Push.

11. I'm a Little Untrusting when I think that the Truth is Gonna Hurt You

"Thank you. Thank you for accepting this. Thank you for letting me get fixed again."

"A promise... is a promise."

Mitch paused, unsure of what Scott was saying. "What does that mean?"

"Never... mind... sleep?"

Now, it was time to move on.

A knock on the open door startled him from his task of packing his things. He turned to find a familiar stature in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

He was beautiful, standing there with a warm smile.

Mitch dropped his things as though they were on fire, and jumped into the awaiting arms like his life depended on it.

"Missed you, Mitchy," Scott's low voice reverberated through him.

"Thank you for coming to get me," Mitch whispered. He tried to ignore the stiffness of Scott's embrace. Something didn't feel right. He inhaled against him.

Vanilla and cedar. Perfect.

He nearly whimpered as Scott let him go. He watched the blond approach his bag and take it, slinging it over his shoulder.

"Ready?"

Mitch nodded. "Ready."

"Gonna be able to catch up this semester?" Scott asked as they sat on the bus.

Mitch shrugged. "It was only twenty-one days this time. I caused way more damage last time."

The bus stopped and they hopped off, Mitch thanking Scott for carrying his bag for the thousandth time.

He put his key in the door, laughing gently at a joke that Scott had made, and it swung open.

"Welcome home!"

Kirstin, Rozzi, Kevin, and Chet stood around the living room, grinning from ear to ear. He found himself grinning in return, and he hugged each of them for what seemed like hours.

It was exactly what he needed, to be surrounded by people who had quickly become so important to him. Even Chet, who looked at him with true joy in his eyes.

"Thank you for forgiving me," Mitch whispered as they hugged, and Chet hugged him tightly.

"I'm a jerk, I know," Chet replied, lightly, giving him one final squeeze before letting him go.

They sat around the living room, drinking and eating Mitch's favorite take-out. The air was light, and everyone seemed to be relaxed for the first time since Mitch could remember.

Mitch watched as Scott spoke with everyone. He didn't even care that he knew everyone could tell he was staring. He watched the way Scott's eyes lit up, the way his mouth formed words. He watched the way he covered his mouth when he laughed.

God, Mitch loved how he covered his mouth when he laughed.

He watched as Scott would run his hands through his hair every once in a while, as though fixing it, even though it hadn't moved even a millimeter. Sitting perfectly on his head in a perfectly styled wave.

He watched as Scott's tattoo peeked out from below his t-shirt sleeve. It made Mitch want to cut the sleeves off of everything Scott wore. He watched as his knee bounced up and down as he told a story, the contents of which Mitch couldn't tell you, as he was far too busy admiring the man in front of him.