One and Only ( Scomiche ) - #Wattys2016

Late Night

A/N: I need to be out in like 15 minutes and I'm still in my pjs so here's the update ( FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE IT'S NOT THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT WHOOOHO) and I'll edit whatever is needed when I come back. It's exactly 2500 words I'm amazing. Hopefully not too boring. I'll see you after my exam in 10 days ( if I update earlier, yell at me thanks. ) 

Bye <3

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The ride home was accompanied by nothing but silence. Given the weird turn of events that had hit them that night, Mitch thought that he shouldn't have been that surprised. He had no idea what Scott had endured during the couple of hours that they had spent at the police station, since he had not been allowed to go with him - not even when the blond had asked for his company, pleading the officer with his big blue eyes. However, from what little informations he had gathered during the brief conversation that had took place earlier, Mitch had a pretty accurate idea.

He had known that something was wrong by the troubled look on Scott's face when he had finally emerged from the small office. His best friend had become a master in hiding his emotions when he wanted to, and he was able to fool basically everyone if he really tried. There had been times when he had fooled Mitch too, despite knowing each other for almost twenty years - he figured it came with being someone's best friend for so long. For how well you think you know them, they know you as well.

Although Scott had never wanted to lie to Mitch about anything in all the years of their friendship, his perfected skill had come quite handy when feelings had started to slowly change inside of him and he had forced himself to wear a mask of normalcy around the brunet, still unaware of the reciprocity of those feelings. Mitch had caught a couple of hints, here and there, but his own heart was confused, and he had decided to not pry and let things be, sure that sooner or later everything would fix itself. And he was right.

Now, though, it didn't matter whether Scott was trying to hide something or not, because it was obvious that something had hit him during his interrogation. Mitch didn't know if it was the details of the death of a young woman, or if they had told him something else. Whatever it was, Scott was shaken, his lips tightly pressed to draw a thin line, giving his face a severe look that Mitch wasn't used to.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, which reminded him once again how upset Scott was - because very few were the times when the blond would let him drive, not trusting anyone but himself when it came to his own car. And yet, the man had simply handed him the keys, head hung down and eyes fixated on the ground, walking out of the police station without looking back. Mitch knew better than ask him, aware that his friend might need some time to gather his thoughts before explaining to him - but still, it was quite frustrating.

Thankfully it had stopped raining, so the ride home was shorter than earlier, and Mitch almost released a sigh of relief as he spotted their home, the familiar building calming his beating heart. The feeling of comfort only increased as they stepped out of the car and entered the house, the familiar smell and the warmth instantly making him feel better. It seemed to have the same effect on Scott, his broad shoulder relaxing from their stiffness the moment they walked into the living room.

That was the moment when Mitch realized he couldn't just let the night end like that. He didn't want to push Scott, understanding that the blond might need more than a couple of minutes of quiet, but also knowing that if he didn't talk soon enough, he would end up bottling up everything he was feeling, and it would be even harder to let everything out. It wasn't the best idea, talking about it when they were tired and obviously upset, but Mitch had enough trust on their bond to hope that they could do it.

"I'm gonna make myself some hot tea," he announced, sliding his jacket off his shoulder and hanging it on the coat rack in the entry. Next came the shoes, and he felt ten times better as soon as he was able to walk barefoot, almost like feeling the warm hardwood floor under his feet reminded him that he was inside their house, at home, a space that belonged only to the two of them. He walked towards the kitchen, watching from the corner of his eyes as Scott shimmied out of his own coat. "Do you want some?"