Speak to Me. (Scömítche)

Chapter 10

POV: Mitch
"What the hell?" I blurt. Paintballs? Could Scott get any more immature than he already was?
"Whoop! That felt good. You wanna try?" He asks, breathing rapidly as he offered me the gun. It scared me being in such a protected neighborhood, paint-balling my ex's house. But I gotta admit, it did look pretty fun, and I had to get out the wave of emotions I was keeping under the thick sweatshirt that I was wearing that belonged to Scott.
"Okay. But I'm ditching you if we get caught," I joked. Scott smirked as I dropped under the surprisingly heavy wait of the gun.
Lining the shot was way harder than I thought it would be, especially with the fact that the gun weighed as much as the Great Wall of China. I eventually give up lining the shot and I pulled the trigger blindly. It shot a yellow ball up, up, and up until it smashed yellow goo on Travis's bedroom window. I felt instantly guilty, but there was another feeling present.
I felt alive almost. I was free from the rape that Travis would bestow upon me at any given moment. I was free to date the guys I wanted to date. I was free to go out and get drunk, and not have to worry about meeting Travis.
Not anymore.
Because I felt brand new.
"Nice shot!" Scott gave me a high five.
"Now we can go if you-"
"No. I want to do it again!" I surprised myself with my words. He had a devilish grin on his face, telling me that he lived what he was seeing of me.
"Okay. Would you like me to help you aim?" He asked awkwardly. He apparently hit his target perfectly. Why not?
"Sure." He walked around so he was behind me. He grabbed my wrists with his hands and placed them properly on the gun. It gave me a rush, to touch Scott this way. His arms worked on either side of my body, almost like spooning, but not really.
Once he placed my hands, he helped me support the gun. The weight instantly felt lighter as he held the gun up with his strong arms. I really hope that by him being so close to me, he couldn't see my smile continually growing.
"Where do you want to aim?" His question was muffled by the hood of the sweatshirt. It sounded like a drunk slur, but I eventually made it out.
"Through the window," I say, bouncing up and down on my toes. I was really cold and excited, and Scott's body warmth was going to the back of my neck-where his breath was- all the way to the small of my back. It was an odd moment for two friends, but when one of those friends are gay, I don't think it would matter anyway.
"Ooh. Kick of the wild side, tonight? Or have the paint fumes clogged your brain?" Scott laughed as he slowly lifted the barrel of the gun so it was pointing at the window I had hit. The yellow paint had smeared, and it was running down the front of the house.
So much for that white paint.
"Pull the trigger when your ready," I hear Scott whisper in my ear. I could feel his breath slide like icicles down my neck. It was a chill that I didn't mind getting.
Was he teasing me?
"3...2...1!" I close my eyes, and my fingers press the trigger of the gun down for a long time so I could start rapid-fire. Green, red, blue, yellow, orange. All in a row. And then, smash.
The window was broken before my eyes. And nearby house lights flash on.
No time to celebrate.
"Shit! Mitch! Come help me get the stuff!" Scott's arms left me and left me to carry the gun. It felt like the wall had two whales on it now.
We pulled our hoods up more to cover our faces as lights went off from everywhere. The car was feet away. And then inches.
I flung the car door open and slung my body in the passenger side, and Scott did the same on the driver's side. Before we knew it, we were out of there, with a paint job to mark our triumph.
-
{POV changes to Scott}
"Come dance with me Scott!" Mitch called from the living room. He had to of been on his fifth beer. It was two in the morning, but we decided when getting home that we needed to celebrate. Mitch took celebrating as a chance to wind down after showing his wild side to me today. It was new, no doubt. I loved bad-ass Mitch, and I hoped he would stop by every now and then.
"Your drunk, honey," I say, putting my hands on his shoulders to steady him. He pouted for a couple of seconds.
"I-I am not drunk, thank you v-v-ery much," he hiccuped, and he leaned into me as he fell. I picked him up and I held him in my arms. I loved that he gave me excuses to hold him close to me. Even when drunk, he wouldn't deny me.
"Did you call me honey?"
"I did," I say, smiling. He wouldn't remember this, anyway. I just wanted to try it. He smiled, and wrapped his arms around my neck. I couldn't hide my blush as he tilted his head back. And then, we had a moment where our eyes met. His beautiful chocolate brown eyes that I could get lost in. And his hair, how it was parted to the side like it was. He bit his lip, and it made me go crazy. I was about to confirm my crush for Mitch. That I'm gay. Even if he was drunk, once I start, I can't stop. And sooner or later, he would know. I don't think I was ready, but it didn't stop me from smirking at those full, pink lips on Mitch's perfect face.
My moment was here.
I took a deep breath, and I closed the space between our lips for the first time.
God, it was good to. I was kissing my roommate. My roommate, my best friend, my partner, my band member. He was all of these things, and he was perfect.
He pulled away, and sighed into my chest. I had to process what had just happened.
I kissed Mitch.
I. Had kissed. Mitch.
I stared at him for a while until he started to pull me upstairs. I couldn't believe what was happening to me . This was happening.
But I couldn't let it happen.
I wasn't going to take as much advantage of his drunken state as much as I have already. There would be too many firsts, in one night. But I would let Mitch do whatever it is he wanted to do. Play with my hair, kiss, grind.
As long as it didn't end up with our bodies tangled together with our clothes on the ground.
-
A/N: I can't write smut ya'll. I'm not going to write it, either. That is probably as smutty as it gets. But yeah. I hope you guys enjoyed the bad-ass versions of Mitch and Scott. Because it annoyed me to write lien that. I can't write, today. Updates are random! Thanks, BYEEEE.