Scomiche One-Shots

Wrapping

"I don't know why we always wait until the last second to do this."

"It's a tradition, baby! We've done this every year since birth."

"Traditional procrastination. We're the worst." Scott laughed and shifted his weight sideways to set a kiss to Mitch's cheek.

"I like spending Christmas Eve this way. It's fun to sit here for hours and enjoy the music and the hot chocolate and being with you." Mitch's lips curled into a small smile while he taped down the corner of a piece of wrapping paper.

"We could still sit together on Christmas Eve, Scotty. Maybe next year we don't have to add wrapping a thousand Christmas presents last minute to our agenda though." The brunet cursed under his breath when he realized that he didn't cut a big enough square of wrapping paper for one of his boxes. "I'm so bad at this. I'm sorry all your presents always look like they get wrapped by a three year old."

"I like the way they look. I like that I can always tell they're from you. I like that you take the time to do it by hand instead of having someone else do it for you. It reminds me you care." The tenor grinned and set his shoulder into Scott's side.

"You always get so cheesy around Christmas."

"I'm always cheesy. It's a talent, baby."

"Pretty lame talent if you ask me...."

"Hey!" Mitch laughed and looked up into blue eyes.

"What? It's not my fault." The blond smirked and tossed his half wrapped box to the side.

"Come here, Mitchy. I have a secret to tell you." The look in Scott's eyes had Mitch attempting to jump to his feet. The brunet didn't even have his footing under him before strong arms were tugging him back down to the floor.

"Please don't! Please don't! Please don't!" The blond grinned and repositioned himself so he was hovering over the Mitch's body.

"Don't what? All I want to do it kiss you..."

"That's a LIE!" There was a slight hesitation before Scott's fingers were relentlessly tickling Mitch's sides.

"You're right. It's a lie. Take it back, Mitchy! Say my talent isn't lame!"

"It's not lame! It's not lame! SCOTT!" The baritone stilled his motions before leaning down to press his lips to Mitch's. He was taken by surprise when the brunet turned his head sideways and his lips landed on his cheek instead. "No way, Hoying. You don't get to assault me and then kiss me. That is not how this works!"

"But it's Christmas Eve! You can't withhold kisses from me on Christmas Eve. It's illegal. Also, it's Grassi-Hoying to you, Michelle." Mitch rolled his eyes and looked back up to his blond.

"Fine. You can have one kiss." Mitch found himself laughing at how similarly the conversation resembled someone telling a toddler how many cookies they could have before bed.

The tenor felt his eyes flutter shut when Scott's lips molded against his own. He had expected the kiss to be short and sweet, but the blond seemed to be taking the "one kiss" rule into consideration and drawing it out as long as possible.

It only took a moment for Mitch to find the perfect rhythm Scott was looking for and follow it. He loved kissing his husband. He'd always loved kissing him, even when they were awkward teenagers and didn't have any idea what they were doing. There's always been something about Scott that was perfect for Mitch.

When the kiss finally broke, Scott locked his eyes to the brown ones below him and couldn't seem to pull them away. Even after countless years of dating and marriage, he was still hypnotized by how Mitch looked at him. He didn't notice the difference between how he looked at him and how he looked at others until they were in senior year of high school.