Need (Scomiche)

Mitch hums as he's taken. It's so much slower than Scott normally fucks him but it still feels so good. Scott feels so good.

Mitch grabs onto the hand wrapped around his chest, lacing his fingers through bigger ones as Scott pushes his hips forward, lazily thrusting into him. Mitch lets out little whines, attempting to spread his legs better for Scott. They're both on their sides, which makes this a little difficult, but Scott's hand holding him close as he fucks into his boy is enough for Mitch.

Scott pushes his hips a bit, shifts the angle until he's brushing Mitch's prostate with every slow thrust. He's building up a heavy fire in Mitch's gut.

"Yes," Mitch breathes, fingernails scraping desperately along Scott's arm. It seems like everything Scott does results in Mitch as a puddly, needy mess. "There," he gasps sharply.

Scott keeps a slow, torturous pace, building both of their orgasms slowly until it's too much, and Mitch is dragging Scott's hand down to fool with his leaking cock.

"Please," Mitch breathes. He feels a big, strong hand wrapping around him, and that's all he needs. "Yes, Scott!"

Mitch wakes with a start. He's sweating and his briefs are sticky. "Great," he mumbles.

"Have a nice dream?" Jackson asks quietly. His words are quiet and pointed, and with a chill, Mitch realizes he's probably been moaning in his sleep.

"Jackson..." Mitch starts when he meets the subtly icy stare of his fiancé. He doesn't seem angry - just hurt.

"It's okay," Jackson hums, reaching a hand out and setting his palm on Mitch's side. He runs it along Mitch's hip gently, his fingers curling and smoothing around the soft skin. "It makes sense, really. He's been making you come more than I have." Jackson smiles sweetly, his expression softening until all earlier discomfort is washed from his gentle features. "It was only just a dream, anyway."

Mitch almost chokes on air then - just a dream - because it had all felt so much better than a dream, and Mitch isn't sure if it's really just a dream if he wishes Scott were here instead of his own fiancé. "Yeah," he whispers, leaning forward into Jackson's touch. He wants to hide the hot shame building on his cheeks so he burrows into Jackson's chest. "It was just a dream."

Mitch is dozing off, into what he hopes is a less wet slumber, when he feels Jackson's fingers teasing the hem of the back of his briefs. He lets it go, assumes his fiancé just wants to touch after such an awkward moment, but then his fingers find their way under the waistband, slipping along the soft flesh of Mitch's bottom. Mitch's eyes open, startled, as he's pulled gently forward, his soft cock pressing into the growing bulge of Jackson's arousal.

Mitch gasps, pawing at Jackson's shirt in an attempt to pull away, but Jackson doesn't recognize Mitch's nonverbal response, leaning in to press a kiss to Mitch's lips.

"Stop!" Mitch squeaks, hands still on Jackson's chest as everything grows deathly uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," Jackson hums, his hands slipping from Mitch's underwear. It sends ease through Mitch's veins, the hands leaving his body, and he's a little sick to his stomach when he thinks about how he feels better when Jackson isn't touching him. This isn't how it's supposed to be - isn't how it's ever been before Scott.

"It's okay," Mitch says softly, running a hand along Jackson's stubbly jaw. "Just - I want to get clean."

"You don't have to explain," Jackson soothes, running a hand through Mitch's hair, his thumb rubbing gently at his temple. "I can go start a bath for you?"

Mitch gnaws at his lip, easing into Jackson's touch. He feels so guilty - Jackson is so nice, always has been, and Mitch has been dreaming of other boys.

"That's okay. I think I'd rather shower." Mitch pushes up, Jackson's hand falling away. Mitch cringes as the drying come in in his underwear sticks to him as he stands. He's about to dart for the bathroom when he realizes how cold and cruel he's being; he shouldn't be pushing his kind and loving fiancé away when he's the one basically committing infidelity. He spins around, grabbing Jackson's hand and using it to pull him forward. He presses his lips to Jackson's cheek, squeezing his big hand. "I love you," Mitch says.

"I love you too, Mitchy!" Jackson calls back as Mitch runs to the bathroom.

Mitch doesn't know if it's the bitter taste on his tongue from uttering those words or the tightness in his chest from hearing the familiar petname, but it all just feels wrong.

-

When Mitch is finished with his shower, he crawls back into bed. It's far past midnight when he settles in and he's shamefully thankful that Jackson is consumed in what appears a deep sleep.

Mitch tosses and turns, watching Jackson's soft features as he sleeps. He's really handsome, Mitch admires. He's got scruff gracing his jaw, having not shaved recently (which Mitch hopes will become a habit), and his short dark curls look so pretty against his pale skin.

Mitch twists, reaching for his phone on the nightstand and sighing softly. His lockscreen is him and Jackson and his stomach turns as he opens up the messaging app, finger hovering over the chat he has with Scott. All they've ever talked about is their scenes with Jackson - a loose plan of what was forbidden and what was more than amazing.

Mitch starts typing before he's even conscious of what he's doing and his finger is hovering over send.

Mitch: hey, are you free to talk?

He takes a deep breath, tapping at his screen and gnawing at his lip as his text is delivered. He waits a few minutes, almost about to give up and just grab some Melatonin when three little dots appear on his screen that have his heart racing.

Scott: yeah, hey! you're up late?

Mitch: i couldn't sleep. can i call?

Scott: yeah ofc

Mitch pulls the cover back slowly, padding quietly back into the bathroom. He closes the door gently and hops onto the vanity, pressing the call button. There's only a couple of rings before Scott picks up.

"Hey, what's going on?" He says gently.

"I don't know," Mitch sighs, playing with a loose thread at the end of his briefs. "I can't get you out of my head."

"What?"

"I know I'm like the worst, but there's something between us, right? Like a spark. Every time you touch me I go crazy. Jackson doesn't make my heart pound out of my chest - I mean, he did, but not like you do." Mitch says quickly, his skin heating up as he goes on.

"Mitch..." Scott starts. "You like my cock."

"No," Mitch says sharply. "I dreamt about you. You treated me so good, and when I woke up, Jackson tried to touch me, and it felt wrong. I didn't want him with me - I wanted you."

"I think you're sexy, and sweet, Mitch. I do. But you're also engaged. In the end, you love Jackson. Maybe you're just a little confused because he's letting me fuck you."

"Everything feels right when I'm with you," Mitch whispers, his voice cracking. "I want you." And Mitch feels the tears gathering then, because he's so terrified of how loudly his heart has been pounding in his chest since Scott answered the phone. He's scared of how badly he wants to throw away his engagement - his love of five years - all for Scott. But everything with Scott feels so right.

"I think you want my cock," Scott sighs softly. "It's late, Mitchy. You really should get sleep. Maybe things will seem clearer in the morning."

"I want you." Mitch tries again, desperation ringing clear in his tone.

There's a quiet pause on Scott's part before he murmurs gently, "good night, Mitchy."

And Mitch only mumbles a broken, "night," before the quiet dial tone settles all around him and he's forced to return to his fiancé.