Scomiche Oneshots

ballerina

**something short and sweet. liked the idea of it, maybe a part two if anyone's interested. update: its dumb.

Scott slammed his bedroom door shut angrily and collapsed on his bed.

He had just been humiliated at school. His–now–ex boyfriend told a lot of the other football players about his fetishes and they all made fun of him to his face.

Hugging a pillow tightly, he began to cry. Why did he even think it was a good idea to date Gregory in the first place? Kevin even warned Scott that the boy was trouble, but he didn't listen.

The only thing that ever made scott feel better was a jewelry box of his mother's before she passed away. It had a little ballerina in the middle that would spin when wound up. Scott has assumed it was a girl, but several months ago he really looked at it and now he wasn't sure. The tiny dancer had the petite shape of a woman, but something about the facial features made it a little more masculine.

Scott wound up the box and sat it back down so that he could watch the ballerina spin. It was so beautiful. The white dress it worse seemed to flow with the air.

Solemnly, the blond laid back down on his bed and continued crying into the pillow. He didn't notice that the music box had stopped playing a bit early.

"Dad please, not now." He said. A hand came down on his back and started rubbing it.

No response, so Scott said it again.

"Dad."

Again, nobody responded, but the hand was still rubbing his back and shoulders.

Scott sat up and sighed as he turned around. "Please, it was a horrible d-"

It wasn't his father's eyes he was met with. Instead, a pair of brown ones with tiny flecks of gold.

"Who are you?" He asked, scooting back to the opposite end of his bed.

"I'm Mitch."

"Who?"

"You don't recognize me?" The boy tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow.

Scott looked at him and studied his face. Incredible structure, the cheeks were slightly hollow and very sharp. His eyes were shaped like almonds and were slightly droopy. Cute. His hair was shaved and swept to one side. Chuckling, he shook his head.

"You look familiar, but it's stupid. Hey, how did you get in here anyways? My door is locked."

Mitch just shrugged and looked around. "I like your Lady Gaga poster."

"Thanks?"

Mitch crawled to the other end of the bed and started hugging Scott. Scott was confused, but he hugged back anyways because the brunet smelled nice and seemed to give good hugs.

"Come lay back down."

It was like Scott was in a trance. His body obeyed but his mind didn't want to. He didn't have a clue who this boy was or why he was here.

Soon he found himself hugging Mith as if his life depended on it. Mitch was hugging him back and running his fingers through his blonde waves.

"You can sleep." Mitch cooed, kissing Scott's forehead.

That was all it took for Scott to fall asleep almost instantly, but right before he fell asleep he heard the mysterious boy speak again.

"I can't promise I'll be here when you wake up. But I can promise you this, I'll always look out for you."

Scott's brows furrowed in his sleep. That last part was something his mother would always say to him when he was hurting.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Mitch..." Scott muttered, rousing out of his nap.

No response or movements.

Scott turned over to see that Mitch was nowhere to be seen. There was no trace of him except for the lavender and honey smell that hung faintly in the air.

Then the music box started playing its tune again.

Scott's focus shifted to the box just in time to see the little dancer twinkle and spin around.