Prompt: I'd like it if you stayed.
Scott knew there was a storm scheduled in the forecasts. One would think with as many storms as he had been through in his lifetime, he would be used to them by now. But his fear had not abated as time progressed. If anything, it had only gotten worse.
He couldn't recall exactly when his anxiety over storms started. His mom said she never noticed it when he was a child, so he doubt he experienced it then. It had to have started in high school then. Whenever it started, Scott knew he didn't realize what exactly was going on until he started going on tour with Pentatonix.
Scott had tried a lot to help wane the anxiety that gripped his rib cage every time he heard the roll of thunder. He had purchased a weighted blanket, and while it did provide comfort and help him sleep on nights his insomnia rose its ugly head, it didn't quiet the noises or blind the lights. He had tried blaring music and closing his eyes when he was able, but eventually even the mere knowledge of a storm going on had the blonde extremely on edge. Scott worked out when he could, and the physical exhaustion quieted his mind but still didn't get rid of the anxiety completely.
His fear of storms was a disgusting parasite that wasn't lightening its tight grip on his head and heart anytime soon. That was how his significant other found him one evening. The Pentatonix crew had spent the day out and about, exploring the fairgrounds where they were set to perform later that evening. There were rumors that the show would be rained out, and soon enough, the rain began in the early evening. The gang hurriedly made their way back to the tour bus to avoid getting drenched.
It quickly went from a brisk rain to an all-out thunderstorm. Scott froze in place as soon as the first bolt of lightning and drum of thunder reached him. He sat heavily on one of the plush benches in the front of the bus, trying to angle himself so he only caught the barest glimpse of the storm out of his peripheral vision.
Mitch walked in from the back area and noticed how tense his boyfriend was. "Scott? What's wrong, honey?"
Scott bit his lip, forcing the tears back before he answered. His voice wavered. "The storm."
Mitch frowned and sat beside him. For a few moments, he simply stared at the blonde. His eyes traced the hard lines of tense shoulders, the pursed lips turning white. "Yeah, it's coming down pretty hard out there." He placed his hand on top of the blonde's and gripped it gently. "Do you want to talk about it? Maybe sharing what you're feeling will help. Or we can talk about something else entirely. Distraction works well for me."
Scott sighed. "What's there to discuss? I have anxiety. That's all there is to it."
His tone was short and cold. It cut into Mitch, made him feel like Scott was dismissing him. "I can also go, if you'd like." The words hurt him to say, but if that's what his best friend wanted, he would leave.
Scott turned to meet his eyes, a look of horror on his face. "No!" he nearly shouted. He hurriedly moved so he was half on top of Mitch, pinning the younger man's body to the sofa. "I'd like it if you stayed. Please. I don't want to be alone right now."
Mitch wrapped his free arm around Scott and pulled him close. "Hey, it'll be all right. Trust me. We will get through this, and then we can see about getting someone for you to talk to, someone experienced."
The idea was tossed around in Scott's head. He considered it. "I think that will help, but how will we manage it while on tour?"
Mitch pressed a kiss to Scott's temple. Scott slid off of Mitch and tucked the dark-haired man under his arm. He peppered his jaw with kisses, and for the first time in a while, the storm passed without a thought.
