Love Bites (Scomiche One-Shots)

Ball Drop

Scott clenched his jaw in frustration as some frat boy stumbled into him, making him collide into a small group of dancing  girls so that he had to drop his half full sprite can to the ground in order to catch her in his arms. He apologized profusely to the poor, drunken girl and her friends and tried sopping up the spill with a few stray napkins before giving up and retiring to the kitchen.

Scott's stomach revolted at the stench of spilled alcohol and the greasy pizza residue on nearly every surface, but he leaned against the counter to watch the festivities from where nobody could elbow him in the stomach or scream along to the music in his already aching ears. He groaned in disgust watching some painfully straight boys in Hawaiian shirts start a bread-stick eating competition, knowing these boys were too stupid to think of how poorly it would mix with the liquor they'd been chugging and that they'd be bent over the toilet until they were well into twenty eighteen. Nearby, a group of girls were helping their nearly blacked-out friend spread out on a couch before resuming their horrendous, off-tune screeching and flinging around to whatever music was playing in the background without looking back. Scott knew he was only a senior and he'd been in exactly one of these kids shoes about three years ago, but the thought alone made him cringe.There were many, many reasons Scott never went to frat parties anymore, and here he was face-to-face with literally all of them. The more he thought about it, the more he wished he was anywhere else at this moment.

Scott finally pulled his judgmental gaze from the group of girls that had abandoned their poor friend when he heard a loud, high pitched squeal followed by his name. As he looked for the source of the voice- a little bothered by the tone and what it could mean in this environment- he realized that some of the kids in the crowd were chanting numbers, a few of them beginning to crowd around the TV. Scott's head was tense with the panic of Mitch's scream melting into the loud counting, and he stood frozen with frenzy until he saw the tall, skinny brunette untangle himself from the stampede of dancing boys and girls, his bare arm and dangly, festive earrings a blur as he hurried towards him and gleefully shouted numbers at the absolute top of his lungs.

By the time he was in Scott's arms, he'd taken a break from screaming and had slumped against the blond's chest, panting and still somehow bouncing up and down with excitement. "Look, look!" Mitch reached up and physically maneuvered Scott's head so that he had no choice but to look at the TV that everyone was huddled around. "SEVENTEEN! Look, Scott, the ball drop!"

"Yeah! I see that." Mitch was right, the TV was showing the ball drop live from Times Square. He couldn't believe he didn't identify the chanting earlier and now that he'd figured out what it was, his own excitement sparked a little. He squeezed Mitch against his chest. "You scared me, screaming my name like that! I though someone was bothering y-"

"THIRTEEN!!! Shut up, Scott, we have to get ready! Oh god, oh wait..." Mitch squeezed himself out of Scott's arms and struggled up onto the marble counter, sitting down exactly on the wet spot that Scott had avoided  when leaning his elbows on it earlier. He started  counting along with the crowd again, more quietly this time, and pulled Scott in close by his shirt until he could cup the blond's face in his hands. He peered down at him with his face flushed and pupils dilated and finally fell silent when there were five seconds left, making Scott chuckle. Mitch grinned back sweetly, a little confused, and pressed their foreheads together.

As corny as it had always sounded to him, Scott really did feel as if time stopped when he heard the countdown end and felt Mitch's lips press against his. The brunette didn't seem satisfied with the first peck, so he went in for another, Scott letting him kiss as he pleased. Mitch let his hands fall from Scott's face to his shoulders, holding himself steady as he kissed him tenderly, the way he usually only did when they were alone together. Scott felt Mitch's eyelashes flutter against his skin and tasted alcohol on his mouth, chasing his lips when Mitch finally pulled away after kissing himself breathless.