The Pact (Scömìche)(completed)

28 Distractions

Thanks so, so much to everyone who voted for me in the Pentatonix Fanfiction awards here; https://www.wattpad.com/391570991-the-pentatonix-fanfiction-awards-2017-open

Also 6.6K reads?? WOW!! That's seriously amazing, thank you all. I appreciate every read, vote and comment. They mean more than you know.

Now, Scott and Mitch try to get on the same page, but will past hurts get in their way?

Scott ran. Feet hit the treadmill in a staccato rhythm, speed a little higher, and his breathing stuttered. Feet pounding, heart pounding, fists clenched, and everything slightly out of sync. He stumbled and only just caught himself before falling. He jumped off the belt, cursing. Sweat stung his eyes and he scrubbed a towel over his head and neck. He grabbed his gloves and punched. Left, right, left, he attacked the bag and eventually collapsed against it, breathing heavily.

Despite his protesting muscles a ball of energy remained knotted inside his chest, dynamite wrapped in eggshells and housed in glass. He dropped the gloves on the floor, peeled off his sodden gear and stood under a torrent of water. He nudged the temperature down to cool skin that was overheated and paper-thin.

Meditation was impossible. Contentment was a distant memory. One last blast of cold water, a veneer of ice to seal the cracks, and he was done.

It took a Google search to identify the lyrics Mitch had sent, and they still sat heavy in his gut. Scott gritted his teeth and answered emails, concentrating on the screen. His jaw ached, and he couldn't eat, and it was all his fault. Outside, light drizzle fell under a brooding sky.

After an hour he grabbed his songbook and flicked through the pages.

You think I'm wrong, you think I'm scared

You knocked me down again

Been gone so long and you don't care

And now we can't be friends

You let me go, left me all alone

That's okay cause I'm better off on my own

Don't think I'll give you one more chance

To leave me lost without a glance

His thumbs flew over the screen as he typed the lyrics and pressed send. Have fun Googling that, asshole.

He got up and paced the floor, chewing on his lip, unable to focus. His brain short-circuited, filled with a stream of curse words. If he didn't get out he was going to explode. Eleven a.m. in LA, and he didn't know where Mitch was or even what time zone he was in. Scott was adrift, and he couldn't see land any more.

***

Much later, Scott stumbled through his front door after wrestling with the lock.

"Oops." He giggled and dropped his keys on the hall table.

"Wow, nice place." His shorter companion helped him over to the living room. "I could get used to this."

"C'mere and get used to this," Scott slurred, dropping back on the couch. The dark haired man smiled and hovered over Scott, pressing hot kisses to his neck.

Scott closed his eyes, brain finally spinning in neutral, and no discernible emotion messing with his head. Plus Daniel, or Davis, whatever his name was, definitely had skills. Scott had watched him show off his moves and a very slappable ass. He responded to Scott's hands on his hips with enthusiasm, and before long they were making out in the back of the club. Taking him home was inevitable, the most natural thing in the world.