(( I mean seriously, who puts a sofa on top of a cliff?))

Scott laughed, walking inside and peeling off his snow jacket. "I don't suppose you have spare clothes, so I'll just put my pyjamas back on."

"Sounds like an excuse to wear pyjamas all day," Vincent said, taking off his own jacket and closing the door. He walked over to the kitchen and picked up the air-con remote, turning the heater on. "I'll go get changed and I'll meet you back down here."

"Great," Scott skipped past Vincent and up the stairs, walking into his own room and shutting the door.

Vincent walked upstairs and went to his own room. He stripped off the wet clothes and pulled out dry, warm ones. Comfy grey trousers and a black shirt with a skull. He smoothed some snow out of his hair and looked himself in the mirror. Lady killer, Scott killer, and everyday killer.

He walked back out and downstairs, pulling out a saucepan, starting up the stove and pouring on some milk.

Mike walked in the front door, "Woah now. Careful you don't set your kitchen on fire. We'd all have to move into Scott's house. He and I can share the bed and you can be on the couch."

"What now?" Scott came bouncing down the stairs in his pyjamas from before, "Oh, hey Mike!"

"Hey Scott. How'd it go while I was gone?" He looked at Vincent, "You get a home run?"

"Eh. Second base," Vincent shrugged, "And a tickle fight."

"Ooh. Kinky," Mike said, nodding approvingly.

"Shut up, the both of you," Scott blushed, consciously putting the collar up on his pyjamas.

"Oooh ho, what's this?" Mike narrowed his eyes at Scott, "Why'd ya put your collar up, Scott?"

Scott blinked, "No reason. I mean, my neck is cold."

"Mhm. So it wouldn't be to hide, say, any embarrassing bruises?" Mike walked over and tugged the collar back down.

Scott slapped his hand away, stepping back, "None of your business!"

Mike laughed, "Ha. You really are into necking, aren'tcha, Scott? Did it feel as good when Vincent did it as you expected?"

"Woah, wait," Vincent looked from Scott to Mike, "Scott was talking about how good sleeping with me would feel?"

Scott blushed darkly, he glared at Mike. But he was saved by the bell - or more, the smell coming from the stove - "Vincent, the milk's burning."

"Oh, chiz," Vincent turned back around to the stove, pouring in the chocolate powder and stirring so the milk wouldn't burn any further, "They're almost done anyway."

"I'll leave it to you both," Mike said, "I'm late for a Call of Duty tournament with my friends."

"Seeya," Scott said, then he turned to Vincent, "I'll go lie on the couch and make sure it's comfortable enough. It's an important job."

"I'm sure it is," Vincent chuckled, "I'll only be a few minutes longer."

Scott walked off into Vincent's living room, and Vincent was left behind, idly stirring at the milk while the chocolate dissolved. Reaching up, he pulled out two mugs from the kitchen cupboard. When the hot chocolate had warmed up, he took it off the stove, pouring it into the mugs.

He walked out into the living room, a mug of steaming hot chocolate in each hand.

Scott was sprawled on the couch. He opened one eye lazily, "Just pour it into my mouth."

Vincent laughed, "Move over, you hog. There's no room for me."

Scott groaned, pulling himself into a sitting position and reaching out for one of the mugs.

Vincent handed him one and sat down on the couch beside him, taking a long drink out of it.

Scott gulped down half of his in one go, "Oh my gawd, this is liquid heaven. How do you get it this good?"

"Lots of chocolate," Vincent shrugged and sarcastically added, "And made with love."

Scott scoffed, "You've successfully sounded like both my parents in the last 24 hours. It's weird."

Vincent grinned, "Incest."

"Ohhhh," Scott wrinkled his nose, "Oh, I did not need that image in my head. Thank you very much."

"You're welcome."

Scott rolled his eyes, and skulled the rest of his drink. Putting the empty mug down at the bottom of the couch, he looked at Vincent, "Put your feet up."

Vincent tilted his head slightly, but swung his feet up so he was lying sideways on the couch, "And?"

Scott smiled, lying down beside Vincent and cuddling up to him, "And let's cuddle."

Vincent drank a little more of his hot chocolate, then put it down on the floor, "Sounds good to me."

Scott hummed, closing his eyes and hugging Vincent, their legs intertwined and arms around each other.

Vincent pulled him closer, but didn't close his own eyes. No, he wanted to remember every detail. Scott's dark brown hair and pale skin. If you looked closely enough, he had an extremely light sprinkling of freckles on his nose. Cute.

Scott opened his eyes and looked at Vincent happily, "Vincent... I really, really, really like you."

Vincent chuckled, "We've been through this before. I really, really, really like you, too."

Scott smiled, and seemed about to say something more, but he paused, stopping himself. Instead, he rested his head on Vincent's chest, tracing random patterns on Vincent's shirt with his fingers. There was a loud buzz from his back pocket and he froze, "Huh. I wonder who that could be."

"I'll get it~" Vincent's hand suddenly slid down Scott's lower back, into the back pocket of his pants. He explored around a little bit before grabbing Scott's phone.

Scott's eyes widened and his breath hitched a little, "P-Pervert."

Vincent chuckled lowly, and he pulled out Scott's phone, swiping it across to answer, "Hello?"

"Oh! Hey, you! Vincent, right? This is Linda," Linda giggled lightly, "Is my doofus brother there?"

"Yeah," Vincent said, "He's right here."

"Hey Linda," Scott called out.

"Yeah, well, sorry to interrupt you two smooching, but tomorrow night's the big niiight!~ I called Mom and Dad, and I said that Scott and I were coming home for dinner. They're super, super excited. This is Scott's big chance to drop the bombshell on them~!"

Vincent glanced over at Scott, who was looking as pale as a sheet - having heard every word.

"Helloooo?" Linda asked in a sing-song voice, "Did he hear me?"

"Oh, he heard you, alright," Vincent stroked Scott's side as an attempt to comfort him, "Heard you loud and clear."

"Good! I'll leave you two to it. Love ya, Scott!" She hung up.

Vincent looked at Scott, "Don't you just love sisters?"

Scott bit his lip, his breathing quickened, "I'm not ready. I can't do this. I can't come out to my parents! A-Are you crazy?! My Dad... oh gawd. My Dad'll hate me! How could I ever look at him again without being reminded of what I've done to him! How could he ever look at me again without feeling disappointed in me?!"

"Woah, woah," Vincent turned on his side fully to look at him, cupping his face in his hands, "It'll be okay, Scott. Your parents love you very much. They're not just going to hate you all of a sudden." His thumb stroked down the scar that stretched the length of Scott's face. The scar that alcohol and Vincent's knife had caused.

"But... But..." Scott met Vincent's eyes and fell silent. His breathing steadied.

"There we go. It'll be okay. Would it make you feel better if I came, too?" Vincent offered.

Scott nodded slightly, "Y-Yeah. It would."

Vincent smiled, leaning in to kiss him gently on the lips, "Well then. Time to meet the parents."