Study Session

Inspired by the tumblr astrology post that said...

Leo: I'm twitter famous I shouldn't have to take this test let's do karaoke!!!

Virgo: *Highlighting every passage in the book* SHUT THE FUCK UP LEO

Scott loves Mitch. He really does. He adores Mitch. He admires Mitch. He likes being around Mitch. He likes living with Mitch.

But he also wants to strangle Mitch.

Mitch has a beautiful voice. Scott loves listening to him sing. He also wants to stuff a sock in Mitch's mouth so he'll shut up for, like, five minutes while Scott tries to get through a single page of his textbook.

The thing is, Mitch is still an underclassman. He skates by in his general requirement classes, and he has the added benefit of not caring much about how good his grades are. His parents care, for sure, but Mitch doesn't, and he's good enough at bullshitting to get by. Scott has the opposite problem: he cares too much. He knows this about himself, knows that his parents would be totally okay with him getting a B in a class every now and then, but it all just feels too important to him, especially now that he's in his junior year, learning subjects he actually needs to know in order to graduate. He has to do well. He has to get a good GPA. His future depends on it.

Mitch clatters around in the kitchen, just around the corner from the little study nook in their tiny apartment, belting at the top of his lungs some musical number that Scott doesn't know.

"Don't you have a test this week?" Scott shouts. He stares down at his book. The words don't make any sense, because all he can think about is Mitch dancing around the kitchen in his underwear.

"Probably," Mitch sings back. His vibrato is pretty impressive, more subtle now than it was when they were in high school.

No, Scott tells himself. Focus. On anything but Mitch.

"I think I'm gonna make tacos. Do you want some? Or maybe just nachos. I don't think we have any tortillas."

Scott groans and puts his head down. His nose fits perfectly into the deep crease of the textbook pages.

"Do you wanna get drunk tonight? The karaoke bar has a half-price happy hour."

"Mitch!" Scott whines. "I have to study. And so do you."

Mitch pokes his head around the corner, looking earnest and innocent. "We could get drunk here instead!" he says, like this solves Scott's problem. "I'll make tacos. No! Nachos."

He goes back to the kitchen and starts singing again. The same verse over and over—maybe something for his theater class, then.

"Do you want a drink? It'll help you study!"

Scott feels about two seconds from breaking down in tears. All afternoon, Mitch has been buzzing around, hyper and chatty and singing music Scott doesn't know, and Scott still has eighteen more pages to read because in four hours he's only managed to get through two. "Please shut up," he says into the crease of his book. "Please, for the love of god, shut the fuck up."

Normally, their lives mesh together seamlessly. They spend enough time apart during classes or extracurriculars that they don't get sick of each other, and they're similar enough that it feels natural to share a living space, a bathroom, a bed. They've known each other for so many years that by the time Mitch joined Scott in college, it was like two halves of one whole reuniting. Together they form one complete person.

It's because Scott knows Mitch so well that he doesn't snap and start yelling. He's damn close, though.

It's stress, he tells himself calmly, over and over again. Mitch is stressed. He's distracting himself. It's just stress.

"Mitch!" he cries. "C'mere."

He hears Mitch come into the room. "You okay, babe?"

"No."

Mitch's hand rests on Scott's back. "Aw, what's wrong?"

Scott sits up so fast he gets a head rush. It feels good to not breathe in the stale, book-scented air. "I need to study. I really, really need to study. I will fail my midterm if I don't know this material. I need to study."

"It's okay!" Mitch says. "You can do it. I believe in you."

"I can't do it if you're singing. I just can't. You have to know how distracting it is."

"Oh."

Scott hates the way Mitch's lips turn down in a slight, subtle frown. He rushes to reassure him. "You know I love you. I love listening to you, Mitchy, but that's the problem. I just start listening to you instead of paying attention to this stupid book, and I can't afford to do that right now."

"It's okay, I get it."

Now, the moment of truth: will Mitch face his fear of studying. "You have a midterm too," Scott tells him carefully. "You should study with me."

Mitch shrugs a few times while he's looking for words to respond. "I'll be fine. I know the stuff."

Scott takes Mitch's hand and clasps it between both of his own. "But you'll do better if you prepare. Come on, Mitchy, study with me. We'll get through it quick and then eat nachos and make out a little in front of the TV, how 'bout that?"

"I don't want to study right now," Mitch whines. "Let's do the nachos and kissing part first."

As tempting as that sounds, Scott forces himself to shake his head and stand firm. "No. We'll study first. Kissing is the reward. I promise."

It takes a few moments for Mitch to consider his options. He finally bites his lip and gives Scott a pleading look. "Study together?"

They're in different classes, but that doesn't matter as long as Mitch is quiet. Scott breathes a sigh of relief and nods. "Yes," he says. "Of course together."

fin.