"Well of course they're sad, but they're so charged. I fucking love breakup albums." Mitch rested his hand against the counter, sighing when the cool marble met his skin. His wrist was sore from exertion and he deserved a break anyway. He'd been beating for what felt like forever and he clearly wasn't getting very far on his own. "I still don't know if I can forgive you for what Jay-Z did to Beyoncé."
"What?!" Scott laughed, prying the beater from Mitch's limp hand and taking over the task of attempting to blend the thick concoction in the bowl into a something resembling cookie dough. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Mitch smiled as he watched Scott mix the contents of the bowl. He hadn't even been at it for half a minute but it was already beginning to actually look like it was supposed to- it had been so thick that Mitch couldn't move the beater properly, his arm getting sore before the ingredients had even fully integrated themselves into the mixture. He clapped and cheered Scott on as he poured the remaining chocolate chips in and began mixing them into the dough. "You're so muscly and strong! Mix that shit real good, daddy, your girl wants those in the oven ASAP."
Scott rolled his eyes but continued working. "Can you get the baking tray ready and explain why you're mad at me because Jay-Z committed the worlds biggest fuck up? I haven't done anything!" Mitch smirked, bouncing away from him and over to the pantry.
He'd just been messing with him but he liked that Scott was playing along. They so rarely had fights that he couldn't even remember one that wasn't about where they wanted to eat and if Scott wanted to make a problem out of nothing, he was more than happy to join in. Not only did Mitch love teasing him, but he liked that their little fake fights made him feel like those normal couples with ups and downs in contrast to their reality of almost exclusively ups. He didn't mind the accompanying sexual tension, either.
"Well..." he began, fumbling around for the wax paper before skipping back to the oven where Scott was still trying to beat the lumps out of the dough. "If the album was really about them, that means he cheated on her. He cheated on Beyoncé, Scott."
Scott wiped the beater off and set it in the sink, walking over to where Mitch was spraying oil over the wax paper he'd fitted into the pan. "Okay...and what does that have to do with me? Why am I unforgivable again?" He knew Mitch was playing, despite the weirdly heavy subject matter, so he decided to humor him. The boy seemed way too happy to actually be bothered and he was acting so bubbly and cute right now that Scott was tempted to tickle him and make him smile even wider. The boy peeked up at him with a coy expression, trying his best to look serious as he plopped the first spoonful of cookie dough on the pan.
"Well, if Beyoncé- a literal goddess, might I remind you- can get cheated on then I sure as hell can too! I'm just being mad in advance, baby, it only makes sense" he explained, as if his silly accusation followed any form of logic. Mitch shook his head thoughtfully and sighed, fingering another glob of dough into the pan. "See, what I'm doing is looking out for myself. Any day now I might come home from rehearsals and walk into, like, you and Avi fucking in our bed. You fucking Avi, in our bed! Or you getting fucked by Avi? Wait, which way do you think that would go?"
Scott couldn't hold back his chuckle, setting the oven to preheat before sneaking behind Mitch and wrapping his arms around his waist, resting his chin lightly on Mitch's head as he watched the boy systematically spoon dollops of cookie dough onto the pan. "There are literally hundreds of reasons why that's never gonna happen. Want me skim over just a few, you feisty diva?"
"Well, yeah. You clearly have some explaining to do, mister."
Scott could practically hear the smile in Mitch's voice and rolled his eyes. "First of all Avi- who, if I remember correctly, exclusively likes girls- he and I both rehearse with you. Tell me how you're gonna come back from work and catch two of your coworkers already in your apartment, mid-fuck? Acting like Pentatonix is a one man show- ow!" He flinched when a sticky spoon hit the back of his hand. "What was that for? That hurt!"
"Sorry, baby" Mitch brought Scott's hand to his mouth to lick the traces of dough off of his skin before resting it back against his waist. "This spoon just kinda flings itself against people when they make fun of me. Anyway, continue. You're still in trouble."
Scott nodded. "Right. Well, second, that's not gonna happen because I love you so much and wouldn't ever cheat on you. You know how important loyalt- what the fuck, Mitch! What was that for!" He groaned, his skin stinging where Mitch had hit him with the spoon yet again. "That really did hurt this time! Kiss it!" He raised his hand up to Mitch's lips expectantly, waiting.
Mitch huffed and complied before shoving the hand back to his hip and shifting his attention to the cookie tray. "Okay, mister 'loves me sooo much' and 'wouldn't ever cheat on me.' First of all, ew. That's gross. Second, that sounds exactly like what Jay-Z would say to Beyoncé before cheating on her. I don't know, Scotty, I feel like you're just slipping away from me." He had to bite his lip at that last line. This all sounded so fake and stupid that he could barely keep a straight face.
"What, because Beyoncé got cheated on?!"
"Yup."
"You're ridiculous."
Mitch sighed dramatically. "Look at you, insulting me even though I've been nothing but loyal and loving to you. I'm so hurt. At least I have these cookies." He wiped his hands on a paper towel and admired the neat distribution of cookie dough spanning the tray, pleased with the outcome. He shook his head, trying not to smile as he looked up at Scott wistfully. "It's just gonna be me and these high-calorie bitches for life, isn't it Scott? You're probably gonna leave me before they even come out of the oven. Give me another reason why you won't go messing around behind my back. Your arguments so far have been pretty weak, buddy."
"Buddy?!" Scott mimicked a hurt expression. "You just want compliments, don't you, Mitch? Is that what you're doing?" The brunette's hand flew straight to his heart, feigning shock. "Scott! How dare you turn this around. Trying to make it look like I'm fishing for complements...what's wrong with you?! I just want to know why you're planning to cheat on me!" The amount of concentration it was taking him not to burst into laughter was almost not worth it. This wasn't going to last very long.
"Oh my god, I'm not! Stop saying that!"
"Would you hook up with Beyoncé behind my back?"
"No!" Scott almost yelled, spinning the boy around so he was facing him. This part Scott didn't even need to pretend for. "I'm your boyfriend, Mitch, not Beyoncé's or anyone else's. Don't be silly. I would never."
"What!?" Mitch squinted his eyes, waiting for Scott's eyes to betray him. "It's Beyoncé! Even I would cheat on me with Beyoncé, and I'm entirely gay whereas you're only halfway there." He insisted, shoving a finger to Scott's chest accusingly. "I'm not buying it."
Scott shrugged, the firmness in his eyes not wavering. "Alrighty, Becky. I still wouldn't though. Love you too much." He leaned down to kiss Mitch's cheek. "You're more special and beautiful than her in my eyes anyway. I just don't see the appeal of cheating on you with anyone. Even queen Bey."
Mitch blushed. He'd thought this would be a quick little play fight but it was getting really sappy really quickly. "Gross. You didn't even let me win. You're such a kiss-ass."
"You can kiss my ass, loser" Scott winked.
"You can suck my dick, braggart."
"Fine" Scott challenged. "Get it out, then."
Mitch's coy demeanor faltered a little, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Scott looked at him expectantly, glancing at his crotch before looking back into his eyes.
"Get it out?" Mitch repeated, confused.
Scott dropped to his knees, grabbing Mitch by the hips and pushing him until the backs of his legs hit the kitchen cabinets. "God, do I have to do everything my damn self in this relationship?" He growled, aggressively undoing Mitch's belt and tugging his zipper down. He peeked up to find a surprised Mitch leaning against the kitchen counter staring back as Scott yanked his pants down to his ankles. He tried to focus on staying serious despite his immense pleasure at taking Mitch by surprise. "All day I stay home and raise our children, do the fucking...the dishes, the carpet, file our taxes and fake fight you to create sexual tension and you can't even take your fucking pants off your damn self! I might as well-"
He burst out in giggles, unable to keep up the act anymore, Mitch joining soon after. He dropped down and pressed a kiss to Scott's forehead before standing back up and leaning back against the counter. "Not bad! That was a pretty realistic fight! Good boy!" he cooed. He wove his thin fingers through the smiling blond's hair and nudged his head closer to his boxer clad crotch. "Those nonexistent kids you raised would be so proud of us for arguing like a real couple. Now kiss it."
Scott didn't need to be asked twice, leaning in between giggles and pressing kisses along the outline of Mitch's arousal. He rubbed and nipped at it until he felt Mitch's length thicken and push more and more against his boxers, running his hands up and down Mitch's thighs. "You're enjoying that, aren't you, Scotty? Are you only dating me for my pretty cock? I knew something was off." He tilted Scott's head up to meet his eyes and almost melted at the look he was giving him. He knew whatever was about come out of his mouth was going to be sappy as hell and almost regretted teasing him. He wasn't in the mood to get emotional. He was having too much fun.
"I'm dating you for you, Mitchie. For your beautiful soul and heart and the immense capacity of love you hold for me. I'm dating you because I'm still head over heels for you, and I don't think that's changing any time soon, sweetheart." He lifted up Mitch's shirt to press a kiss to his tummy before lowering his lips back against the bulge in his boxers and winking up at him. "This is a nice plus though."
"So sweet," Mitch smirked down at him, snaking his length out of his boxers. "I love you too, darling. Now suck my dick, please. If you finish me before the oven finishes preheating, I might even return the favor."