Scömìche One Shots (*PG-R*)

Love Letter

Mitch felt something brushing the sensitive skin of his forehead and he frowned in his sleep. He wanted to ignore it but whatever was touching him simply wouldn't leave him alone and it kind of hurt. He wove in and out of consciousness and was irritated when his body finally woke him up. He fluttered his eyes open and was met with the outline of Scott kneeling on the floor next to him, his fingers brushing Mitch's hair off of his sweaty forehead.

"Hi, baby. I'm sorry to wake you, it's almost night time and I thought I should get some food and medicine in you before bed. How are you feeling?"

Mitch moaned, getting more and more upset as he inched towards full consciousness. He immediately remembered he had a fever as he became aware of everything bad he was feeling. His head was pounding mercilessly and his whole entire body was sore, his skin feeling so hypersensitive that he wanted to swat away the hand that Scott was lightly brushing his forehead with. He was thankful that the only illumination in the room was from a nightlight Scott had plugged in last night because he couldn't imagine how awful it would have been to wake up with a string light burning into his sore eyes. He whimpered, wanting to cry but worried about how much it would intensify his already cruel headache.

Scott finally stopped touching his head and instead rested his hand on Mitch shoulder over the comforter. The pressure was comforting and Mitch made an unhappy little noise, distressed and uncomfortable and wishing Scott could make him feel better. Scott laid his head down on the mattress, trying to see Mitch properly in the dim light. "My poor, sick baby. I'm so sorry. Let me just feed you and give you some painkillers and I'll let you go right back to sleep, alright honey?"

Mitch nodded and reached out of the covers for Scott's hand, removing it from his shoulder and letting it fall onto the mattress loosely wrapped by his. He began to get upset again thinking of how he should have been able to hold Scott's hand more firmly but he couldn't muster up enough energy to do it. His hormones were out of control and there wasn't anything he could do about it- he wanted to cry so badly and his mind was looking for any reason to do so, but he was too sore to follow through. Mitch whispered for Scott to please, please keep the lights off and Scott kissed his chest over the comforter before leaving the room to get his food.

The eating wasn't that bad. Scott had left the door open so that there was just a dull light in the room coming from the hallway, and it took Mitch less than a minute to adjust to the brightness. Scott let him take his time to prop himself up against the back of the bed and had helped him eat until he couldn't anymore. He was glad that Scott didn't lecture him when he gave up with way more than half of his food still on his plate, instead helping Mitch to take his pills and telling that they could try to eat again later. He leaned against the back of the bed next to Mitch and wrapped an arm around him, letting Mitch rest his buzzing head on his shoulder. Mitch melted right into him, Scott's cool skin so pleasant and soothing against his own heated, feverish skin. Scott had to be the most patient, caring person in the whole world for treating him so kindly while he was such a mess and that thought alone set Mitch off, hot tears rolling silently down his cheeks.

Scott frowned when he felt a tear land on his shoulder and roll down his bare arm. He gave Mitch a little squeeze, talking quietly to him to try to comfort him. "What wrong, honey?" He felt Mitch shiver a little and wondered if he was cold, but Mitch finally stopped holding back and began to cry openly. Scott's heart shattered at the poor boy's quiet, watery sobs and he reached over to lift Mitch up from under his thighs and set him in his lap. He rested Mitch's head on his shoulder, letting him cry and get some of his frustration out. Scott rocked him in his arms, gently rubbing his back and whispering to him in an effort to comfort him.

"Shhhh. It's okay. I'm so sorry, baby, this sucks. You just have to tough it out a couple more days and you'll get so much better that you'll forget you were ever sick. Isn't that right?"

Mitch nodded against his neck, gasping from his sobs. Scott felt fresh tears soak through his tank top and he tightened his arms around his poor, sick boy.

"It's okay, you can cry. I missed you so much today, sweetheart. Do you wanna know what I did all day without my beautiful best friend by my side?"

Mitch nodded against him again, trying to calm himself a little. He was already physically tired of crying and really did want to hear whatever Scott wanted to tell him, beyond thankful to have a distraction. He wanted to argue about the 'beautiful' portion of his statement, but he didn't bother. He felt and probably looked awful too, but he knew Scott would just find some way to make him feel artistically beautiful or something if he protested. Scott was good at that- especially when Mitch was upset- and to be quite honest, Mitch wasn't in the mood to feel beautiful. He wanted to suffer and be messy and gross without any unnecessary positivity from his annoyingly sweet boyfriend, so he stayed quiet and waited for him to start speaking.

"Hmm. Well, first I woke up and fed you and then ate some breakfast myself, too, but you already knew that. Then I went to a meeting about the Christmas album, just me and Kevin and Ben. It was pretty boring and probably of no interest to you, so I won't bore you with details. I checked on you after that but you were asleep so I left you some snacks and water and went out again. I'm glad you ate some of the pretzels, by the way. Good boy."

Mitch had turned away from him and rested his cheek on Scott's shoulder so Scott kissed the back of his head, patting his back and rocking him like a baby. It was cute, almost funny for him to be holding Mitch like this, not that he hadn't done it before. Mitch was a pretty big boy, nearly six feet tall, but he cuddled right up to Scott like an oversized toddler whenever he was sick or upset. Scott wanted to crack a joke but didn't dare to, knowing Mitch was oversensitive and might start crying if he thought Scott was making fun of him. "Right, anyway, I went out after that. I went shopping."

"Really?" Mitch sniffled, his voice still heavy. He was so glad that Scott was talking to him, giving him anything to think about other than how much pain he was in. "What did you get?"

"Oh, I got lots of things. All for you."

Mitch stopped sniffling for a moment. He wanted to turn to look at Scott and see his face but the heaviness in his head won out and he didn't. He stayed quiet for a moment, letting Scott gently sway him back and forth in his lap.

"Really?"

"Yup. Got you some little prezzies."

"Why?" He didn't know why his voice was getting watery again and tried to ignore it.

"Because you deserve them. Because I couldn't stop thinking about you and I wished you didn't have to feel so awful. I wanted to do something that might make your day better, but since I couldn't take you out to cheer you up I brought some nice things home for you."

Mitch's breathing got heavy but Scott rubbed his back and held him so tightly that Mitch didn't let himself sob again. He let a few hot tears fall onto Scott's skin again and let his breathing slowly relax on its own as Scott rocked him gently.

"There you go, baby. Such a strong boy. Can I give you your gifts right now? Would that make you feel better?"

Mitch nodded against his shoulder, letting Scott hold him a little longer before he tightened his hold around Mitch and flipped them over so that Mitch was sitting leaned against the back of the bed bed and Scott was hovering over him. He kissed the top of Mitch's head and pulled the covers up to his stomach, whispering a quiet "be right back" before leaving the room.