Snapshots

Knight

mhrnreza requested protective!scott

Mitch turns around to find, not Scott behind him, but another man, someone he doesn't recognize grabbing him around the waist, sliding huge, strong hands around Mitch's hips and across his belly. Before the man can pull Mitch backwards against his body, Mitch twists his hips and digs his shoulder into the man's chest to get leverage to push himself away. It's hard to squirm out of the man's grasp but he finally manages to pull free, and he stumbles forward a few steps, hurtling right into Scott's arms.

Scott clutches at Mitch's arms, just barely keeping him upright, and he gives Mitch a confused stare. Mitch is either too drunk or not drunk enough, because he grabs Scott's neck and clings to him, like Scott is his knight in shining armor.

"Are you okay?" Scott asks.

"That guy," Mitch says, "I thought he was you."

"What guy? Why?"

"He grabbed me and I turned around and just expected—but he wasn't you, and I got scared."

Scott immediately straightens and wraps his arm protectively around Mitch's waist. "He grabbed you? What the fuck?"

"It's fine, I just thought he was you, so I didn't realize quick enough, and then he—"

"It's not a matter of being quick," Scott interrupts angrily. "He shouldn't have grabbed you. Where is he? I'll fucking tell him."

"Scott, don't—"

"No, don't tell me don't! I'll fuck him up. You can touch somebody without asking, that's not cool. You can't fucking touch my man. Is he kidding?"

Mitch grabs Scott's arm to keep him from pulling away. "Your man? Are you kidding?"

"No, if he thinks he can touch you like that, then I'm gonna fuck him up!" Scott says, yanking out of Mitch's grasp. "Who is he? Which one is he?"

Mitch scans the crowd around them, half-curious to see Scott attempt to beat somebody up, but the man is nowhere to be found. He tells Scott as much, then suggests they head outside for some fresh air. Scott is drunker than he first realized, which explains the sudden desire to fight.

"How many have you had?" Mitch asks. They walk a few steps away from the door, down the sidewalk to an empty part of the street. "It's not like you to want to fight people. What the fuck's wrong with you?"

"Nothing!" Scott cries. "I'm just trying to defend your honor."

"My honor? Bitch, my honor doesn't need defending. I can fight for myself."

Scott catches Mitch with an arm slung around his neck and reels him in for a tight embrace. "But that's my job. I like being your big strong hero."

Mitch revels in the embrace for a brief, comforting moment before rolling his eyes and slipping free. He takes Scott's hand and pulls him further down the sidewalk. They'll call for a car around the corner, after they've walked off some of the booze. "Then maybe next time don't drink so much," he says. "I need my heroes ready to jump in at any moment."

"Anything for you, Mitchy," Scott says. "Always."