Not Enough (Scömìche)

CH 6

A/N: I'M SORRY
_

Mitch feels the atmosphere change the moment he steps into Chad's house on Friday night. It's like everything happens in slow motion, the music is muffled, all eyes are on him, and on him only. He's wearing a leather jacket again, Saint Laurent, his favorite. He feels extra confident in it. He smells of cigarettes and alcohol, but it's fine, everyone at the party smells like it. He immediately finds Chad, the host of the party, who supplies him with a red paper cup and a pill. He sets the white drug on his tongue, letting it dissolve and set into his body, his blood, his system. He feels alive, vivid, full of energy. He's ready for the party to begin.

As if on cue, a cute boy walks by.

"Hey, cutie," Mitch shouts over the loud music blaring from the speakers. The bass is hammering in his chest, making the song barely recognizable anymore. "What's up?" He downs half of his alcohol.

"Hey." The boy pulls Mitch by his wrist, pulling him close to him, close enough for him to smell the cheap cologne he's wearing. He can also smell the sweat that the cologne fails to cover up. Disgusting. But still, the boy is hot.

They don't speak anymore, Mitch just lets himself go with the music, swinging with the beat, having Pretty Boy grind his very obvious hard-on against his ass. Mitch holds out his ass, even pushes backward against the guy to have him squirming and wanting more in a matter of seconds. It works, and Pretty Boy is moaning into Mitch's ear while he tries pressing kisses to his neck, gripping his waist so tightly that Mitch is getting turned on as well. He wants someone to sleep with, someone who would fill him up, give him what he wants and piss off again. He doesn't need people who stay. People who stay also mean responsibility and he's not that type of person. The moment the boy bites Mitch's earlobe Mitch groans, turns around and captures the boy's lips in a very needy kiss. He runs his tongue on his bottom lip and is soon granted access, giving him one of the most sloppy kisses of his entire life. Nevertheless, he still finds himself gripping Pretty Boy's hand and dragging him upstairs into one of the guest rooms.

He might've had one too many. His vision is blurry, he can only see a vague outline of the boy's face but he is pretty, he has brown hair and a scruff, just like he loves it. He's giggling, watching the man bend down and kiss his neck needily. It tickles, he's very sensitive.

He realizes he's naked. When did that happen? Still, it doesn't bother him at all, he is an exhibitionist, someone who likes to show off their body.

He feels something big slowly glide into him, he doesn't realize what it is, nor does he care, the only thing on his mind is how good it feels and how it makes him moan. He's being very vocal, gripping the boy's hair, tugging and pulling, rocking his hips in the same pace as he's being fucked with. He feels a hand on his dick, squeezing, stroking, pressing, until he can feel his lower abdomen tighten and before he knows it he spills everywhere, on their stomachs, the boy's hand, the sheets. The boy thrusts a few more times until he too reaches his climax, filling Mitch up completely and pulling out again.

***

Mitch wakes up with the worst headache in history and a boy right next to him. He panics, fuck. He's naked. Does that mean- yeah, probably. He probably had sex with a stranger. Said stranger is naked too, if what he feels against his leg is anything to go by. If so, said stranger isn't only naked but also horny.

Shit. Mitch moves. Extremely horny. The precum is now smeared on his leg. God, who is that and why on earth did he decide to fuck him?

Oh. God. The realization dawns on Mitch, a little late but better late than never. He slept with a boy. He had sex with a boy. Not that that's never happened before, but still... He's supposed to try and be straight, for god's sake! But of course, whatever kind of juice and vodka mix he had yesterday, it had made him lose control over his own damn mind. Drunken actions are sober thoughts? Mitch decides not to think of that saying.

He scrambles up from the bed and heads into the bathroom, not bothering to find something to wear because first of all, he has no idea where he or the stranger boy threw his clothes last night, and second, he isn't going to look for anything in that hungover state he's in, his head pounding like crazy, making him feel like literal death.

He finds his way to the bathroom mirror, actually he wants to take a shower but got curious to check his appearance on the way. He observes himself, scanning every inch of his skin and finding a lot of dark purple bruises, especially in his neck area but also lower on his stomach and his hips. He looks down at himself to see it with his own eyes, noticing the hickeys are also all over his thighs.

Fuck. If anyone finds out, what is he supposed to say?

He gets into the shower but hurries, not in the mood to take any longer than about five minutes of just rinsing his hair with water, hopefully cleaning the main filth from his body. He can still take a proper shower or even a bath at his house, now that was just to get fresh and help him wake up a bit.

Painkillers. They have to be somewhere...

He rummages through the cupboards until he finally finds a box with tiny white pills. On the box it says Tylenol, so he takes them, hoping it is actual medicine instead of drugs.

He then leaves the bathroom, a towel loosely hanging from his hips, ready to fall any second. But Mitch doesn't worry, if he got a penny for every time someone sees him naked he'd be a millionaire probably.

"Mitch," the boy says groggily. He grips the white fluffy pillow and hides his head in it. "Ugh. Painkillers?"

"Uh, bathroom." Mitch just answers, making the - yes, he admits it - handsome boy look up confused but stand up in a matter of seconds. And holy shit, wow, that boy still hasn't calmed down from his, ehem, problem. He's hard, the tip flushed red and spilling precum, but he shows no shame in walking to the bathroom fully naked, having Mitch watch his every step.

As soon as the bathroom door is closed and Mitch isn't granted another peek of that gorgeous body he makes his way downstairs to see if maybe someone else stayed the night and if so, if they're awake. He finds none other than Chad on the couch, skipping through some tv channels before he notices Mitch and turns the TV off completely. He puts a hand to his temple, massaging it. Mitch guesses he had a similarly rough night.

"I noticed Jonathan didn't go home last night, and last time I saw him was with you," he starts, looking at Mitch. It takes Mitch a while to comprehend, but soon he knows exactly Chad is super close to finding out that he's bi. "Do you know where he is by any chance?"

Act quickly! Tell him the truth or lie and say you don't know? But Jonathan, whoever that is, is most likely going to spill the tea so you better think.

"I- I think I saw him-"

"Mitch..." Chad stands up from the couch, walking towards his friend. "I know you two... I just wanted it to be you to tell me."

"How do you know?"

"I heard you." He shrugs. "The party was over and you guys were still... on it. Mitch..." He looks him deep in the eyes, his dark blue ones against Mitch's brown ones. "Are you gay?"

Mitch can't look him in the eye. His gaze shifts, lingering on the floor now.

"I- I'm- No."

"Mitchy..." He carefully puts his hand on his friend's shoulder in comfort. "You can tell me. I promise I won't tell anyone."

Mitch almost starts crying. Almost. That'd be a first in front of any of his friends. But he doesn't do emotions, so he swallows it down and keeps a straight face.

"I'm not gay," he says. "I was drunk and I didn't know what I was doing."

Chad just nods, although Mitch can see in his eyes that he's not buying it at all. Still, he hopes he forgets about it as soon as possible and everyone can go ahead and continue living their life peacefully.

"So you guys had sex?"

"Do we have to talk about it?!" Mitch snaps, he doesn't want to think about his mistakes anymore. He doesn't want to know how much his friends would hate his real self, how much they would despise him for being with another man like that.

"Alright, fine." Chad holds his hands up in surrender. "I promise I won't tell anyone if you don't want that."

"Yeah..." Mitch says, almost whispers it. "Please don't."