Scomiche One Shots

Self Control (Alternate Version)

A/n   For scomicheinator.

     This is an alternate version of Self Control where instead of Mitch being the drunk one, Scott is the drunk one. I thought about putting them in the same scenarios, but I think that Drunk Scott would act very different, bolder, from drunk Mitch even with the same intentions. 

     I hope you enjoy this version.

-Belle

***

     Mitch really didn't like being the sober one. The only reason he was forcing himself to not go wild was that it was Scott's birthday month and that man was going to go wild enough for the both of them. Mitch was only here to make sure he wouldn't die. Or at least embarrass himself or the band terribly. He was already kinda failing at that since currently, Scott was flailing around on the dance floor grinding on anything that would grind back. Mitch refrained from taking video evidence of Scott grinding with females.

     You knew Scott was super drunk when girls started to look good to him. 

     Mitch would be out on the dance floor with him, but one, the one drink he had been nursing was still half full and two, he was not nearly drunk enough to be pinned between a bunch of other drunks. Also, it was safe to assume that eventually, Scott was going to come over here and demand his attention at some point. 

     It happened every time they went out together. He chalked it up to them being more comfortable around each other than anyone else, so naturally, when drunk, they would gravitate towards each other. There they could talk without actually talking and laughing so hard they couldn't breathe and not worry about having to look good or dress nice.

     Mitch wasn't not listening to the boy sitting on his left talking his ear off, but once again, he wasn't really drunk enough to really want to be here. His finger slowly twirled the little red straw in his drink as he zoned out. 

     The boy's lips were nice. Shaped very well and plump. He had great eyelashes, too. They were light brown, just like his hair. His eyes were far too brown to be something Mitch would be able to get lost in, though. He still had quite the baby face too. Mitch preferred a strong jawline and sharp cheekbones.

     He brought his drink up and chased the straw with his tongue. The boy was literally still on the same story as before. He wasn't going to be annoyed someone was trying to pick him up, though. He was kinda asking for attention the way he was sitting; legs crossed as he leaned into the bar pushing his ass out a bit. He couldn't help it. Flirting came way too naturally to him.

    Mitch gasped as arms snaked around his waist, one sliding across his stomach and one sliding from his hip to the top of his thigh, the large hand precariously inching towards the inside of it. Hot breath cascaded over his mostly bare shoulder and into the front of his shirt as a head dipped into his neck. Funnily enough, he could smell Scott before he knew it was him. He watched the boy in front of him pause his story and look between the two of them before meeting his eyes, confusion flicking over his features. He didn't move though.

     "Mitch." Ah, must be that time to give the needy man attention. The fingertips on his thigh squeezed tightly and he glanced down at them and back up to the brown eyes in front of him. He was staring at them now too. 

     "What do you need, Scotty?" Mitch turned his head as Scott rolled his, making his lips brush the apple of Scott's cheek. 

     "You." Okay, woah. His voice was almost directly in his ear The huskiness of it made goosebumps pepper his skin, along with the blue eyes now trained on his from almost point blank. The whites of his eyes were a lot redder now. It almost made them look bluer. Mitch broke their eye contact to meet the brown ones still looking at them. He had an eyebrow arched. Mitch couldn't help the awkward laugh that escaped him.