Mitch doesn't see much of Scott's home but he is impressed by the size of it. It'a a big house for a college student to be living in, but Mitch assumes he has roommates.
He follows Scott into the kitchen and the smells hit him al at once.
"I made us brownies. I didn't know what kind of food you like but everybody enjoys chocolate and so-"
"That's sweet of you. Thank you."
"I see you have wine!" Scott smiles, grabbing two wine glasses from the cupboard and two small plates for the brownies. He sets them gently on the counter before rummaging through one of the cabinet drawers, pulling out a corkscrew. He grabs for the wine, opening it and pouring a hefty amount into both of the glasses. Mitch smiles, thinks if it was Scott's intent to get him drunk, he isn't being very subtle about it.
Scott hands him a glass, sipping on his own and smiling.
"Thank you," Mitch mumbled, gripping the stem of the glass tightly.
"Would you like a brownie?"
"Yes, please."
Scott cuts into them, setting one on each plate. He hands on off to Mitch, grabs his own.
"I have a movie set up in the living room, if you're cool with that." He starts heading out of the kitchen, Mitch follows. "Now listen, don't judge me for my movie taste. If you don't like it, we can always watch something else."
Mitch watches Scott, follows him as he walks around the couch, sits down, placing his glass and plate on the table. Mitch lets his eyes drift to the television, a smile breaking out on his face.
"I love this movie!" Mitch mumbles excitedly.
"Oh my god, really?"
"Yes, of course. Who doesn't love The Spongebob Movie?"
"You just keep getting better and better," Scott says wistfully. Mitch feels his face prickle with heat, attempts to cover it with a sip of wine but it's useless, he feels it travel down his neck.
They sit in comfortable silence, the movie entertaining them rather than awkward conversation. Mitch is thankful for movies, lessens the pressure to communicate which he isn't exactly the best at. He's glad Scott isn't the kind of person who talks through movies.
It's more than halfway, Spongebob and Patrick have become men thanks to Mindy, and Mitch feels Scott shift on the couch. He's closer now, their thighs touching, and Mitch feels the heat furiously bloom in his cheeks. He thinks he has never blushed so much before, Scott being the only one who can make him feel this way.
He wants to run, get far away from Scott and the things he makes Mitch feel but he's stuck here.
The proximity, despite how minimal it is, has Mitch on edge and it's amplified when Scott reaches forward for his wine glass, his fingers accidentally - or is it really accidental - brushing against Mitch's leg. He hopes Scott doesn't notice his sudden intake of breath, hopes he doesn't see the way his shoulders tense.
"Are you okay?" He asks, concern etched on his face. Mitch feels trapped, completely trapped and he has to use every ounce of energy to prevent himself from completely losing it just like he has in the cafe.
He nods, thankful that Scott doesn't try to push for a more solid answer. He turns his attention back to the movie, letting Mitch take a deep slow breath. His senses are still hyper aware of Scott's leg pressed firmly against his, his knee still tingling where Scott's fingers had pressed - lightly, but noticeably.
He focuses his attention back on the movie, hopes it will help distract him from the man sitting so close.
-
The movie ends faster than Mitch had expected, despite having had seen if more time than he could count. Scott stands almost immediately after it's done, removing it from the DVD player and returning it to its case. He smiles softly at Mitch when he catches his eye and heat takes over his cheeks. He looks down at his lap, fiddled with the hem of his shirt.
When he looks back up, let's his eyes settle on Scott's face, Scott is biting at his lip, forehead creased as he thinks.
Mitch doesn't say anything, soaks in the uncomfortable silence. He grabs and sips at his nearly empty glass of wine. He's a bit surprised to see the bottle empty, doesn't recall drinking more than the one glass, assumes Scott had drank most of it.
"You don't want to be here," Scott sighs. He runs a hand through his silky hair, his eyes staring at the empty bottle of wine. "I'm sorry, you don't have to stay. I just - I'm sorry. It's obvious you're uncomfortable and I don't want you to be uncomfortable."
Mitch's brow furrows, "what?"
"You aren't having fun - you were tense for basically half of the movie."
"I-I'm sorry," he whispers. His cheeks are heating up, the shame swallowing him. He had hoped he wasn't being bothersome, didn't want Scott to feel as if this was his fault. He had done everything he could, everything right. Mitch was broken. "I-" he falters, his voice threatening to crack. The guilt is clutching at his throat now, and he bites his lip harshly.
"It's okay," Scott says, moving closer.
"No," he reaches up, lets his hands run over his face. "This was nice - I promise. I just," he takes a deep breath. He isn't sure how to explain that he's so incapable of functioning properly. He doesn't want to burden Scott.
Scott is concerned now, he can't tell. He moves to sit next to him, angles his body toward Mitch so that he can see him completely. Mitch risks a glance at him, his cheeks reddened. Despite his current state, he cannot deny the beauty of the man sitting next to him.
"Mitch?" he says, his voice is soft and sweet and for a moment, Mitch feels himself calm, feels the tension leave his shoulders for a second.
"Scott," he breathes shakily. "This was great, I promise. I-I really enjoyed myself." He lowers his hands, watches as the shakily find their way to his knees.
"Really?" he asks quietly, and Mitch glances to him, notices how small he's become, hates that he's forced this doubt into him. Mitch nods, smiles subtly when Scott seems to perk up, his eyes gleaming. "Can," he pauses, bites at his lip. "Can I hug you? If you say no, I totally-"
"Yes."
He smiles brightly as Mitch angles his body on the couch, faces him. He's nervous, of course, isn't sure how he will react to such closeness and intimacy with Scott considering he had nearly burst into flames when only their legs had touched. But he wants to know - wants to know what will occur now if he can evoke such strong feelings with small touches.
His arms stretch, his body leans forward and Mitch almost jolts when he feels hands wrap around his back. He's pulled forward into Scott's chest, his arms reaching up to settle on his firm back. He sighs contentedly, his burning cheeks pressed against Scott's chest as his chest bursts, feels as if flames are going at it.
He knows now that Scott can start a fire in him, and he would gladly let him.
