The Pact (Scömìche)(completed)

11 Sweet

A/N 

early update, just because 🍓💟

"Food, people," Avi called. He brought the last plate of burgers over to join the chicken legs, vegetable kebabs, bread, salad, and relishes that filled the dining table. Sunshine filtered through clouds, and it was pleasantly warm as everyone took their places and started to serve themselves.

Scott sat opposite Avi, who carried on a lively conversation with Mitch next to him. Esther slid in next to Scott, and Kevin beside her with Kirstie bagging the last seat next to Mitch. Esther pointed out the gluten free options while Scott filled his plate, but sipped water rather than eat as he listened in on conversations. He tore his bread into small pieces and rolled the fragments into little balls, which he then hid under lettuce leaves. It occupied his hands while he wore a bland expression, and said nothing.

"This chicken is amazing, Avi," Kirstie said.

"Well, I only grilled it. Esther did the marinade."

"To your recipe, so I think you do deserve the credit," Esther said.

Avi raised a glass in salute, and Esther turned to Scott.

"Eat something, you'll feel better. I see what you're doing with that roll, so stop it."

Scott held up his hands. "Busted. I guess you're used to policing meal times."

"You bet I am. Now eat up young man, or there will be no dessert for you." Esther peered over her glasses at Scott, which made him smile.

"It all looks so good."

Scott had a drumstick and a vegetable kebab on his plate. He sliced at the meat slowly, but the first mouthful convinced him. It was delicious, and soon he was getting a second helping. He caught Avi's eye and waved a forkful of meat at him.

"This is – wow. Please teach me your ways."

Avi grinned and replied, "That's what we agreed."

Scott stood up with his water glass. "Everyone, a toast to the king of the grill, Avriel."

They raised their glasses and chorused, "All hail, King Avriel!"

Avi raised his hand. "Don't call me that, but thanks anyway."

Scott could not make eye contact with Mitch. It hurt his eyes, like looking directly at the sun. He sat, and concentrated on clearing his plate. He avoided the bread, knowing there would be pizza later, and probably cake if Kirstie had anything to do with it.

"Saw your pictures from the last Balenciaga show Mitch, you looked absolutely wonderful," Kirstie said.

"Well thank you. I had no idea you stalked me on Instagram." Mitch took a sip of water and went on. "I'm getting a little mature for all that, but it was an honour to be asked to walk."

"We're all getting older, but that doesn't mean we have to act our age, does it?" Kirstie broke the remnants of her roll into pieces as she spoke.

Esther replied, "Please don't tell me you're starting a food fight. Think of the clearing up after."

"Spoken like a true mom and older sister," Avi put in. "Age is just a number, I for one still feel twenty five inside."

"Says the one who was born a grandpa," Kevin retorted.

"Old man, don't bother me," Avi said, tossing a piece of bread in Kevin's direction.

"Hey, hey, settle down or there will be no dessert for any of you." Esther wagged a finger at the friends who were mock glaring at each other.

"Really, Avi? You're superfrowning me? Save it for your kids, I seen it too many times." Kevin held up a hand and turned his face away while Kirstie shook her head at them both.

The friendly bickering continued, but Scott ignored it. His gaze travelled from slender fingers adorned with silver rings, to unbuttoned pink cuffs, lined with red, that Mitch had turned back. He noted the bats and the soot sprite tattoos, but it was the skull that made him catch his breath. He rubbed the matching skull on his own finger.

The crystal tattoo was partly visible, and Scott reconstructed the rest of it in his mind. He couldn't bring to mind all the elements of the SpongeBob sleeve, and he swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. Once he'd known that body almost as well as his own. He caught himself recalling what he'd tried very hard to forget.

"Scott. Earth to Scott."

He blinked and looked at Kirstie across the table. "Sorry, what?"

"I said, we should play some games tonight. As long as it's not Twister. Do you have anything?"

Scott laughed. "Not much of a games player these days, but we can go get something if you want."

"Tell you what, leave that to me. I'll sort something out." She winked at him, and he felt better.

He risked a glance at Mitch and found he was waiting, a small smile on his face.

"Sounds like fun, don't you think?"

Scott nodded and took a breath. "As long as we don't play never have I ever. I don't think I could take too many shots."

Mitch's gaze didn't waver. "Oh, I think we've probably done most things, between us. Still," he arched a perfect eyebrow, "might be interesting to see who's got furthest down their bucket list."

"I guess. We'll see what Kirstie comes up with."

Scott wanted to run, but brown eyes pinned him to his seat. The others cleared the table and brought out fruit, including some chocolate dipped strawberries from the night before.

"We're saving cake for tonight, but I found these in your fridge. Open up." Kirstie brought a fruit near Scott's mouth.

He dragged his eyes away from Mitch's amused expression to Kirstie, who opened her own mouth to encourage him as if he were a child. He obediently parted his lips, and was assailed by sweet, slightly tart juices along with the smoothness of chocolate. He closed his eyes and savoured it all.

"Mmm, delicious. More." He pointed to his mouth and Kirstie fed him two more before popping one in her own mouth.

She moaned with pleasure. "That is sinfully good. And it's two of the food groups, which is even better."

"Take it easy, Kirstie. It's only food." Mitch reached over for a strawberry but Kirstie whipped the plate away.

"Nope, I'm in charge of these." She went over to Mitch and said, "Only food, huh? You know the drill." She held up one fruit in manicured fingers.

Scott watched Mitch first shake his head, then close his eyes, tilt his head and open his mouth. With his hands clasped on the table, he looked as if he were receiving some blessed sustenance. With that thought, Scott got up. He muttered something about finding more napkins. He knew he was lying to himself.

He couldn't watch Mitch's face when he bit into the strawberry and let its sweet juice run down his throat, when the chocolate melted silky smooth on his tongue, when he scrunched his eyes and swallowed and licked his lips and asked for more.

So he walked away.