Endgame (Scömìche)

7. Tease

*Awooga* mild smut and fluff ahead.

"So... how long are we going to be trapped on this bus?", says Mitch, slumping forward onto the table and resting his head down into his folded arms.

Esther, sat opposite him, looks up from her phone and pulls a face. "Do you actually want to know?"

"No, but tell me anyway," he sighs, his voice muffled against the table.

"About 10 hours."

Mitch groans and peers up at her, resting the point of his chin on one wrist.

"Look, at least we can just fall straight into the hotel once we arrive in Barcelona," she offers. Mitch looks unimpressed. 

Esther clears her throat and leans forward, across the table, speaking quietly into Mitch's left ear, "Do, um, do you two still want a room each?" she questions.

Mitch huffs, sitting back up and shakes his head as he smiles shyly, "We can make do with one, I think."

"Well, it'll save you the effort of racing me through the hotel first thing in the morning." She giggles, playfully, meeting his eyes.

"Oh God, you're never going to let that go are you?!" Mitch cringes, putting both hands over his face, thinking back to their ridiculous charade in Paris, weeks ago.

"Nope!" she says, enjoying his discomfort. "I have to ask though, were you, like, under Scott's bed or in the wardrobe or something?"

He peeks through his fingers. "Not quite that bad. I was hiding in the bathroom."

"Ha!" She laughs, going back to her phone, tapping rapidly with both thumbs. "Okay, just the one room for you lovebirds then... done!"

"Lovebirds?", says Scott arching one brow as he lands roughly into the seat next to Mitch. He exchanges glance with Esther and her eyes crinkle as she smiles at him. "Right, I need to find out why we're not moving yet," she says, shuffling out of the seats before making her way down the aisle, out towards the driver.

"What was that about?"

"Oh, Es was just being a conscientious tour Mom and cancelling one of our rooms." He gives a lopsided smile, nodding his head sideways towards Scott as he mumbles out of the corner of his mouth, "not like we're gonna need it!"

"Oh, yeah," says Scott, glancing around quickly to see if anyone is looking directly at them. Satisfied that they're being sufficiently ignored, he leans over and places his hand around the back of Mitch's neck, drawing him into a soft kiss. He pulls back, looking at Mitch's face, at his long dark lashes and full pink lips, before placing the most gentle of kisses on the end of his nose. "You are so beautiful," Scott whispers.

"Yeah?" says Mitch, smiling broadly, "Tell me more; I love compliments."

Scott grins wide and opens his mouth to speak but hesitates as Kirstie plants herself in the seat opposite, beaming at the pair of them.

"What?!" says Mitch in mock exasperation.

"Nothin', just looking at you two." She says, grinning at them. "You are so sickeningly gorgeous together I think I can almost forgive you for ditching me the other night with a "migraine". She makes finger quotes either side of head.

Mitch looks mortified. "Oh god, Kirst. You have no idea how bad I felt about that. No, seriously..." he stalls, searching for words.

Kirstie laughs. "Oh, relax, Es told me she kinda set it up." She laughs again. "I'm just honestly so happy that you two numbskulls finally figured it all out. Really."