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The fresh trail of blood on Scott's face drips down his chin, slipping through his warm clothes. The blizzard that has suddenly risen around him does not help; his eyes sting from the coldness and wetness, his knuckles feel sore and he just wants to go home. Where is home exactly, he doesn't know, because the idea of walking into Wallace's (because let's face it, it's not his) apartment and witnessing his disappointed stare weakens him, and the house across the street inhabited by his snotty little sister doesn't seem all-too-appealing either.
He sighs even though he can't even hear himself due to the snow roaring in his ears. He squints, fumbling with the door handle until he feels a click, and he practically stumbles forward. The lights inside are dim, darkened to a dark, homely orange. It smells like toasted sandwiches, and he can hear the water running. Suddenly, all the bitter feelings from before seem to vanish in an instant, untying knots in his stomach that make his knees tremble, and he feels like crying.
He lazily throws his coat onto the floor and slumps down onto their mattress. The room smells like men's cologne and scented candles, and judging by the stack of wine bottles on the counter, it doesn't take a genius to figure out Wallace had brought a man over. The thought makes his stomach churn strangely, but he ignores the feeling like everything else in his life. The blood on his chin is already starting to crust, but Wallace is in the bathroom and that's the only place where they keep the bandages and gauzes. So he waits. He flops onto his back and closes his eyes.
Half an hour later, the bathroom door opens. A haze of steam clashes with the warm air of the house. Wallace is humming a song, wrapped in only his towel when he notices Scott sleeping, a red splotch shining under his bottom lip.
"Hey, Guy, wake up" Wallace shakes him hard enough until Scott lets out a pained groan, awakened from an all too familiar dream of roller skates and dry sand under his fingernails. He blinks away the drowsiness and is met by the worried frown of his roommate. Wallace's hands are so warm they nearly burn Scott's skin. At the same time, he feels like leaning into the touch and never letting go. As soon as the thought crosses his mind, he blushes; what the hell's wrong with him lately?
"Why couldn't you just let me sleep?"
"Because you're bleeding, dumbass. How about we get that treated, hm?" without waiting for an answer, Wallace disappears into the bathroom and emerges with a small bottle of alcohol and a white gauze. He dips the gauze into the liquid and presses it against Scott's chin, who hisses despite himself. Wallace winces, a silent apology written in his eyes, and wipes away the crust and dirt.
"Did you get into a fight again?" he murmurs after a little bit of silence, occasionally broken by the droplets of Wallace's wet hair falling onto Scott's lap. He smells like roses, and Scott is so distracted by the scent he barely registers the question at first.
"Um, yeah. Again" he smiles ironically, rolling his eyes, and sighs. Wallace hums.
"It's the fourth one this month"
"Yeah, yeah. I know" Scott grunts. There's barely any blood left, just a small scar and a streak of translucent brown indicating there was even an injury at all. "I don't even know what I'm doing anymore".
You're just an evil ex-boyfriend waiting to happen
Memories of flashing lights and blue hues come back to him like a flooding stream: Kim's averting eyes, Knives' pleading gaze, Roxie's hatred that radiated off of her in waves; broken glass on a pristine floor; Ramona's bitter eyes and her bitter tone, bitter in a tired and lonesome manner, like she's witnessed this before, and the scenery is all so blue it makes him want to throw up.
"It's okay, Guy" When Scott doesn't answer, Wallace tries again "Is this a good time to say you deserved better than her?" Scott chuckles, and Wallace's hesitance breaks into a soft smile.
"As if. But thanks anyway"
With one last wipe, Wallace is about to retreat to dispose of the bloody gauze and the bottle of alcohol; however, Scott stops him, gently grabbing his elbow. Wallace's eyes are tinted with the prettiest shade of pink, his eyes tinged with a gentleness Scott's never seen in him before. It attracts him in an inexplicable way.
"Uh, Scott? Everything okay, buddy?" Wallace eventually asks, because Scott's been staring at him for a little too long and the air suddenly turned ten times heavier. The room has darkened because the window's clogged with snow, and the small candles scattered around the room flicker impatiently, just like the air before lightning strikes.
"Wallace" Scott whispers, and licks at his lips. His roommate follows the movement "Just kiss me" his voice cracks "Please".
Wallace is not the type of man to obey any guy's order, especially Scott, but for some reason, he just does. He leans forward, and it feels like an eternity before their lips finally meet; so much so that Scott sighs into his mouth like he's tasting the elixir of life. Wallace's fresh and familiar scent fills his lungs, and he takes him in whole. He feels his roommate's hands run through his hair, and suddenly he's being pushed backward into the futon, a hand gently pressing onto his chest.
Wallace kissed him like no one before. Scott could barely remember his time with Kim back in high school; Envy had kissed with fury and bitterness and anger, as if the mere thought of their relationship frustrated her to the bone; he'd never experienced such a thing with Knives, and Ramona's kisses were passionate, sweet, fleeting like butterfly wings.
But Scott had never been kissed like this, breathy, hot and moist, the floral scent of his conditioner dizzying. A million thoughts raced through his head, questioning and accusing, matters of which he'd never even thought about before. But none of that mattered anymore because Wallace ran a hand under his sweater, warmth seeping into his cold skin, and Scott melted, the corners of his eyes prickled with unshed tears. He whimpered, and Wallace leaned back, wiping a tear away with the pad of his thumb.
"It's okay" Scott choking back a sob, breathing shakily "You're okay" Wallace murmured into his ear, sending shivers down Scott's spine. He lay down next to him, one hand resting on the back of Scott's neck, the other on his back. His roommate simply buried his face in the crook of Wallace's neck and closed his eyes. There were a lot of things going on, but falling asleep in Wallace's arms seemed like a better idea than fighting the world.
Just as Scott was starting to nod off, he heard a small click and the fast succession of typing.
"Wallaceee" he groaned, just as the phone started to ring. His roommate giggled, laughter muffled by Scott's hair.