One-Shots

Maybe I waited too long

The running away was over. He was just a defeated shell, waiting the information to crash upon him like it did when he was in high school; when he realized that he was inexplicably and irrevocably in love with Scott and he had panicked because he knew that this was just a casual hookup and nothing else.

And had promptly broken up with him.

He never understood why Scott never spoke to him for a month, though. (I was in love with you, you idiot, Scott would tell him years later. He hadn't understood why the word 'was' struck him so much)

Then there was last week.

They were writing song lyrics for Pentatonix, and Scott was talking away animatedly, and Mitch was staring at him, trying to concentrate on what he was saying, and failing miserably. He was staring at the way Scott's eyes lit up every time he smiled, the dimples on his gorgeous face appearing. He wasn't listening to what he was saying any longer, and he didn't care at this point, as long as he could look at that face for a little longer.

He was the singular ball of sunshine in Mitch's life, and Mitch adored him for it.

(He didn't notice the way the other band members' gazes slipped between them, and the way they all exchanged fond and knowing glances at each other, unwilling to ruin the moment by saying something.)

That moment had changed something in him, he didn't know what.

He just knew that he finally realized that he had fallen in love with Scott, again. (Well, not exactly, he supposed. You had to fall out of love first, and Mitch didn't think he ever did.)

After a week of panicking, thinking that he doesn't feel the same way, that he can't be feeling the same way, so he shouldn't be in love with Scott and put himself up for more heartbreak, he realized that that was what happened in high school, and he wanted to have a more functional and mature life, thanks.

So he accepted it. Grudgingly. In the sense that he came to accept that he could never, ever fall out of love again (again, if he ever did) because these feelings were too intense, and unless he wanted to distance himself from Scott (Which was unthinkable; they knew each other better than they knew themselves, and this thing, this close bond between them, Mitch would honestly rather die than go through that gristly separation again.), he would have to tell Scott his real feelings.

It was a privilege to love somebody like Scott, someone who shone bright like a diamond, whose personality was blinding, whose presence made Mitch feel safe, calm and most of all, loved.

He didn't want to tell him, but Scott always knew when he was keeping a secret, and he didn't push for it at all, just looked at him with those hurt, blue eyes, which eventually coaxed the secret out of him.

Mitch realized, with a distant horror, that this was what married couples must feel like.

He was in so fucking deep.

Scott decided to walk up to him right at that moment, a concerned expression on his face. This was excusable, since Mitch had been staring at a questionable item of food on the floor for what amounted to ten minutes.

'Babe,' Scott asked. 'You okay?'

'Stephanie.' Mitch took a deep breath. 'We need to talk.'

A/n: I was thinking of a part two, but do you think I need to write one or leave it as a cliffhanger? 

And, honestly? This fic just burst out of me when I was listening to Friends by Ed Sheeran. Then I decided to write a fanfic even though this was in the middle of exam week in my country. *shrugs* I can't keep my ideas repressed.
I was also feeling pretty bored, so.
This was based on the coffee table book, but I haven't read it for myself yet, so I might get some things wrong, and I couldn't get rid of the spoilers either. *glances pointedly at all of you.*