Scomiche OneShots

Choir Room

                   

Being the school's golden boy had it's perks.

Mitch scoffed as Scott wiggled the classroom master key arrogantly before unlocking the choir room door. As they entered the dark, eerily empty space, Scott didn't waste anytime turning to kiss Mitch until he couldn't stand without his support. He eased him onto a piano bench, conveniently placing him at eye level with his crotch. Scott hummed in approval, and ran a hand through Mitch's wavy hair.

"Hmm... I like this angle, baby."

Mitch loved it just as much. Scott was wearing those Adidas soccer pants that outlined every curve of his lower half. Nothing was left to the imagination. He was so glad that they made plans to come up here during the game. He needed this.

Just then, his phone, sitting on the piano, rings a high pitched notification sound. Scott's interest is piqued and he picks it up, but Mitch snatches it out of his hand before Scott could type in his passcode.

Alex: "u here yet? need to see u baby boy"

Before he can roll his eyes and press the power button, the phone is back in Scott's hands. Mitch can see the gears turning in his mind as he reads the text. "Kirk...you been talking to him?" He asked with a squinted, disapproving glare. Mitch flinched at his almost parental tone of voice.

"No, he's been trying to talk to me and..." He trails off, not wanting to admit Alex's true intentions, but Scott, of course, presses the issue.

"And...?"

"He was asking me for nudes... And other shit... But I told him no."

Scott turns away from him, massaging the bridge of his nose in between his thumb and index finger. "You don't believe me," Mitch stated solemnly. Scott chuckles and shakes his head slightly. "You still like him," he replied.

Mitch's mouth jarred in offense. "I do NOT. I can't believe you would accuse me of that! I'm not the one with the whole women's tennis team trying to get a sniff of my singlet, Mr. Athlete of the Year! If anyone has the right to be jealous, to be paranoid, it's me."

"Mitchy, you know I don't want any of them. It's just... you and him have whatever history. If I give you some ultimatum, I'll push you away. That's not what I want, Angel. Like I said before, I wanna give you options."

Mitch wondered how Scott could think so little of his devotion to him. Why would he want anyone else when he had Scott to take care of him, to love him, and to fuck his brains out from time to time?

"I don't want options and I don't want anyone else!!" Mitch whines childishly. "Will you let me prove it to you? Please, Daddy?"

He backed Scott into the desk chair and sunk down to his knees in between his legs. He was eager, but also wanted to be good and ask for permission first. When Scott nodded reluctantly, Mitch tugged his sweatpants and underwear down to his ankles. He marvelled at just how big Scott looked in comparison to his slim hands, before taking him into his mouth. Mitch was good at this, and he knew it would make Scott believe him. He glanced up at the blond through his lashes, only to realize that Scott wasn't even looking at him. His lids were tightly shut and brow furrowed as he moaned and writhed. Mitch slid a hand up Scott's torso to refocus his love's attention. In this headspace, he craved those blue eyes on him. Scott looked directly into Mitch's glossy eyes and whispered a soft, "Come up here, baby. Turn around for me." Oh god, yes sir.

Mitch took Scott out of his mouth with an obsene slurp and did just as he requested. Slipping into his lap, Mitch could feel Scott's hands roaming everywhere, prepping him generously and marking his neck, until finally, his love's crown was pressing against his slick bud. Guiding his waist with one hand, Scott's thumb pressed hard against the small of his back, The other hand grabbed a fistful of his thin hair and sharply pulled. Mitch squealed as his face was forced to point to the ceiling, but the sound was only partially fueled by pain. The rate of his bright, treble pants and Scott's heavy, baritone breathing increased as he picked up momentum. If not for the varsity game taking place below, he wouldn't be surprised if the whole school could hear them. Mitch's focus was directed back to Scott as he whispered once again. This time, more fiercely.

"Is Daddy making you feel good?" he asked. His voice is gravely and Mitch moans breathlessly in return, "Mmmm, so good."

Then, along with another tug to the wad of hair in his fist, he continued, "And can anyone else make Daddy's Baby feel like this?"

Louder this time, he groaned out, "Nooo... Just Daddy, Only Daddy." Scott knew exactly what he needed. The dominance, the control, the ownership. He was everywhere and everything. Moments like these were the reason Mitch could never call him a mere boyfriend. He was just... more.

"And you're gonna stop talking to other boys after Daddy tells you not to?" His voice was slightly strained but still more composed than the boy on his lap. He managed to force out a shaky "Yeaaah," and his voice bounced uncontrollably from his thrusts. "Anything you want, Daddy. I promise!" Mitch had to use every ounce of self control to keep from screaming. Instead he just whimpered and moaned in rhythm with Scott's thrusts until he reached around to grip his cock almost painfully. With a soft cry of Scott's name, he tipped over the edge.
--
Mitch POV
"There we go," Scott mumbled as he reached his own high, "Oh God, Mitchy... You're such a good boy. All mine." I felt warm all over from his claim inside of me and blushed at his praise. I was a good boy. His good boy.

I managed to lean against a nearby wall when he tapped my thigh and asked me to hop up. I watched him as he stood effortlessly to tuck his cock back into his boxers and readjust his sweatpants. He noticed me eyeing him and leaned down to kiss my forehead. "I love you, honey," he whispered and my heart sang. He fixed my probably horrendous looking bangs, then dragged both hands down my back to grope my sore ass. I responded with a half annoyed "Daddyyyy". His only response was another breathtaking kiss to my lips, before leading us back downstairs.

I held one of his hands in both of mine as we crept through the empty hallways. I could tell that I was being a clingy mess, but I wasn't embarrassed about it enough to pull away. He was looking around corners, trying to make sure we wouldn't get caught, but my eyes stayed trained on his profile; the sharpness of his jaw, the glint of his blond eyelashes...

Outside the store, he checked the window to see who's in there. With a quiet scoff, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. I briefly wondered why he reacted that way to whatever he saw, but frankly, I was too well fucked to care.

Oh.

"Hey, Alex."

--
A/N
This has a part 2.