Push.

12. And I Don't Know Why You Couldn't Just Stay with Me

It was so sweet, Mitch could throw up.

He groaned, earning himself a sympathetic pat on the back by Kevin.

"Distract me. Please," Mitch whined.

"That's gotta be tough, man. I'm sorry. But hey, moving on is a good thing. It's healthy. And Scott said you were doing the same?"

"Scott took a moment of weakness and ran with it without even asking me what was going on," Mitch muttered.

"So you didn't find yourself a handsome man when you were in the hospital?" Kevin asked with a teasing smirk.

"I kissed a guy once, Kev. Because Scott told me to."

"He... what?"

"My Scott."

"Oh. You're calling it that, again?"

Mitch glared at him. "Don't call him 'it'."

"Okay, okay. Well, it sounds like you're mad at the wrong guy. Noah's a good dude."

"Great. That's just what I want to hear. Tell me more about the man that the guy I love replaced me with."

"Mitch, don't snap at me."

The tone was stern, and it snapped Mitch out of his anger, effectively.

"You're right. It's hard," Mitch muttered. Kevin nodded, understandingly.

"I'm sorry, bud."

Watching Scott's eyes light up, watching this man make him smile, watching him touch him was physically painful as the night went on.

He was fighting back tears with all of his might, but he knew that it was a losing battle.

He knew that it was only a matter of time before they spilled over, like a bucket under a leaky faucet.

So, he drank.

Was his intention to become so drunk that Scott would have to help him to get home? Absolutely not. Was it poetic justice, watching Noah say goodbye to him at the end of the night, disappointed that he wasn't taking Scott home with him? To do God knows what?

Mitch gagged.

"Whoa. Easy. Almost there," Scott muttered, with Kirstin in tow.

"I'm sorry we ruined your night, Scott," she said, and Mitch rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, sorry we kept you from getting laid," Mitch said with laughter in his voice, but the words were slurred and bordered on hysterical.

They paused in front of their apartment as Kirstin unlocked the door. Scott stood silently with Mitch's arm around his shoulders, his hand clutching Mitch's waist to keep him upright.

He could easily let go and allow Mitch to fall on his face. But he wasn't. Here he was, Saint Scott again.

Mitch scoffed.

"Something funny?" Kirstin asked with a warning tone as the door opened.

"Yeah. Just thinking about how Scott can't seem to stop saving me. Getting annoying yet?"

He wondered if the other two had even understood his words. His mouth was having difficulty forming them.

Scott brought him to his room, still silent, and eased him to a seated position on the edge of his bed.

He turned towards the dresser, but flew forward again, catching Mitch as he fell face-first towards the floor. The blond cursed under his breath as he sat Mitch's limp body back up.