Scraps (Scomiche)

Craving (part 2)

A/N: Well.. someone wanted a part 2 and I couldn't keep it out of my mind. For all of you wondering, I have a Seeing Through update ready, it just need to be beta-ed. So hold your horses :)

Enjoy, I hope. :)

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Scott wakes up in a bed, naked, an arm draped around his torso, his head pounding. He sits up slowly, which is not easy when the grip around his body tighten, and suddenly feels a body pressing up on his side, a body he doesn't recognize. He shifts his gaze to dark hair that are a different shade of the ones he's used to, shoulders a little too big. The person in bed with him definitely is not Mitch.

He sprints out of bed, regretting the decision almost immediately when the room starts spinning. He gathers his boxers from the floor before slowly making his way to the bathroom he can see from the open door, and once there he makes sure to lock himself in. He leans into the sink, gripping it hard, and takes a good look of himself in the mirror. His hair are dishevelled, his eyes bloodshot, his face flushed and looking tired. His mind is fuzzy but he starts to remember what happened last night and how he ended up in a stranger's apartment.

He had been home drowning in his sorrow, unable to stop thinking of Mitch, who was out on a date. His mind couldn't stop picturing the boy he loved in someone else's arms, lost in pleasure that Scott wasn't giving him. He had been torn between staying home, waiting to know his fate, and going out to forget his pain. He didn't know what was worse - Mitch not coming home or coming home just to use him.

In the end, what happened was worse. He never knew it would actually happen, feeling it, the complete shatter of his heart.

Since Mitch had been out, he decided to go have some fun too, drowning his pain in alcohol. He didn't deserve it, laying on his couch waiting for the guillotine hanging over his head. When he came back home, he could hear noises coming from his - lover's? Friend's? Fuck toy's? God know which word is appropriate - room. He had had to lean on the entry door, his legs not working anymore. His ears were ringing with the sounds of pleasure filling the house, and he suddenly had the urge to burst in that room, shove that random guy out of their house, and make Mitch understand who he really belonged to - who loved him, who deserved him, who would give up everything in the entire world just to make him smile.

He had closed the door behind his back and had walked to the parking lot, before driving out to another bar - which, thinking about it now, had been such a stupid idea giving his emotional state. He had gone to a bar, drank until he couldn't understand what was going on, and had fallen for the cute guy now sleeping in the other room - a guy that, Scott was sure, probably had brown eyes and also a beard.

Scott splashes water on his face, trying to wake up and wash away the rush of nausea. He has to go away from that house and that stranger and.. and what? Going home hoping to not run into Mitch's date? Pretending, once again, to be perfectly okay with the situation, being a good friend until next time the boy will need him? Shove down his feelings for the sake of holding him even if it doesn't mean anything?

Scott cries.

Then he gathers his clothes and exits the apartment, driving back to the place that holds his heart and breaks it at the same time.

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He reaches the door and he's scared of what he'll find inside. He turns the handle and steps into his house, a rush of relief going through his vain when he doesn't hear any sounds. He just want to go in his room and take the longest shower ever, and that's exactly what he does. He relaxes for the first time since the night before, washing away the dirt and the shame - of what, he doesn't even know. He shouldn't feel like this, right? He didn't do anything wrong, but he can't help but feel like he cheated on Mitch, which is ridiculous. They are nothing.