Scömíche Fluff One Shots

Stressed

Scott stormed into the house after a long, exhausting day at the studio. He was muttering a string of curse words under his breath as he came in through the front door, closing it with his foot and tossing his keys on the entryway table. Mitch immediately rushed in from the kitchen, concerned.

"Babe, what's wrong?" he asked, gently laying a hand on Scott's shoulder.

"Nothing, everything's just fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Mitch. I'm fine! Nothing's wrong with me!" Scott snapped, shrugging Mitch's hand off his shoulder and storming upstairs to the bedroom. Mitch just stood there, stunned and confused. Had he done something that made Scott upset? He didn't remember doing anything. He flinched as he heard the bedroom door slam shut.

He sat down on the couch and thought about everything he could have possibly done. He stayed downstairs for a couple hours, cooking dinner, thinking, and trying not to cry. Scott didn't even come down when he called him to come eat, which Mitch found really strange. He was now sitting on the couch with the TV on, but he had too much on his mind at the moment to pay attention.

After a while, he stood up, heading upstairs to go try to talk to his boyfriend.

"Scott, are you okay, babe?"

No answer. That's weird, he almost always answers me, he thought. Once he reached the bedroom, he carefully opened the door and poked his head in.

"Scott?" he said softly, frowning at Scott's current state.

Scott was sitting at their desk hunched over with his elbows on his knees and one hand combing through his hair. There were papers scattered all across the desk, and, upon closer inspection, Mitch realized they were lyric sheets. As he edged closer and made his presence more noticeable, Scott's head snapped up to look at him. Mitch's frown deepened when he saw the look on Scott's face. He didn't say anything, but his blue eyes looked tired and stressed. Mitch decided to try and talk to him.

"Scott, what's wrong, love?" he asked gently, laying a hand on Scott's shoulder and softly squeezing it.

"I'm sorry I snapped earlier, sweetheart. It's just that I've been under a lot of stress and pressure lately because I need to get these songs done so we can record and arrange them before we leave for tour soon and I can't seem to find any ideas for lyrics. I've been working on these songs for months now, and I'm just trying to find the right lyrics. I just can't because nothing comes to my mind." He was on the verge of tears.

"Baby....," Mitch replied sympathetically, taking Scott into his arms and gently guiding his head into his chest to lay his own head on top of it. Scott wrapped his arms around Mitch's waist in an attempt to reciprocate the hug.

They stayed like that for a while, Mitch whispering reassurance to Scott and gently massaging the back of his neck. He then pulled back and looked down at Scott, who looked back up at him, still distressed.

"How long have you been working on the songs, just tonight alone?"

"Um, for like, the past 2 hours."

"Is that why you didn't come down to eat dinner?"

Scott nodded. "I lost track of time."

Mitch nodded. "Okay, how about this? Why don't you call it a night and go have some dinner? I cooked pasta, by the way, and then we can maybe have a bath and get ready for bed. I can give you a back rub if you want, and then we can cuddle until we fall asleep."

Scott nodded again. "That sounds amazing."

Mitch gently took Scott's hand and helped him up. Once Scott was up, he reached his arms up, stretching out his back.