Twitter ficlets

Paris bound

Mitch finally convinces Scott to go to Paris Fashion Week with him. (And maybe they happen upon the taker of the 💗 pic)

One sharply arched brow stops Scott's fidgeting instantly.

"Sorry," Scott whispers, uncrossing and re-crossing his legs the other way. His face is blank, bored beyond all patience, and Mitch can't really blame him. This show is the fifth they've seen this week and it's not holding Mitch's attention either; he's seen maybe one piece he wants and a whole bunch he'll enjoy ridiculing in private with Austin later.

He smiles, momentarily amused at what he imagines Austin's commentary would be, and then takes a calming breath as his seat starts jiggling again. Halfway to his internal count of 10, Scott stills, his attention caught by the model in his direct line of sight. Oh. Well now. Isn't that interesting. Looks like at least one of them will be making a purchase after all.

----

Scott's fidgeting again, but not through boredom this time. It's not physical discomfort either, Mitch is almost certain; the buttery soft leather fits Scott like a proverbial glove. He places a hand between Scott's bare shoulder blades, "Colour?" he asks.

"Green," Scott says, the slightest tremor in his voice giving away his nerves.

"Scott, If you don't like the picture, we delete it, okay, you know that," Austin speaks quietly, head raised from the camera to make eye contact with Scott, "just relax, focus on Mitch and ignore me."

Scott nods, twists his head round to see Mitch, "He's going to need more than one 'lil sticker this time," he jokes.

Damn right. If Mitch has his way, most of these are going to be unpublishable.