sing | scömìche

move

Scott collapsed almost immediately, weak from blood loss. He stayed there on the ground for a few moments, clutching his earnings like his life depended on it. His breathing was shallow, nonexistent, almost, his world swimming before his eyes. Get home to Mitch. Get home to Mitch. Scott repeated those four words in his head, the mantra keeping him alive. With great effort, he managed to stand.

Slowly, he made his way back home, having to pause every few moments to get the world to stop spinning. When he finally did arrive, he didn't even have the strength to open the door, so he knocked weakly and hoped Mitch could hear. Mitch had been crying on the couch when he heard, and immediately he scrambled up and threw the door open, hugging Scott tightly. However, that elicited a groan of pain, so he immediately loosened his grip. "I'm so sorry, Scott, I was watching but I didn't do anything to stop him and he st-stabbed you and I'm so sorry..." Mitch sobbed into Scott's chest, clinging to him as tightly as he dared.

Scott's heartbeat immediately picked up and he clutched his earnings tighter. Mitch had been watching? Yep. What did I tell you? He only wants you to get into your pants. I bet he wishes you were underneath him instead of that man. Mitch whimpered when Scott didn't say anything and looked up at him with shining eyes. "Please don't be mad at me, I can't lose you, Scotty..." Scott just moved inside and quickly put the money away, hurrying to the couch before he could collapse. Mitch quickly laid down next to him, hiding his face in his neck. "Do you just want me for sex?" Scott whimpered pathetically, and Mitch immediately shook his head, moving closer. "Of course not, Scotty. I just wondered why you came back so bloody yesterday," he whispered, nuzzling his face deeper in Scott's neck. The blond relaxed, ignoring the voice telling him otherwise. He didn't want to believe it.

Scott closed his eyes and buried his face in Mitch's hair, weakly wrapping his arms around him. "Scotty, you can't go back. I refuse to let you do this to yourself anymore," Mitch whispered, but Scott squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head slightly. "We need the money, Mitchy."

"But he could've killed you! You can get another job."

"No, I can't. Believe me, I tried. No one wants a sl*t," Scott whispered brokenly.

"Then we'll move. We'll get out of here. You can't keep doing this."

"We can't afford anything else, baby. We barely have enough to pay the bills."

"I'll work harder. I'll... I'll get another job. Please, Scott," Mitch said, panic creeping into his voice. Scott sighed and held Mitch closer, ignoring the pain. "That's not fair." Mitch whimpered and curled up in his arms. "What's not fair?" Scott closed his eyes, biting his lip. "I can't say no to you."

"So can we move? Please..."

"As soon as we can."