PTX One Shots (Requests Please!) (Scomiche) (Kirstie/Avi)

I Like You (Scomiche) (Fluff)

Just a little something fluffy and cute requested by PTX_Pentaholic99 in a short request: A very drunk and sick Scott. So here it is!

Starting in February, I will no longer be accepting requests for one-shots because I'll be focusing on my full length stories, including a new story called Imprisoned - it's a Scomiche story and the prologue is up NOW so go please check it out! I'll be starting that on February 7th!

The sequel to This House Is Not a Home will be out this Tuesday!

I'll also be starting an original story, not fanfiction, sometime in the next few months. It'll be a horror book and if you're interested in reading please be on the look out for it coming soon :)

Please vote and comment <3 If you have any Scomiche/Kavi/PTX requests please message them to me. I don't write smut!! lol enjoyyy

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Scott desperately clung onto the car door as he climbed out of the uber cab. The driver turned to him and asked him if he was okay once again, and Scott just waved him on after shutting the door to dismiss him. The driver went off feeling a little worried about the tall blonde boy, but Scott would be okay – as soon as he found his bed inside.

He turned and stumbled his way into the apartment building, using the walls of the walkway to help him maintain his balance when he lost his footing. He made his way to the elevator and punched the up button accidentally, hurting his knuckles in response. He groaned and put his fist into his other hand to try and ease the pain. He was already feeling as if he was going to break down and cry and now the pain wasn’t helping.

The door opened after a minute and he was thankful there was no one else inside of there, even though it should have been expected to be empty at three in the morning. He stumbled in and turned only to fall backwards into the rail behind him. He winced in pain, but decided to let gravity take control and dropped onto his bottom. He stared up at the control board and crawled forward to hit his floor number before he fell back again. He stared up at the ceiling as it moved slowly up and he tried to think about what had happened earlier that night, but he had a hard time recalling anything.

Scott had nearly fallen asleep before the doors opened, revealing the long hallway that led to him and his best friend Mitch’s apartment. He grabbed the rail behind him and helped himself up – that’s when it hit him. He remembered why he had been drinking.

Mitch.

Scott started down the hall, keeping his arm out to keep him from falling against the painfully plain white walls around him. The last thing he wanted to do was wake up any of his crazy neighbors. They already hated the both of them so much for being so loud all the time.

After some time he finally found himself at his door and he tried the handle, but he was locked out. He patted his pants’ pockets, then his jacket’s, and then swore aloud. His keys were gone, and not just his keys, but his wallet too, and even better so was his phone.

“No…” Scott said and put his hands in his hair. Now he really felt like bawling his eyes out, but before he could do anything the door opened lightly at first and then fully. A shirtless Mitch looked at his best friend worriedly before putting his hand on Scott’s leather jacket clad arm.

“What’s wrong?” He asked him and Scott shook his head, desperately trying to keep the tears back as to not bother Mitch. “Are you drunk?”

Scott nodded and let his friend take his arm to lead him inside. He shut the door once they were in their kitchen and turned towards the taller boy. He looked sadly up into Scott’s eyes, his arms crossed over his bare chest.