55: "You promsie?"

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Days after their return home from their trip, Scott, even though he was starting to struggle with school, didn't hesitate on setting his work aside to play with Wesley in the backyard. It was as the two were playing catch, did Mitch happen to walk by Scott's scattered papers and notebooks that were left on the dining room table.
Wanting to se the table for lunch, Mitch began to pack Scott's things away, making sure to keep the papers as organized as possible, and was about to set them back into his boyfriend's bag, when a packet slid out of the navy blue backpack and settled at Mitch's feet.
Curiously picking it up, Mitch felt himself frown when he saw the grade Scott had gotten on the test; the bright red ink standing out against Scott's neat handwriting that was scribbled across the papers in a blue ink.
"Hey!" Scott breathed out as he jogged inside, getting a bottle of water for their son. "Wesley is getting so good at his hand eye coordination again! His grip is crazy good now,"
"That's good," Mitch replied, turning and setting the test on the table. Scott glanced down at it and sighed, handing Wesley his water and telling him to go play outside with his dog. When they were alone, Scott leaned against the doorway and ran his hand through his hair.
"I know,"
"Babe.. what's going on? You said you felt so confident about that test,"
Scott nodded, "I know. It was just an off day, I guess. It's alright, I still have a passing grade,"
"What's a 'passing' grade consist of?"
Scott quirked a brow, "Are you parenting me right now?"
"You bet your ass I am. Sit," after a moment, Scott realized Mitch was serious and eventually sat at the table, his arms crossed over his chest as he slouched back. "Be honest," Mitch sat next to Scott. "What's going on? For as long as I've known you, love, you've never gotten a grade lower than an eighty percent. The only time you did drop to a sixty, was when your mom— you know,"
Scott looked away, "when she what? Go ahead, Mitch, say it. I'm a grown boy, I can handle it,"
Mitch shook his head, "I'm not the enemy here, Scott; I'm just trying to help. You're my boyfriend and my best friend; I want to help you."
"It's a bad day, Mitch. Don't worry, I'm fine."
"Then look me in the eye and say it,"
When Scott looked up, he shifted under Mitch's parental and worried eyes before sighing and slouching further in his seat. "Fine, I'm struggling a little. I just— I heard rumor that there is a chance I might finish early and work at this law firm an hour away,"
"That's great, baby!" Mitch squeezed his forearm. "How early are talking?"
"Like.. this year, early. I've advanced enough in my classes and my professors all think that making me stay an extra year would be a waste. All I have to do is ace these final exams, and pass my BAR exam, and then I'm hired at the law firm."
"Baby!" Mitch gasped. "That's incredible; I'm so proud of you,"
"Thank you, love. I just— I'm nervous I'm going to fail."
"You won't,"
"But I failed that test,"
"Because you're stressing yourself out. Trust me when I say that you've got this, Scott Hoying," Scott looked up and Mitch squeezed his hand. "You are so incredibly smart, that the only thing you should be worried about, is getting there on time."
Scott chuckled, "You really think I got this? That I won't fail?"
"You won't fail," Mitch assured him. "But, if you do have to retake the exams," he continued and Scott looked up, "you have me, Wes and Arden to help you study and get back on your feet. I'm not sure how much an infant can help you study," Scott smiled and Mitch squeezed his hand again. "But I promise we will always be here for you, rooting you on and helping you every step of the way."
Mitch nodded. "Always."


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