A/N: so this one is definitely longer than the others that I've written so far. Most of them will probably be shorter than this.
Mitch's eyes go unfocused as he scrubs the bowl in the sink. His mind is somewhere else, and his hands are working almost of their own accord. The running water and suds distract him enough to not notice when Scott walks in the room.
"Oh no. What's wrong?"
Mitch sighs, "What?"
"You're doing dishes. By hand. What's wrong?"
He feels himself deflate, unwilling to keep up the pretense. "Just another dumb date with another dumb boy."
He hears Scott jump and sit atop the counter behind him before answering, "Do you wanna talk about it?"
"No."
"Are you sure? I mean, I'm here if-"
"No Scott! I don't want to talk about a bad date with a boy that means nothing to me, okay?"
"Okay, okay. I hear you," Scott placates him as he furiously scrubs the dishes in front of him.
A few minutes later, Scott speaks again, "What are you thinking about?"
Anger bubbles up inside of Mitch, and he can't help the outburst that follows. "What am I thinking about? Well what am I always thinking about? You. I can never stop thinking about you." He emphasizes his words by brushing the sponge more harshly against the knife in his hand. "It's why I have bad dates and why I'm always- ouch! Dammit, fucking shit!!"
Immediately, Scott is behind him as he brings his finger up to examine it, watching the slow pooling of blood forming on the tip.
"Are you okay?" The whisper washing over his ear causes Mitch to shudder. "Here," Scott says quietly before reaching for his finger and holding it under the running water.
Mitch turns his head slightly, just a little in his direction, breathing him in. "Thanks."
A warm pair of lips is pressed to his temple before they're moving, the words causing his stomach to flip over.
"I was thinking about you too."
