Time After Time

Always Stay

Scott sat, curled up on the couch, the only light in the room coming from the television that quietly babbled nonsense that he didn't care for. Asleep on the couch beside him was a small dark haired man that he could barely tear his eyes away from. He felt so lucky to be able to spend time with his best friend again, even if Mitch was asleep. Scott smiled slightly as he watched the rise and fall of the other man’s chest, and tenderly moved the blanket that was draped over Mitch, making sure that the other man's small body was fully covered. The light from the screen illuminated the countertenor’s features, and the blonde found himself drawn to the other man’s face – his gentle eyelashes, his rough stubble and his soft lips. The taller man had always told Mitch that he had the face of a model.

The brunette stirred, but remained asleep, and Scott found his own eyelids growing heavier as each second passed. He was relieved to have Mitch home again, and was still surprised that the younger man hadn't pushed him away earlier. They hadn't discussed the notebook, and Scott didn't really mind whether such a conversation took place – he just needed reassurance that the countertenor would be okay. Reflecting back over the previous few hours – most of which was spent holding his best friend – the blonde skimmed his eyes over Mitch’s face once again. It appeared to show less pain and less frustration, which helped to calm the older man's nerves. Scott slowly dozed off, drifting away into a slumber with a small smile on his lips.

When the morning crept in, Scott’s eyelids fluttered open and he stretched, his body aching from the uncomfortable position in which he had slept. He could hear Mitch snoring softly, and he couldn't help but grin. He hadn't imagined the previous night – nor was it a dream. He really had spent time with his friend. Standing up and rubbing his eyes, the baritone decided that he should probably go and fetch some coffee. Still half-asleep, he pulled on a snapback to cover his mess of blonde hair and pushed his feet roughly into the first pair of shoes he could find before racing out of the door to Starbucks. He really wanted to have the coffee back for Mitch before he woke up.

When Scott arrived back at the apartment around fifteen minutes later with two cups of coffee and one gluten-free pastry for his friend, he was relieved to see that the brunette was still asleep. Dumping the items in the kitchen, Scott then knelt down in front of the countertenor and whispered softly to him.

“Mitchie, it’s morning,” the countertenor stirred after a minute or so, and then opened his brown eyes slightly.

“Scott?” he murmured groggily.

“I bought you coffee; it’s in the kitchen,” the taller man said, smiling despite the fear that had begun to grow in his stomach. He couldn't cope with being pushed away again.

“I’m sorry,” Scott’s smile turned into a perplexed frown.

“Why? Mitch, you've done nothing wrong.”

“You’re hurting, though,” Mitch said simply, and Scott found himself unable to speak. He felt as though his voice had been torn from his throat. He opened his mouth, but was unable to form any words. He felt his bottom lip begin to quiver, and lowered his gaze to the floor. He could hear shuffling from above him – the brunette had shifted into a seated position, crossing his legs underneath his own body. The next thing Scott knew, a hand was on his shoulder, which startled the older man. He found himself involuntarily glancing upwards to check for the source of the contact, even though he knew that it was Mitch. Scott’s teary blue eyes met Mitch’s apologetic brown pair and the blonde instantly dropped his gaze back to his knees. He heard the shorter man take a deep breath. “I’m really sorry that I've been hurting you, Scott. I don’t really know what to say – or what I can say, but I don’t want to hurt you. I thought that if I left you alone, maybe you’d f-forget me,” Mitch broke down in tears, but forced himself to continue, “and then you’d l-leave so that I couldn't hurt you. C-can you forgive me?” Scott raised his gaze from his blue jeans and stood up without saying a word before bending down to hug the countertenor.

“I’ll never leave you, okay?” he managed to say, pulling the brunette close to him.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” Mitch blubbered, wrapping his arms tightly around the blonde.

“I don’t want you to hurting anymore,” Scott whispered in response, rubbing the smaller man’s back as he sobbed, “I’m going to keep you safe this time.” As they cried over one another once again, Scott was almost certain he heard a phrase fall quietly from Mitch’s lips - a phrase that he wasn't supposed to hear.