Need (Scomiche)

Mitch wakes up to an empty bed. His body feels heavy, and all he can think about is his phone call late last night with Scott.

He pushes the warm blankets off him and ignores the guilt tinting his cheeks as he heads out of their bedroom. He hears Jackson talking, and when he rounds the corner to the kitchen, Jackson is hanging up with a heavy sigh.

"Who was that?" Mitch says, heading to the pot of coffee.

Jackson runs a hand through his hair, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Scott."

Mitch fumbles with the cabinet door, shakily pulling out a coffee mug as his heart pumps loudly in his chest. "What did he want?"

"He said he can't do the whole cuckolding thing anymore."

Mitch stops, spinning around. "What?" He pales, a heaviness settling in his belly.

"He said he couldn't for personal reasons," Jackson says, leaning against the island. "I didn't want to push."

Mitch isn't sure what to do or say, really. All he can feel is the ache in his chest; Scott didn't even give him time to sort out his feelings. He made the decision for Mitch.

And then Mitch remembers how happy and excited Jackson had been, and he sets his mug by the coffee machine to settle himself in Jackson's arms.

"I'm sorry, baby." Mitch murmurs, his arms wrapped loosely around Jackson's waist. "I know how much it meant to fulfill your fantasy."

"It's okay," Jackson says, looping his arms around Mitch and pressing a soft kiss to his hair. "I just thought we'd have more than two nights with Scott."

"Yeah," Mitch says, burrowing further into Jackson's chest and hoping that he doesn't sense the dread seeping into Mitch's bones as he realizes he might not see Scott again, that he may have only gotten two nights with someone who makes his heart race.

"Darn - guess we'll have to settle for just the two of us for now," Jackson laughs softly, the quiet rumble of his chest resonating through Mitch.

Mitch puffs out air in a faux-laugh at Jackson's small joke, his heart feeling incredibly empty.

-

Jackson ends up going on a run, claiming he needs to clear his head. Mitch sends him off with a kiss, and the moment he's out the front door, Mitch is bolting for his cell phone he left in the kitchen.

He doesn't hesitate to hit the call button, dialing Scott and getting increasingly frustrated with each ring that passes. It's been a good amount, and Mitch almost thinks he's not going to answer when he finally hears that pretty voice hum a greeting.

"Hello?" Scott says. His voice sounds heavy and sleepy, and Mitch wonders why he sounds so tired when he's been up for a while, if the call he gave Jackson is any indication.

"You didn't even give me a chance," Mitch whispers harshly. He's not in the mood for pleasantries when his heart is stinging in his chest. "You didn't even let me figure out what I was feeling."

"I'm sorry," Scott sighs. "Figured it'd be easier if you didn't have to figure out anything."

"That wasn't your choice to make - especially not behind my back."

"Mitchy," Scott starts.

"No."

"What?"

"You don't get to call me that after what you did." Mitch is pacing now, his feet padding angrily against the kitchen tile as he runs a hand through his hair. "That was so incredibly wrong, Scott."