Scent of Love (Scomiche fanfiction)

Confirmation

N/A

We're nearing the end, guys!

The kiss was intoxicating, even more so than the alcohol had been earlier, and Mitch would have gotten lost in it, had it not been for the gradually increasing pain in his chest. He knew it all too well, had experienced it too many times to misread it. As Scott's lips worked against his own, he was being consumed by guilt.

The adrenaline from a couple minutes ago was slowly wearing off and what kicked in was a suffocating feeling of regret. What were they doing? What was he doing? He shouldn't have allowed Scott, shouldn't have come to the airport. He kept scolding himself in his head as one of Scott's hands slipped beneath his shirt, fingers trailing over the skin of his back. His other hand was firmly pressed against the side of his neck, and Mitch hated how that little touch was stimulating enough to raise goosebumps all over his body.

A part of him wanted nothing more than to have Scott rip all his clothes off him before pushing him to the bed and taking him over and over until he'd be too spent to stay awake. But the other part of him, the one that thought with the brain rather than the penis, wanted him gone, and fast. Still, he let Scott kiss him breathless, and it wasn't until he inhaled deeply through his nose that his world came crushing down, all terrifying feelings hitting him at once – guilt, remorse, fear, disgust. That scent he loved and hated simultaneously never failed to drive him insane. It also never failed to remind him of who Scott was and how his recklessness had ruined his life. What on earth was he thinking? How could he... towards his own parents... how could he?

He stopped kissing back but it took Scott a while to notice. When he did though, he pulled back almost immediately, eyes boring holes into Mitch's face.

"Okay," Mitch managed to get out, making sure to sound as unfazed as possible, hard though it was. "I'll have to take care of stuff now. So."

He could swear Scott's eyes couldn't be any wider at that point. His arms were still loosely wrapped around him as if he wasn't sure whether to hold onto him or let go. Mitch was kind enough to make that decision for him, sighing as he struggled to untangle himself from Scott's hold.

"Would you just let go? I need to use the bathroom. You can see yourself out."

"Wait, what?"

Scott seemed so confused it was almost heartbreaking. For a moment there, Mitch hesitated. He could still laugh it off and pretend it was all fine. He could bury his hands in Scott's hair, pull him down and let the kiss continue until they'd end up tangled up on his bed, panting and needy. He could still try to appease his conscience and make the best of what they had right then, let their bodies grind against each other and their hands explore. But in all honesty, as much as he wanted Scott's mouth and hands on him, he found himself unable to fight against the feeling of extreme uneasiness, creeping up on him gradually, yet persistently. The truth was, after what just happened, he felt like a dirty slut.

"Well, you got what you wanted so I believe we're done." It took an actual effort to make himself sound cold and indifferent towards the very person he so desperately wanted to hold onto. What certainly helped was the recollection of Scott's carefree tone when he'd first suggested that they get drunk and embrace whatever happens. Fine, it was what they had both wanted and the tension between them had been almost palpable for weeks now, but Scott knew the circumstances all too well. In the end, he turned out to be an egoist who only cared about his own needs. In the end, he only wanted a mouth on his cock.

"Mitch, what's going on?" Scott inquired, a set of tiny creases appearing on his forehead as he frowned. His hold on Mich loosened enough for the boy to finally free himself from his arms. "Is anything wrong?"