Promised - The Pact book 2 (COMPLETE)

Little things mean the most

"What's wrong? Still don't feel well?"

"Just tired."

"It's been a bit crazy lately, that's for sure. Let me help." He scooted over on the chair and pulled Mitch into his arms. "You're cold." He hugged Mitch, but he pulled away. Scott frowned, surprised.

"Need coffee." He walked away, leaving Scott to call after him.

"I'd have made you one if you wanted."

In bed that night Scott laid his arm over Mitch's waist as usual before sleep. He woke to find Mitch curled up at the far edge of the mattress, sound asleep. Probably Mitch had overheated. Scott stretched and drifted off again.

Life was so busy, with promotion, songwriting and auditioning as well as socialising, that they often fell into bed exhausted. Mitch slept alone more often, blaming tiredness and saying he didn't want to disturb Scott when he woke at night. It made sense. He could starfish across the bed and stretch out the tension in his back. He missed his baby of course, but his back was sore. He really needed to see his chiropractor again.

One night as he fell asleep after a mumbled good night and perfunctory kiss on the cheek, Scott realised they'd gone a whole week without intimacy. Their diary was packed for weeks ahead, often with different schedules. He made a mental note to book a weekend away somewhere.

Looking back, he blamed himself for not acting sooner.

Next morning he pounded the treadmill, thinking. Mitch was unfailingly professional at work, but his sparkle was lacking. He cancelled evenings with friends and Scott willingly stayed in, cuddling under blankets and eating ice cream in front of movies they'd seen a million times. But the last time, Mitch lay rigid in his arms. Instead of eagerly giving and accepting caresses, he seemed passive yet tense.

Scott stopped the treadmill and wiped sweat from his neck. When had he last seen Mitch naked? They were spending nights apart, here in the same house. It should have been unthinkable, but it was happening too often. A knot twisted in his stomach.

He was neglecting his baby, and that had to change.

Upstairs, Mitch declined his playful offer to save water.

"Babe, I'm wiped out. I need more sleep." His tone was flat.

"We can sleep after. Come on Mitchy, it's Sunday, we have all day." Scott bit the inside of his lip and his heart skipped a beat. "Besides, I miss you, and it's been ages since—"

"Right, okay, fine." Mitch threw off the covers, not meeting Scott's eyes.

Scott watched him walk into the bathroom, skin pale and unmarked. He was beautiful and unhappy.

Mitch stood under the stream of water, eyes closed. Scott didn't know how to approach him. He was inches and miles away.

Scott took a breath. "Just relax, let me take care of you."

He hummed while washing Mitch's hair, rinsing the suds away thoroughly. Then he paused. For the first time he was unsure about touching him.

"Is it okay if I wash you?"

"Okay." It was a whisper.

Scott soaped Mitch all over, keeping his touch light and avoiding any danger zones. Then he quickly washed himself, aware of the tension between them.

"What do you want me to do?" Mitch stared at the floor.

Scott stood back. "I want..." He blinked. The situation was slipping out of control and he didn't know what to say or do. "I want to hold you, if you'll let me."