Scömìche One Shots (*PG-R*)

Temporary High

Scott perked up when his phone finally buzzed, his heart racing as he unlocked the screen and was finally met with exactly the text he'd been waiting for.

Mitch: need you

Scott was beyond ready. He'd been up since 8am preparing to deal with Mitch's hangover, which was ridiculous because he was well aware that Mitch wouldn't be up until after noon. He had woken pretty early himself though, his mind racing so much that he knew there was no going back to sleep. He was consumed by memories of last night and before he went to bed he'd promised himself that today would be the day he'd finally talk to Mitch about what had been on his mind for so long.

And now that it was time, he was so ready to get it overwith.

He turned the tv off and stretched, his muscles stiff from sitting on the couch all morning. He walked over and grabbed everything he needed: a bottle of water and Mitch's coffee from the fridge, the little bottle of ibuprofen on the counter and some gluten free crackers from the pantry. He knocked lightly on the boys door with his arms loaded and let himself in with a chuckle once he heard a soft groan from the other side.

"Suffering?"

"Mhmm," Mitch hummed, not bothering to open his eyes when he felt the slight dip in his mattress. "At least roll over, Mitchie. I can't help you with your face buried in your pillow." The brunette sighed and carefully rolled onto his back, his eyes fluttering open to gauge his surroundings. He sighed in relief when he realized that Scott hadn't turned the light on or opened his blinds, his room still dark enough that he could make out Scott's figure without hurting his eyes with light. His head was pounding and his stomach hurt and he felt absolutely miserable.

"Ibuprofen, please."

"Nope. Not on an empty stomach. Eat first." Scott fished out three crackers from the packet and opened the water bottle for him, squeezing next to him on the bed and passing him his drink between bites. When he finally finished he rewarded him with two tablets of ibuprofen and Mitch breathed a sigh of relief. He leaned closer to Scott and gave him a quick one-armed squeeze, not bothering to adjust the sleeve of his sweater when it fell off his shoulder.

"You're my fucking savior." He gulped down both pills at once with a sip of water, humming afterwards at the thought that relief was coming. "What would I do without you? Thanks, Scotty."

"No prob." Scott smiled when the brunette nestled into his side, the heat from his skin radiating through Scott's tshirt and warming him underneath. Mitch slipped his eyes back shut and tried to concentrate on anything but his aching body. "Last night was so much fun, right?"

"Yeah." Scott smiled. "It was great. I don't regret one second of it. Do you?"

"Nope. Not one."

Scott breathed a sigh of relief, his muscles relaxing. This was so nice. Mitch nestled into his side, his head laying on his chest as Scott rubbed his back to comfort him through his hangover. He felt his heart pound inside of his chest. He hated that Mitch was aching but he swore he could stay like this forever and die a happy man. He almost didn't want to start talking, knowing what he wanted to say might throw the boy off and mess up the serenity of the scene. The boy seemed to be falling back asleep, though, and Scott needed to get it out while his morale was still high. He couldn't risk waiting, knowing he would begin doubting himself again as soon as he gave himself enough time to think.

"Hey, I brought you Starbucks."

Mitch peeked one eye open and took the plastic cup from him, wedging it between their bodies so that he could suck from the straw without having to hold it up. Scott shook his head and chuckled. "You're wrecked, aren't you?"