Black And White

Eighteen

Upon arriving home, Scott immediately helped Alex set up the couch so that Alex and Avi could both fit on it.

Mitch was currently babysitting Avi as the others did so, and noticed that Avi was fascinated by his own tattoos.

Mitch stood beside him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. But look." Avi lifted his shirt a little to show Mitch a compass tattoo on his ribcage.

Mitch only nodded. "Scott has one of those too."

"Oh yeah." Avi paused. "I always forget that you two see naked sometimes."

"Yeah... We see lots of naked." Mitch humored him, mostly because he was too tired to bother correcting him.

"I want to see naked. Why am I so--?"

Scott interupted him, by slinging an arm over his shoulders. "I know you're lonely, Av. But you'll find someone soon, I promise."

Avi frowned up at Scott. "You don't get it. You're a not-lonely person."

Alex took a step toward him then, and offered his hand. "Hey.. I'm a lonely person too. If you want to talk about it..?"

Avi nodded a few times, quickly attaching himself to Alex. "Okay."

Scott met Alex's eyes for a moment. "Take care of him for me, would you? And if you need anything at all, my room is just down the hallway, here."

Mitch snuck past him to go to Scott's room, wanting to get in a bed before he completely passed out.

Scott hurried to follow him, though he was relatively quiet about it. He shut the bedroom door behind him, and watched Mitch flop onto the bed. "Everything alright, Cutie?"

"Mhmm."

Scott walked over to the bed, sitting beside him. "I'm sorry I kept you out so late. I wouldn't have, but Alex and Avi were having so much fun, I couldn't bear to ask them to leave."

"Not your fault."

Scott was quiet for a second, and he looked down at his hands. "You should've just told me you weren't enjoying yourself. I could've taken you home."

Mitch turned his head to look at him. "I didn't say I wasn't having fun, Scott. I'm just tired." Mitch forced himself to sit up, just so he could set a reassuring hand on Scott's shoulder. "Really, I'm fine. Just lay with me, please?"

Scott glanced back at him, and then stood up to remove his shirt and toss it over to the side of the room. "Can I get you anything to sleep in? I'm perfectly fine if you just want to stay in underwear, or nothing at all, but... If it'll make you more comfortable, I'll get you some sweatpants."

"I don't need anything. Thank you, though."

Scott nodded once, and then unzipped his jeans before stopping himself again. "Do you mind if I..?"

"Of course not." Mitch replied quickly. He couldn't help but stare at Scott's body, littered with tattoos. It was remarkable to him, how many things Scott could find that meant so much to him, for him to permanently mark himself with them.

Scott didn't notice, as he tossed his jeans to the perimeter of the room.

Mitch took a step forward suddenly, and grabbed Scott's wrist gently. "Wait." He moved Scott's arm back slightly, only to see the small tattoo on Scott's hip. "What's that?"

Scott removed his arm from Mitch's hold, to pull his boxers up a very small amount, to hide whatever Mitch was referencing. "Nothing."

"Yeah right. Show me."

Scott frowned, knowing he wouldn't be able to resist. "Mitchie... No."

"Show me."

Scott looked away, his palm flat against the spot on his hip just in case. "Nuh uh."

"Scott. Show me." Mitch replied with more demand, crossing his arms over his chest.

Scott pouted, but removed his hand from his hip, and he pulled the side of his boxers down a little to show Mitch his new, but small, tattoo. "Don't be mad."

Mitch leaned down a little, and ran his finger gently over the 'M' tattoo. "I told you this would be a bad idea."

"I know you did. But I ignored you... Sorry."

"I mean... You don't really need to apologize. What's done is done."

Scott put his boxers back in place, to hide it again. "You're mad." He said flatly, before he continued. "I tried to get it in a spot where no one would really see it. And... It's really small, so... In fact, I've had it for as long as I've had the compass, and you didn't see it until just now, so. That should make you feel a little better."

"I'm not mad. I just... Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?"

"No."

Mitch scoffed a little. "How do you figure?"

Scott eyed him for a second, before he laid down on his bed. "Okay... I have to be real with you for a second... I think you don't like the idea of a tattoo because you think I'm going to guilt you into staying with me for a long time."

"That's not--"

"Let me finish, babe. You don't want me to commit to it too early, because you're afraid of the future. You're afraid of where we'll end up. That's why you're afraid to speak up to your parents. Because you see life in a way that prepares you for every possible outcome."

"I'm not afraid of the future. I just don't want you doing something you'll regret."

"Which is in the future, no? Why can't I just be young and impulsive? So what if I regret it?"

"Because what if something awful happens? Then you have that constant reminder, and you can't make it go away."

Scott turned to look at him. "Wow. That's dark."

Mitch only shrugged, as he climbed into bed as well, now that he'd stripped down a few layers. "Just looking out for you, I guess."

"But... Mitchie. Even if... In a few years, or months, or weeks, whatever. If you decide that you want to be with someone else, or... If college whisks you away from me. No matter what happens, I'll always want to remember you. Always."

"But why?"

"You're my best friend, dummy."

"So what?"

"So, why wouldn't I want to remember you?"

"Did you just answer my question with a question?"

"Did you just question that I answered a question with a question?"

"Did you just--?"

Scott cut him off by kissing him, before that whole thing could get out of hand.

Mitch giggled into it and broke the kiss, bringing his fingertips up to his lips, as if he could still feel Scott there.

Scott smiled, kissing his ear, cheekbone, and jaw. "I'm forever grateful that I got to meet you, Mitch. Regardless of how our story ends, I'm just glad you made an appearance. Because you've changed my life."

Mitch blinked at him a few times, and then smiled a little. "You're really drunk, huh?"

Scott's face contorted, as his fond expression dropped into one of offense, and he rolled his eyes. "Fuck you. I was being cute."

"Because you're drunk."

"Because I love you, you moron."

Mitch giggled. "I know. And I love you too, stupid."

Scott rolled his eyes again, and roughly pulled Mitch into his body to show how irritated he was. "I'm being serious, dumbass."

"So am I."

Scott paused, looking down at him. "Really?"

Mitch met his eyes, the tension unbearable, until he nodded once and spoke in a small voice. "Yes."

*