The Pact (Scömìche)(completed)

48 A new collaboration

Hello lovelies, here's my latest instalment in 'how to beat the Monday blues' for y'all.💖

But first can we talk about GUY.exe ? 

Because damn, that video left me speechless. So rich in detail and homages to different monster genres; Frankenstein, MJ's Thriller, Rocky Horror, Lady Gaga, Dr Who...  (weeping with awe and laughter) The costumes, the acting, the choreo were 🔥

And Scott. Can. Dance. Those shoulders move. Scott in a suit. Dancing. Yes.

How are they so talented and creative and beautiful and wow, they nailed it. NAILED. IT. Hope they release some BTS for that shoot.

So back to this little story. Mitch and Scott come out to their bandmates and Mitch tries to outrun the ghosts of his past. Flavours today are fluffy, funny, sour, sweet and hot. Featuring 2 versions of Scott: 💝 and 💥.

4k words again, so settle down and enjoy.🍁

*****

Mitch was reduced to a gratified puddle, skin burning from kiss-bites, ass satisfyingly sore, and pulse settling slowly. His hand fit into Scott's larger one and he felt each beat of that big heart under his palm, each rise and fall of his chest. He scattered butterfly kisses on warm skin. They had no energy to do more than fall into each other.

The world spun slower.

Everything felt different. Scott was under his skin and seeping into his veins. He radiated adoration. If his smile was the sun, the unfiltered post-orgasm look in his eyes was a supernova, a million times brighter. Mitch could hardly meet that look and answer its silent question.

He knew Scott had more to say, and he didn't know if he could keep up. Voices in his head would not be silenced.

Nothing lasts, and love hurts.

Some people mean what they say.

Be brave.

Don't tell me what he means to you, show him.

He cuddled his sleeping giant and he had never felt so safe, so completely accepted. Scott was his everything and following that truth could lead to only one conclusion.

His mind resisted even as his body tried to merge, maximising skin contact by moving so close to Scott that he barely had room to breathe. There were worse ways to die. He let go of the endless brain chatter and let himself sink into sleep.

The next morning he woke to singing in the shower. He didn't know the song, but he enjoyed the voice. He went into the bathroom and washed his face, and when Scott threw out a ridiculous riff like it was nothing he smiled. This was his reality now. He could come home to Scott, wake up with Scott, sing with Scott even.

What else had he dreamed of, all those lonely days and nights? He'd prayed for reconciliation, hoped for something like friendship, and now he had the possibility of much more. Scott wanted him. If only he could risk giving himself completely. Scott deserved no less.

"Hey, baby." Scott stepped out of the shower and Mitch eyed hard muscles restrained by glistening skin. Damn, he looked good.

"Morning." He accepted a light kiss and ran his fingertip over one bicep before licking it. "Wet Scott is hot."

Scott shook his head and backed away, grabbing a towel. "Temptress. But we have things to do today so bye." He left the bathroom with a wink.

Mitch left the shower temperature unchanged, and lathered himself from head to foot. He let his mind spin in neutral, not thinking about anything except the water running down his skin, the sting as he washed the many bites on his neck, chest, and inner thigh, and the ache in his lower back. Warm water worked wonders as he stretched his spine gently.