Hey babes, welcome back!
Have you seen the clips from last night's debut Superfruit concert? have you seen them??
SF are so, so fabulous, unapologetically themselves; singing about love on their own terms; Scott's waving the pride flag; they smile and sing and dance and, well, they are everything we need. I feel like a proud mother, truly. 🍓👯💖✨
Winter just won't let go this year. It's getting real old, and we didn't even get that much snow here. One day it's all sun and spring bulbs, the next it's bitter winds and ice.
So to distract from all that, or whatever stormy weather you're enduring IRL, here's our guys again. Did I say less angst? I did. Did I say no angst? C'mon, did you read The Pact? 😁
Scott and Mitch have to be clear about their goals.
*****
Thinking back later, Scott realised it had started a while before. They were both busy, and he had a head full of plans and dreams and songs so he didn't notice anything different. He blamed himself for that.
Mitch complained of feeling sick during lunch with Candice and Austin. He went to the bathroom and was gone for some time. Scott was just about to go in search of him when he returned looking pale.
"You know, I think I'll head home early."
Scott stood up and took his hand. "We can leave if—"
"No, it's okay, you stay. My Uber's here." He squeezed Scott's hand. "Sorry guys, catch you another time."
"All right, Mitch?"
"Yeah, just tired I think."
Candice nodded. "Take some ibuprofen and feel better soon, okay?"
"I will." He shrugged on his coat and left.
When Scott returned after lunch, the house was quiet.
"Mitchy, I'm home."
There was no answer. Scott eventually found Mitch asleep in his own bedroom, the blinds closed. He tucked the covers around him, left a glass of water and two tablets on the nightstand, and decided to let him sleep it off.
Mitch appeared in the office around five o'clock.
"Hey."
Scott turned in his chair and held out his hands. He knew better than to comment that Mitch looked tired, with dark smudges under his eyes.
"Hey baby. Feeling better after your sleep?"
Mitch didn't move. "I guess."
Scott patted his thighs. "You're a long way away, come on over here and sit with me." He smiled, but Mitch didn't respond immediately. Instead he stared at the ground.
"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."
A silent minute ticked by. Water streamed around them, running in little rivers over Mitch's bowed head and dripping from his forehead.
"We can go back to bed if you like, or stay here, I just, please Mitchy I won't do anything you don't want."
"Okay." He never looked up.
"I can?"
"Okay."
Mitch shivered, so Scott turned off the water and wrapped him in a warm towel. Scott dried Mitch's hair, hardly daring to breathe. He allowed Scott to steer him back to bed, and put on the tee shirt and boxers he was given without comment. Scott dressed similarly.
Mitch turned away, and Scott spooned him. It was like a thousand times before, and it was not the same. Mitch was not nestling back against his chest, and the minute distance was a chasm into which Scott's heart fell. Mitch's breathing evened out, and Scott stared at the neck that bore no traces of his attention.
"I love you," he said. No answer came. He closed his eyes and swallowed his tears.
Scott woke alone, stretched across the big bed. A heavy weight sat in his gut. He pulled on sweatpants and went downstairs. The kitchen was empty, so he made fresh coffee and went in search of Mitch.
"There you are."
Mitch sat on the couch outside, legs tucked under him and staring at the sky. Scott put the mugs on the table and went inside to the office. He returned with one of his hoodies and passed it over, then sat on another couch. Mitch looked up, his face expressionless, and then pulled it on. They sipped coffee in silence.
"Mitchy what's the matter? Did I do something?"
"Not really."
"We agreed to talk things out, so we could fix what's wrong."
"Haven't been doing much talking lately." Mitch twisted his mug. "I know you're busy with the album and everything."
Scott put down his mug. "Never too busy for you, baby. Never too busy for us, that's what all this is for, right?"
"Is it." The words were sharp.
"What? What do you mean, of course it is—"
"What about me, Scott? I just want to be happy, I don't ask for much but I don't get it. I try to keep up with you. I've been auditioning, did you remember that?"
Scott stared, thinking quickly. "Of course I do." The details were a little hazy, if he was honest.
Mitch laughed, but it was a bitter sound. "Do you. Well I didn't get the last two parts I went for. But you wouldn't know that, because you didn't ask."
"Fuck, I'm sorry—"
"And I can't even get angry because you're doing this for us, but you forget I'm doing things for us too. And then..." He bit his lip and shook his head, wringing his hands. He wasn't wearing his ring.
Scott watched in horror. This was a bad dream. Everything was going wrong and he needed to fix it. "And then?"
"Doesn't matter."
"Jesus Mitch, it obviously does matter. Talk to me." His heart fluttered, and the coffee tasted sour in his mouth. "Please, I'm begging you." He knelt in front of Mitch and took his hands, waiting for him to look up.
Mitch stared ahead, his expression mask-like. "The wedding."
Scott's blood froze in his veins.
What?
No no no no
He opened his mouth, closed it again. His stomach lurched and sank. He forced the words out of a mouth gone dry with fear. "What about our wedding?"
"Sometimes I wonder if it's going to happen because we – we never talk about it or make real plans and..." Mitch's lip trembled. He took a breath.
"I feel like I'm not good enough and you don't want someone like that, you want someone who's happy and successful and I..." He gulped. "I'm a sad failure."
Tears streamed down his face and Scott's heart cracked in two.
"Oh God, no that's not true – you're not - I'm sorry baby, so sorry I never meant to hurt you."
He sat by Mitch and gathered him up tight, rubbing his back as they cried together. His heart cracked into smaller pieces with each sound Mitch made. He was the worst fiancé ever.
How had he let it go so far?
"Mitchy. You're all I want, forever, don't cry. My angel, I'm sorry, forgive me."
Mitch mumbled against his chest. He didn't want to hear, but he needed to hear it.
"What you say?"
"Scared, I was scared it was all going wrong again. I can't do this without you, Scott."
"You don't, you never have to, baby boy. You're perfect and I'm a fucking idiot."
He'd been blind to the little signs. He pulled back and braced himself for the sight of Mitch's puffy face, eyes red-rimmed. He'd done that, and he hated himself for it.
"You are my world. You don't have to work, you don't have to do anything. As long as we're together, nothing else matters." He kissed his hot, damp forehead. "I'd marry you tomorrow at the courthouse, but we both know you want the biggest gay wedding ever seen."
After a pause Mitch whispered, "The gayest."
Scott was overjoyed to see the ghost of a smile on Mitch's lips. "There, that's better. I wanted to marry you since forever."
"Since when?" His voice was tiny.
"Well let's see." Scott thought back. "After Mario's party, I knew I loved you but I was scared to say it. When we Skyped the others they were joking about weddings, but it wasn't a joke to me." Scott smiled at the memory. "And then you answered 'I do' to some random question. It was all I could think about."
"Really?" Mitch sniffed.
"Really." He leaned in and touched their lips together. "I can't wait to say it for real. I love you Mitch Grassi, I do."
A smile spread over Mitch's face, like the sun emerging from clouds. "And I still love you, even though you're a fucking idiot." He punched Scott's chest lightly.
"But I'm your fucking idiot. Am I forgiven?"
"Not so fast. I think you have some convincing to do." The sassy raised brow was beautiful to behold.
Scott grinned. "I know." He cupped Mitch's face in his hands and watched his eyes flutter closed before kissing his nose and lips. They both smiled into the kiss. Then Scott stood and scooped Mitch up into his arms, rejoicing when he laid his head down and relaxed.
Upstairs, he removed the hoodie and sweatpants, and Scott followed him into bed where they tangled their legs together and kissed again. Eventually Mitch yawned. He turned, settled into little spoon and linked hands. He sank against Scott's chest with a sigh and fell asleep in the next breath.
Scott measured the weight of Mitch in his arms, his steady breaths and the beat of his heart, and slowly his fear receded. His own heart needed time to be whole again after the shock and upset of their fight. Mitch had been struggling and he was too distracted to notice, but he was going to make it up to him. While Mitch might forgive him eventually, he would take longer to forgive himself.
He drifted between waking and sleep, planning how to redeem himself. Mitch was his number one priority, and his last thought before he surrendered to sleep.
***
Mitch woke with a scratchy throat and puffy, itchy eyes. He rolled over and saw a bottle of water on his nightstand, so he sat up and emptied it in one long swallow. He dragged himself into the bathroom. There was a pink note stuck to the mirror.
I'm sorry ♡xx ♡︎
He smiled, then washed his face and brushed his teeth. Coffee was essential. On the back of the door he found another note.
I'll make it up to you xx
More notes graced the stairs.
I can be clueless sometimes
But I love you lots ♡
Please forgive me
I just want to make you happy ♡
If I'm not in the kitchen, I'll be back soon
Ti amo xoxoxo
That was his soft boy all right.
Mitch collected the notes on his way to the kitchen where music played quietly. Scott stood at the hob, humming as he cooked. Mitch sneaked up behind him on silent bare feet, then put his arms around his waist.
"Turn it up, babe."
"Didn't want to wake you. Remote is over there."
"Not letting go." He nuzzled the strong muscles in Scott's back and breathed in his scent, then slipped one hand under the front of his tee shirt. Scott's abs twitched then relaxed as he rubbed circles.
"I hope you're hungry."
"Mmm." He dipped a finger below the waistband of Scott's boxers and felt his little intake of breath. "For pancakes? Definitely." He moved away, turned up the volume, and sat at the table.
Scott poured coffee and brought dishes of bacon, scrambled eggs, mushrooms and fruit.
"I have something for you."
The last dish was a stack of heart shaped pancakes. Mitch shook his head with a smile. That was sweet of him. "Thanks babe."
"And I have this." Scott went into the utility and returned with a potted orchid, which he placed in the centre of the table. Frilled purple flowers edged and spotted with white created an exotic effect.
"It's beautiful."
"It reminds me of you, but you're more gorgeous than any flower." Scott knelt next to Mitch and took his hands. Pulled in by Scott's gaze of sincere love, he drowned in an ocean of blue.
"Orchid flowers mean feminine beauty, but the roots represent virility and masculine strength as well, did you know that? And that's your duality, and I love you for it. I am more than lucky to have you, I'm blessed. And if I forget to tell you that on the regular, please remind me."
Mitch glanced at Scott's lips, then back to his eyes. Such a hopeless romantic, and he adored him.
He didn't want any distance between them any more. He was still sad about some things, but being separated from Scott only sharpened the pain.
"Kiss me."
Scott closed the gap. In between soft kisses he murmured sorry and forgive me and love you and the food is getting cold.
Mitch broke away, chuckling. "You're right. Starving and caffeine deprived is a dangerous combination."
They enjoyed a leisurely brunch for the first time in weeks, chatting and laughing. That afternoon they walked on the beach at El Matador, breathing fresh air. There was no cave to hide in, but that didn't matter as they strolled hand in hand next to the ocean.
"We need a little break, away from it all. You need a break."
"Sounds interesting, but when will we fit that in?"
"Relax." Scott squeezed his hand. "I fixed the mad schedule and I'm whisking you away this weekend."
"Oh?" A little spark jumped in Mitch's chest. "Where are we going, what shall I wear?"
"Not far." Soft lips brushed his ear, and he shivered. "And not much, hopefully." Scott's low tone always did things for Mitch.
"Yes daddy." His blood rushed south and he savoured the feeling. It was exciting to have something to look forward to.
Later he posted a picture from their first trip to El Matador on Instagram. In it he leaned close to Scott, smiling with the sea and rocks in the background. It was a favourite shot and he captioned it time for R&R with my man. Happiness shone in their faces and he wondered how it had taken him so long to believe it.
That evening Mitch enjoyed delicious chicken stir-fry cooked by Scott, with a glass of Chardonnay. Domestic Scott really worked well for him; he didn't even have to load the dishwasher. Afterwards they sprawled on the couch together watching a box set on Netflix, but Mitch wasn't paying much attention. Time to reconnect.
Mitch got up, supposedly to pee, but actually to make sure necessities were within reach if needed. He stood between Scott and the screen.
Scott waved him away. "Baby, I can't really see."
"You will."
He took off his tee shirt and stretched. One hand teased at his groin, the other at his nipple. He'd been more or less half-hard since the beach, thinking about hot mouth and strong hands and being stretched open. It had been too long.
He opened his eyes and stared at Scott, who was now sitting upright and licking his lips. Mitch trailed his fingers over his torso and thighs before dropping his zipper. Scott stroked his growing bulge and Mitch copied him, squeezing himself hard until a moan fell from his open mouth.
"I was supposed to be treating you," Scott muttered.
"Oh you will," Mitch breathed. "This is me forgiving you, at least a little."
"Oh. How do you want that forgiveness?"
Mitch stepped out of his pants and boxers. He was naked but far from vulnerable. "Down your throat first."
"Yes ma'am." His voice was husky and he did not break eye contact.
"Show me some skin."
Scott stripped, revealing inked biceps and hard muscle. He ignored his stiffening cock and dropped to his knees. He looked up at Mitch, eyes dark, and licked his lips again. Mitch nodded, trying not to let the anticipation show on his face. Scott gripped the globes of his ass with big warm hands, and toyed with the tip of Mitch's cock until he gasped and swayed. Then he took him down into the volcano.
Mitch's eyes rolled back. "Fuck yes." He gripped Scott's hair and tugged hard. Scott moaned around his cock, and kept going while slipping a long finger down his crack. Mitch panted and cursed as Scott backed off a little then redoubled his efforts, repeating the cycle and taking him higher, closer each time. Mitch almost lost control, but when Scott choked slightly the fog cleared a little. He would not take out his anger on Scott's mouth; he'd been there too many times before.
He held still and focused on the fingertips digging into his butt in counterpoint to the swirl of a hot tongue as Scott worked him like it was his job. His balls tightened, heat burned in his stomach, and he was there. Scott hollowed his cheeks and took the first pulse, then pulled off in time for Mitch to see the white drops spatter his lips and cheek. He licked his lips clean, watching Mitch with hooded eyes and waiting.
"Fuck, you're good," Mitch mumbled.
"Will that be all?"
He managed to wave a hand. "For now."
Scott nodded, stood and reached for his sweatpants, pulling them on over his still hard cock, then left to wash his face. While he was gone Mitch put his boxers on. He loved obedient Scott.
Scott came back and reached for his shirt.
"No, leave it off," Mitch said. He was hungry for skin contact.
"Fine by me."
They returned to watching their programme cuddled together. Occasionally he palmed Scott to see if he was still hard. The fourth time he did it, Scott groaned.
"Okay there, babe?" Mitch asked innocently.
"Sure, just wondering if I was completely forgiven yet, or if I should deal with my problem alone." He kept his eyes on the screen.
Mitch laughed. "Your self-control is impressive." He slid his hand inside the sweatpants and pumped slowly, swiping his thumb over the head. "Let me help."
"You are a tease – ahh – and you need to stop."
"Yes, but no." He gave the hot flesh two more strokes and removed his hand.
Scott lay back, panting. "Whatever you want it's yours, just stop torturing me."
"But it's so much fun." He tugged at Scott's wrist. "Time to go."
Minutes later Mitch was face down on their bed, wailing as Scott held his hips and ploughed him without mercy. He scrabbled at the sheets and moaned in time with the slap of flesh against flesh. He wanted exactly this, to be fucked fast and hard, stretched and filled completely. He wanted Scott, missed his strength and warmth. And the cock that was currently driving him insane with pleasure.
"Gorgeous, baby, want you so bad." Scott growled in his ear and nipped his neck.
Scott continued to hit his prostate until he whimpered, but Mitch held on until Scott released, driving into him over and over with a roar. It didn't take many strokes from Scott's big hand to have Mitch coming for the second time, sparks dancing before his eyes.
They collapsed in a heap.
"God, I love you." Scott kissed Mitch's neck and rolled onto his back. "Let's not fight any more. Just tell me if I'm oblivious, because I get too caught up in stuff."
Mitch lay on his side, watching the rapid rise and fall of Scott's chest as he got his breath back. He was more than satisfied; he was safe and cared for.
"Love you more, babe." He put his arm over Scott's waist and fell instantly asleep.
***
Scott got up to the bathroom and cleaned up, then washed Mitch with gentle hands but he didn't stir. In repose Mitch's features softened, and the frown lines Scott hadn't really noticed before smoothed out. Once again he gave thanks for this wonderful human in his life. Operation Redemption phase two could commence.
He had rented a beautiful oceanfront house in Santa Barbara for the weekend, all glass balconies and wonderful views over the water. The cost was no barrier, and guaranteed privacy to do as they pleased, wherever they pleased. The plan was to switch off their phones for twenty-four hours. He didn't think he could manage more than twelve without checking in, but the idea was there.
They would walk along the beach at sunset, order food in, drink champagne and kiss a lot. There hadn't been nearly enough kisses lately. Hurried pecks could give way to leisurely exploration of Mitch's considerable charms, and being explored in return.
He enjoyed being forgiven, but he enjoyed making love to his fiancé most of all. When they returned, meeting a wedding planner was next on the list. Time to deliver on his promise.
++++
It's easy to lose sight of the important things. Big issues always start small.
But they're happy again, and that's a good thing. Next time we'll see just how happy they are, mixing it up a bit... but I'm getting ahead of myself. 😉
Next week, the last fun instalment of Lean on Me, keeping the Mavi flag flying.
Vote, share and comment to make the words grow.
And remember winter always ends, eventually. 💙
Stay flawless, babes! 💖✨