Hold My Heart (Scomiche AU)

8: Dance

 Mitch was bored. He hated to admit that he'd allowed Scott to become such a big part of his life, but the blonde had been gone for three days to Chicago for a conference, and Mitch found himself at a complete loss for what to do without his favorite neighbor around to keep him company, sitting on the ground beside him and preparing lectures or grading homework while Mitch worked on everything that he could without actually going to his studio, as had been their routine for the past week following the party at Esther and Candice's. Scott was supposed to return on Monday--it was a 5-day conference--but it was only Saturday and Mitch wasn't sure what to do except throw himself into his work.

With nothing else to occupy him, he found himself going into the studio on Saturday morning for the first time in weeks, and he suddenly remembered why he loved his job so much. He often lost himself in a isolated routine of staying at home and working in the nights, but being in the studio brought him an inexplicable feeling he hadn't even realized he missed. The feeling of real equipment--not just the keys of his laptop--under his fingers was liberating, and the new artists he was finally working with in person were refreshing. Mitch liked that his job allowed him to work from home a lot of the time if he really wanted to--he was only really required to go in when things got busy with upcoming releases or the introduction of new artists--but the incredible feeling of losing himself in a world of music, surrounded by others who were just as passionate about it, was one that he knew would draw him back to the studio much more frequently in the future, near and far.

With his renewed enthusiasm for actually going into the studio for work--and the resultant overhaul of his nocturnal routine in favor of being awake during more regular human hours--Mitch kept himself busier than he'd been in a while. He liked to think it was because he was finally getting his life together, but he knew (even if he'd never admit it) that part of it was just to distract him from the absence of his favorite blonde. He spent all day on Saturday through Monday at the studio, returning to his apartment exhausted from a full day of work to eat and then collapse on his bed until his alarm went off the next morning.

His newfound routine, however, was broken on just the fourth day--Tuesday--when he returned from the studio at 3 PM, three hours earlier than usual. Scott was supposed to come over at 6:00 to listen to the set list for the wedding before the two of them headed out to dinner with Kirstie, Jeremy, and Kevin. Mitch knew three hours was a bit overkill, but he was not going to allow himself to be late for his plans with Scott in his own apartment.

He picked up some food (the only thing his long hours at the studio had thrown off track was his diet--he ate random snacks at odd times) and stopped at the grocery store to finally pick up the items on his ever-growing grocery list, returning to his apartment at almost exactly 4 PM. He spent the next forty-five minutes putting away groceries and tidying up his apartment just enough to make it presentable for company. With an hour and fifteen minutes to spare, Mitch threw himself lazily onto his couch, laptop in hand, and returned to the world of the Netflix show he'd most recently begun to binge.

The knock on his door came exactly four minutes and thirty-six seconds after 6:00, when Mitch was just about to play what would be his fourth episode in one sitting. With a start, he closed his laptop, jumping up from the couch and hurrying to open the door to a very welcome sight: Scott, dressed in skinny jeans that made his legs look ridiculously long and a shirt that somehow made his eyes look even bluer than usual, with one cup of coffee in each hand and a wide grin on his face.

"Mitchy!" he exclaimed happily as soon as the door swung open. "I missed you."

Mitch couldn't have stopped the blush that flew across his cheeks, nor the ridiculous smile that his lips formed, if he tried. "Missed you too, Scotty," he said, accepting the hug that Scott offered once he had pulled off his shoes and put the coffees down. "How was Chicago?"