Under Control

4. Wardrobes

Author's Note: Happy Fourth of July to my fellow American bbs :D Sorry I didn't update yesterday. It was the first time that vertigo knocked me out of commission for an entire 24 hours. Yay record breaking! 

4. Wardrobes

The next month went by uneventfully.

Wake up, drink green sludge, run, shower, get a few hours of work done, work out with Mark, shower, answer emails, walk Bubba, come home, eat dinner, sleep.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

He hardly even registered the hunger, anymore.

Nearly two months in, and Scott had lost a total of twenty pounds. He had hoped to maintain the momentum from the beginning of his weight loss, but he knew that momentum was going to die down as he continued to lose.

He was down to 190 pounds. A healthy weight for someone who was 6'3" was around 200 pounds. And he was gaining muscle.

At least that's what he saying to make himself feel better.

He was, though. His arms were finally becoming defined again, and he could actually make out the faint outline of his abs when he was dehydrated enough. His oblique muscles were always the first thing to show definition, so he had been pleased to see the v-line along his waist again.

He still insisted upon having sex in the dark.

It was starting to aggravate Mark. That much was clear, but the smaller man never outwardly said anything about it.

In fact, Mark likely hadn't seen any evidence of Scott's recent progress. Not in weeks. It wasn't that he felt worse than he did when he had started on this journey, but he wanted to wait until it was perfect for Mark to see.

He wanted to make Mark feel the way that he felt each and every time he saw Mark naked.

He also had convinced Mark that certain... positions... were better than others. Basically, Scott didn't want to be the one hovering over Mark, where his fat could hang down and slap against Mark's skin, disgustingly.

So Scott preferred to be on his back, with a perfect view of Mark above him. Mark didn't mind having more control this way, but it was clearly starting to worry him, why Scott wasn't as... dominating over him.

Almost... lazy.

Scott arrived at the set of their next music video right on time, with his coffee in hand.

Black. No sugar. Absolutely no milk.

"Ugh, thank God. Why haven't I seen you in like a month?" Mitch asked, sliding down off of the counter of the dressing room and reaching up to give him a hug.

Scott smiled into his shoulder as he hugged him tightly. "You tell me, Messer."

Mitch pulled away, blushing slightly. "You liked the first single?" His voice was timid, like he was afraid of Scott's honest opinion.

"I told you when we talked on the phone after. I'm obsessed."

Mitch's face brightened even further. "Speaking of 'obsessed', Mitch said, eyeing Scott from head to toe. "How is it that you are looking so damn..." he appeared to ponder for a moment, and Scott became nauseous as he mentally filled in the blank.

Huge? Fat? Gross? Old?

"Snatched," Mitch finished, nodding approvingly.

Scott laughed. "Yeah, okay, Mitch."