nodded rapidly. 

"Yeah, of course!" 

"Unfortunately, we have somewhere to be in a few minutes, don't we, babe?" Mitch's voice brought him down from his small high quickly, his tone chilling Scott to his core. Alex's eyes darted to the new voice and his eyes widened in shock.