Surprise! I actually wrote two fics last night and just didn't post this one. I didn't want to end KINKtober on an emo note. I might or might not post infrequent oneshots this month, only time will tell; I'm attempting NaNoWriMo, so most of my writing will be going toward that. Anyway, on to this short bit emo nonsense. I warned you.
Scott throws himself onto the chair, half on top of Mitch and half sprawled over the cushy armrest. He regrets it when Mitch jerks away from him, squirming to get free. Scott rearranges himself quickly so he's perched on the armrest and just leaning on Mitch's shoulder instead.
"Still feeling bad?" he asks quietly. He rests his chin on the top of Mitch's head, looks down at Mitch's phone screen. He's got Spotify pulled up, because apparently the hours they spent creating the perfect party playlist were meaningless.
"I'm okay," Mitch answers.
"You've been sitting in the corner for like an hour."
"I'm playing music."
He's a little warm to the touch, Scott realizes. He doesn't think he's too tipsy to misjudge body temperature. He pulls back, puts some space between their bodies. "Do you have a fever?" He lays a hand against Mitch's forehead.
Mitch only tolerates it for a half-second before batting his hand away. "I'm fine," he insists. "Just don't feel like partying."
"It's not October anymore. You want a drink?" Scott offers, but of course Mitch doesn't want a drink. He's been fighting a stomach bug for days; he's trying to be healthy before their big TV appearance. Unlike Scott.
"I'm fine," Mitch says again, sighing heavily. "Go away."
"I don't want to." He can tell Mitch wants to be antisocial right now, and normally he'd leave Mitch alone, but Scott is tipsy—or maybe actually drunk—and feeling clingy. He wraps his arm around Mitch's shoulders. "Mitchy, come party with me. The music will play itself. That's what playlists are for. Don't sit in the corner and leave me alone."
"You're not alone."
"You're alone, though."
Mitch shakes him off and stands up, leaving a void in the chair that Scott falls sideways into. "I'm gonna go back to the hotel and go to bed."
Scott blinks up at him, stunned. "Mitch—"
"I'm fine," Mitch says yet again. "Just tired. I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun partying."
Mitch turns and walks away without another word, and Scott scrambles to extricate himself from the chair and hurry after him.
"Mitch, wait—"
He finally catches up at the front door, where Mitch is untangling his coat from someone else's.
"I'm just tired," Mitch says, and he does sound tired. Maybe just tired of Scott, though, if the annoyance in his voice is any clue.
"No, Mitch, don't leave. Mitch. Come on. I'm sorry I'm so drunk right now. Just don't leave."
"I don't care that you're drunk."
"Please don't leave."
Mitch laughs softly. "Babe, I'm just going back to the hotel. I'll see you tomorrow. That's like... a few hours. It's okay. There's a ton of people here for you to party with. I think you'll survive without me."
Scott isn't so sure, but he nods his acceptance and waits for Mitch to put on his coat. "I want to kiss you," he says.
"You shouldn't."
They haven't kissed in days, and it's killing Scott. "I probably already have whatever you've got anyway."
Rolling his eyes, Mitch says, "Well, just in case, let's not tempt fate."
Just as Mitch turns to leave, Scott catches him in his arms and pulls him into a hug. Mitch doesn't fight him, but he doesn't return the hug either. Scott kisses his cheek. Then he kisses Mitch's cheek again, but softer. "You look beautiful tonight, baby," he murmurs.
That brings a real smile to Mitch's face, just a brief flash and then it's gone again. Mitch pulls away from him, goes out onto the front porch to wave goodbye. There's a car already waiting at the curb. "Happy Halloween," he says.
It's inexplicably heart-wrenching to watch Mitch walk away from him. Scott's alcohol-addled brain gives the moment a sense of finality it doesn't deserve. He'll see Mitch in a few hours. They can spend one night apart. It's okay. He knows it's okay. Scott longs for him anyway.
It's just that Scott can feel when Mitch is close to him like a warm buzz over his whole body, prickling his skin, even when Mitch is in a different room. When they're apart he feels stretched thin, on edge and jittery. This level of codependence is probably not healthy, but Scott can't imagine their relationship any other way.
He sighs, already feeling the ache of Mitch's absence. Alcohol helps.
It's time to get extremely drunk.
fin.
