Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types, Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationship:

Kip Grady/Scott Hunter

Characters:

Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Kip Grady, Original Characters

Additional Tags:

Angst and Feels, shifter Scott hunter, bunny shifter Scott hunter, Scott Hunter Loves Kip Grady, POV Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Scott Hunter Needs a Hug (Game Changers), Angst, Mental Health Issues, Loneliness, Touch-Starved, touch starved Scott hunter, Shifter AU, Closeted Character, Post-Break Up, Bunny Shifter Scott Hunter (Game Changers)

Language:

English

Collections:

Bunny!Scott Fest

Stats:

Published: 2026-09-05 Words: 10,909 Chapters: 1/1

Number 5704

Summary

Scott spent twenty years alone, so he should be used to it by now.

 

His apartment is too still.

Scott has lived alone for his entire adult life— fifteen years in various New York City neighbourhoods, a few different apartments all with views and space and expensive furniture and a crushing emptiness.

He never used to think silence had weight, before. But it does. And it's crushing him, pressing down on his chest and stealing his ability to breathe.

He sits in the dark and he doesn't turn the TV on, because that wouldn't help.

What would have helped would have been not being a coward. He could have gone to Kip's birthday, and he could have made friends there, and he wouldn't be alone now.

For three months he wasn't alone. Twenty years of it, of non stop loneliness, of noone to hug or hold or kiss or love, and three months undid it all.

Scott hadn't been cautious in those three months. He'd been helpless. He'd let himself fall head over heels quicker than he'd thought possible. The first time, the very first time, Kip touched him, he broke. It had been one simple brush of his hand against Scott's jaw, just before their first kiss, and Scott was ruined.

He needed it. Twenty years of almost nothing— of anonymous sex with men that didn't hold him, sometimes didn't even kiss him, hadn't prepared him for how it would feel to have Kip wrapped around him and staying.

He'd asked for Kip to stay. He knows that. It's his own fault. But he hadn't expected it to happen, and as soon as it did he knew he'd ruined himself.

Scott hadn't shifted much before Kip. Shifting alone is the loneliest feeling in the world. He's so small, so nervous, and the empty rooms feel bigger and scarier when he's a rabbit. Even his bed feels endless and vast and terrifying when he's not even three pounds.

He'd learned to leave the bunny in him dormant. It was easier.

But Kip had found out on their second night together, because Scott had curled up to him and it had just… happened. He hadn't meant to— he was fully intending on having this side of him be completely unknown to Kip, but it was the most relaxed he'd ever been, and his bunny felt comfortable enough to show.

Kip used to have rabbits, it turns out. Two little lionheads, just like Scott, with double manes too. Kip's were both grey, and Scott's fur is brown, but he'd just known what to do.

Scott panicked when it first happened, convinced Kip would freak out— he knows what people say about shifters. Unpredictable, unsafe, volatile.

Kip had just said a soft little Oh and held out his hand.

Scott climbed in, and after that, he shifted almost every night.

He'd curl in the gap in Kip's crossed legs while watching TV, warm and cozy and buzzing with the feeling of just being held. He'd burrow into the space between Kip's shoulder and neck and delight in feeling the rumble of his voice and laugh. Once Kip had fallen asleep on the sofa with Scott curled on his chest, and Scott knew he should get him to bed but just being there and feeling the rise and fall of his chest— he needed that. He stayed there, still and silent, for two hours, just to feel it.

He hadn't known he'd wanted this so badly. He really thought he'd been doing fine.

And then Kip left.

Scott doesn't blame him for leaving, not one bit. He can't offer what Kip deserves. Kip is the most incredible person he's ever met, and he deserves only the best. He deserves to go for romantic strolls in the sunlight, holding hands and sharing kisses while watching the sunset. He deserves to curl up in a movie theatre, rest his head on a loving shoulder. He deserves to be around a dinner table with his family, with his friends, with all the people he loves and that love him— because Kip has so many of those, because he's wonderful, and get to be there with his partner.

Kip deserves the world, and all Scott can offer is the inside of his apartment. It's just not enough.

Kip had cried when he left, which made it so much worse. Scott had hoped to never see him cry. He really wishes Kip had been angry instead. If he'd stood there shouting and throwing things and using cruel words it would have hurt so much less.

I can't keep lying, Kip had said, and it felt like pressing into an open wound. It's all Scott ever does, isn't it? Lie to his team, lie to the press, lie to the guys in the summer, lie to himself. He's nothing but a liar, so when the truth came for him in the form of true love, he'd just let it go.

I miss my Dad was what Kip apologised for, but he shouldn't have. Scott misses his Dad, too. Especially now. The last time he'd been shifting regularly was with his Mom, and his Dad would hold them both in his arms. It was nice, then. It's always nice when there's someone to hold him.

At twelve years old Scott had sat still and quiet and convinced he was just in a very bad nightmare the night the police told him what had happened. It took four days before he realised it was real.

He stood alone, still and quiet, in the kitchen for a very long time the night Kip left. He knew that was real straight away, and it was because of that he couldn't make himself move.

He tells himself in the first week that it's fine. He is a professional athlete with decades of experience compartmentalising. He knows how to do this. He goes to practice and he is Scott Hunter, captain, dependable and reliable and not someone with anything going on beneath the surface. He's shit, and everyone can see it, but this happens sometimes. Slumps happen. So nobody suspects that, for the second time in his life, his entire world has been pulled out from under his feet.

He gets home and the apartment is still. Nothing's moved since he left, and he fucking hates it.

I was alone for two decades. He thinks as he pours himself half a mug of whiskey, I know how to do this.

What was all that for, if not to prepare for this?

The body, it turns out, has a memory too. And the mind cannot erase it.

He'd spent two decades forgetting how it felt to be held, but he remembers now. His skin itches with the desire to be touched, his heart feels like there's a gaping hole in it, and every day it gets bigger. Every day that goes by where he's not held he feels a little more of himself crumble away. He's planning this year's vacation— five weeks, this year, not three. He needs to cram as much touch into it as possible, because he remembers now.

It won't be the same, he knows that. Getting his face shoved into a mattress while someone nameless fucks him from behind won't fill the hole in his heart but maybe he can pretend. Maybe he can envision Kip doing that, and pretend that he'll be held afterwards even though he won't be. He can just pretend. He's used to pretending.

He doesn't sleep well anymore. He finds himself walking into rooms and standing there for minutes at a time not knowing what he went in there for. He gets three penalties in one game for the first time in his career because he can't judge the distance right and he can't feel where his body ends and the rest of the world begins. He thinks it might be his brain, the part he can't control, just being so desperate to be close to people that it doesn't matter how.

He doesn't shift.

That part of him now lives in a box again, like it should have all along.

---

It's a Sunday six weeks after Kip left, and he's run out of ways to avoid his apartment. He's done every errand he could imagine, he's sat in two separate parks for an hour each, he's wandered through stores he'd never buy anything from, and now he's back and the silence and the stillness is waiting for him right where he left it.

He drops his bags full of items he didn't need to buy right in the doorway and goes to sit on the bathroom floor. It's not as strange as it founds- the bathroom is the smallest room. It doesn't feel so empty when he fills most of the floor.

He thinks about Kip. Not actively, he doesn't let himself do that, but it's always there anyway. Like a song that just won't get out of his head, he hears I love you and I can't keep lying on a loop. He thinks about Kip's hands. How they feel on his face, on his shoulders, in his hair. He thinks about Kip's lips on his cheek and his forehead and his bruised hands. He thinks about the warmth and the safety of being tucked into someone else's body, of how their breathing used to sync up without either of them trying.

He thinks about how his bunny had felt safe enough to come out for the first time in fifteen years. He thinks about how he trembled with fear that first time it happened, and Kip had been oh so gentle, and then the bunny fell in love too.

He wants to rip that bunny out of himself. The bunny deserves better, even if he doesn't. The bunny should know love, even if he never will.

The bunny must hear these thoughts, and he's not happy about them, because one second the thought is whizzing through Scott's mind while he stares up at the ceiling and then the next he's just a few inches off the ground.

The bathroom tiles are suddenly enormous, and the air smells different— there's more to it, he can smell the detergent on his towels and his clothes and the leftover soap in his shower. His ears twitch of their own accord, zeroing in on the sound of the building's ventilation system.

He stays still for a moment, testing how it feels.

It feels terrible. The room is even bigger and emptier, and he feels oh so small in it. Every instinct he'd already had as a human towards warmth and contact and familiarity is intensified tenfold. His nose works at the air as he hops around the apartment, but he finds nothing and noone.

I told you, Scott thinks to himself, to the bunny, It's just us now.

The bunny is not happy to hear it.

He hops to the front door.

The bags he'd dropped here earlier have propped the front door open slightly. It's only a thin gap, but like this he's small enough to fit through it, so he does.

The hallway is worse. It's long and cold and even emptier than the apartment, so Scott rushes to the other side to not feel quite so vulnerable. He feels his ears go flat.

This was a bad idea. This is worse. He feels his tiny body trembling in the cold, open, empty space, and all he wants to do is get out. There's a staircase to his right, meant for use in emergencies, and Scott slips through the door into it.

He just needs to go. Anywhere that isn't empty and cold would be better. He just needs people, he can't be alone like this.

As soon as he arrives on the floor beneath his, his nose starts to twitch. Something's cooking and it smells delicious. Garlicky and buttery and rich, and he follows the scent down another flight of stairs.

He's taken the stairs a few times as a human, either when the elevator wasn't working or when he felt like punishing himself. It's much harder as a bunny. He has to carefully hop down each individual step, and they're all so big when he's like this. Each one is twice his height, which is terrifying, but he has to get to people and this is the only way so he continues anyway.

The hallways down on the floors beneath, the regular apartments, not the penthouses, are carpeted. His hallway is vast and endless and hard and cold, but these ones are plush and soft and warm. He likes these ones more. He follows the scent of garlicky, herby, buttery food right to a door on the fifty seventh floor.

5704.That's where the smell is coming from. It's wafting through the little gap at the bottom of the door, and Scott presses his nose to it to inhale it deeper.

He hasn't eaten anything like that in five weeks now. He's been surviving off of pre prepared meals and protein shakes, and that's fine, he's getting what he needs, but none of it is like this. Whoever's cooking this is doing so with love and care, either for themselves or for someone else, and Scott just wishes he had that. He wishes that even if he can't have someone else love him, he could love himself.

But he can't, because he's a liar and a coward, and he doesn't deserve it.

Scott starts to hear movement and voices and presses his ear to the door. If he closes his eyes he can pretend he's in there with the people in 5704, laughing and eating and loving them and having them give it back. He can pretend the door he's leaning on is a person, someone that cares about him enough to let him rest on them. It feels nice.

"Oh." Someone says, in the exact same voice Kip had used, and Scott startles.

He freezes, ears pinned back against his head, and looks up at the source of the voice with wide, fearful eyes.

She looks gentle.

She crouches down to him slowly, and Scott takes her in.

She's maybe forty or so, a little older than him, with brown skin and her dark hair in a bun on top of her head. She has a reusable tote bag in one hand and a key in the other, with leaves of herbs dangling from the side of the tote.

"Hey," She says quietly, "Where did you come from, little guy?"

Scott should turn away. He should bolt from the stranger and get back to his own apartment and shift back and get used to the loneliness again, but the stranger reaches out her hand so gently to pet his mane and he forgets. He lets his head fall into her hand, nuzzles in to the contact, and she lets out a surprised little noise.

"Okay," She says, voice still so soft and calm, "Hi. You want to come in, baby?"

She opens her hand in front of him, just like Kip did, and Scott hops in.

She lets out a little laugh and cradles him to her chest as she stands. Scott rubs his cheek across the soft material of her hoodie, listens close so he can hear her heartbeat through it.

She's wonderful, this lady. He presses his nose to her collarbone in the hopes she'll realise he's saying thank you. She probably has no idea she's just made him remember how it feels to be alive.

"Mama?"

A little girl, probably less than ten years old, leans out of the now open doorway in fuzzy PJs in the same shade of brown as Scott's fur. She sees him and her eyes go wide and she starts vibrating with excitement, huge wide gappy grin on her face.

"A bunny!" She screeches, and the lady holding him laughs.

"Be gentle, Penny," The lady warns, "He's only little."

The little girl nods seriously, and then lifts her tiny hand dramatically slowly until she strokes his ear softly. She's so tentative at first, just one little finger repeatedly going over the same spot.

"He's so soft." She breathes, and then gets more sure and uses the side of her hand to pet the top of his head.

Scott, who has not cried since the night Kip left, feels tears in his eyes.

"Let's get him in," The lady holding him says, "We need to figure out where he belongs."

Inside 5704 is louder than Scott knew these apartments could be. He's never had so many people in his one, but this seems lovely. He'd love to have this many people who love him. He hopes everyone in here knows how lucky they are.

The lady doesn't put Scott down, she cradles him like he's something precious as she makes her way through the home, showing him to every member of the family.

The second person she introduces him to is a man that looks to be about her age with his hands on his hips and his glasses pushed up onto his forehead.

"Dev," She says seriously, "Look at him. I couldn't leave him there."

"Where did you even find him?" Dev asks.

"Right outside our door! He was leaning on it!"

Dev sighs and lifts a hand to scratch between Scott's ears, "Of course. You attract these things, don't you?"

The lady nods, seemingly proud of the fact, "They know I'm safe."

It's something she's said many times before judging by the way Dev shakes his head and gives up. She's right, though. She radiates safety and comfort, just like his mother did, and Scott just knows her kids must have the best time.

He hopes they get her for longer than he had his own.

Then a little boy appears. Younger than Penny by a few years.

He's shaking. He's shaking and he's bouncing and he claps both hands over his face.

"It's a bunny!" He squeals excitedly through his hands.

"Yeah," The lady laughs, "Can you be gentle if you touch him?"

"Yes," He says seriously, with a little frown and a firm nod, "I will be very gentle, Mama. I promise."

The lady lowers Scott down to hold him in front of her belly, and the little boy reaches out a tiny hand to stroke the tufts just behind his ear.

"Oh," He says softly, "Oh, you are so cute! Mama, is he ours?"

Yes! Scott thinks, Yes! I can be yours! Take me in! Let me live here!

"No, Rohan. He's got a home, he's just visiting."

Scott barely holds in a thump at the words. He doesn't have a home— he's got the world's blandest, bleakest, emptiest huge apartment full of nothing. Not a sentimental picture on the walls or a home cooked meal to be found, nothing. It's a box at best, and a coffin at worst. It really feels like he's just waiting to die up there, all alone, and he'd probably be nothing but a pile of bones and goo on his sofa by the time anyone cared enough to come check.

"Can I hold him, Mama?" The little boy asks with big, wide, pleading brown eyes that remind Scott far too much of Kip's.

"You be careful, okay? Look how small he is, Ro. Don't frighten him."

Rohan nods and his little tongue pokes out the corner of his mouth in concentration as he reaches for Scott.

Scott happily transfers over. He doesn't mind who's cradling him against their body, as long as someone is. Rohan does just that, he scoops Scott into his hands— two of them, because his are so small— and holds him to his chest.

"Oh," Rohan breathes, "Oh, bunny, I love you."

Scott loves him too. He loves everyone in this apartment right now.

Rohan holds him, Penny comes back to stroke his head and his ears, and their Mama heads into the kitchen.

"I think we can get Mama to let him stay." Rohan attempts to whisper, very very loudly.

Penny nods seriously, "Dad will be harder. But we need the bunny to stay."

They like him.

He doesn't know why. He hasn't done anything to deserve their gentle touches and their kind words and their scheming, but they're doing it all anyway.

He's always been terrified of having kids around when he's shifted. When he was younger and he couldn't control it in school the other kids would poke and prod at him, pull his ears and his tail, shove him into their pockets and their bags. It had been terrifying and awful and Scott vowed to never let his bunny anywhere near children again.

Penny and Rohan aren't like that. They're gentle, they're kind, and their Mama has obviously taught them how to be respectful to animals. Their Mama is so much like his own that it makes his chest ache.

He's wondered, often, throughout his life if his Mom would still love him today.

He doesn't know how his parents would have felt about the idea of their only son being gay. He likes to imagine, because they were such kind and loving people, that they wouldn't care. He likes to think he could have gone to them in his late teens, when he realised it was definitely true, and told them, and be told we love you and given a big hug and never doubt it.

He doesn't know how realistic that is. Maybe he'd be just as lonely if they were alive. Maybe they'd have been angry and vindictive and told the world. Maybe his life would be even worse, somehow.

Things can always get worse. That's something he's learned the hard way. Rock bottom doesn't really exist— you think you're there, and you just keep going. The only time you've hit it is once you're dead.

The kids' Mama reappears with a little china saucer full of fruit and vegetables. There's a variety of green leaves on the bottom with little tiny cubes of carrot and apple on the top.

Scott hopes it's for him. He hasn't been fed as a bunny since he was twelve years old, and right now he thinks he needs it. He used to sit with his Mom, thumping with her until Dad fixed them a plate of treats to share. He misses that a lot.

"Rohan, put him down," Their Mama tells him, "Let him eat. He looks too skinny."

Scott's a little offended by the assessment, but she doesn't know he can understand her, so it's not really rude. And it's also probably true. He hasn't looked at himself lately, his own face upsets him, but he knows he hasn't been eating enough. He's shit on the ice right now and everyone's talking about it, but he's still giving it his all. He probably is looking worse for wear.

The lady places the saucer in the middle of the floor, and Rohan lowers Scott slowly to the ground.

Scott doesn't hop off his hand. If they put him down they might never pick him back up, and he's just not ready for this to be over. Five minutes isn't long enough— he needs more.

"He doesn't want to leave me, Mama!" Rohan gasps, "He loves me!"

The lady leans over and tries to scoop Scott off Rohan's hand, but he clings on.

Please don't make me leave, he'd beg if he could talk right now, let me stay just a bit longer, please.

"Okay, okay, you're scared, huh?" The lady asks softly, "Can you come to me, little one?"

She holds her hands out in front of Rohan's and Scott peers at them dubiously. What if it's a trick? What if she's going to scoop him up and then just put him down somewhere?

"Oh, baby, you look so scared. It's okay. I'm your friend, remember? I brought you in, come on, come eat something."

She grabs a couple of pieces of apple from the top of the saucer and offers him one between her fingers.

"It's okay," She encourages, "You can eat there. It's for you."

Scott leans forward and takes the small cube of apple between his teeth. It's perfect. He chews it happily, memories of doing exactly this with his parents flooding his mind. He and his Mom used to have races— Dad would put an equal sized piece of food in front of each of them and whoever finished it first won. He usually won, but Dad used to laugh so hard watching them chew furiously, and then he'd pick them both up and cuddle with them after.

"Oh, baby. You like being held, huh?"

Scott's still chewing his cube of apple, but if he could laugh right now he would. Like doesn't really begin to cover it. He liked being held before Kip— liked the idea of it, anyway. Now? After experiencing the feeling of falling asleep in someone's arms? Of being tucked far enough into another body that he felt small and safe? Of being hugged so hard he struggled to breathe?

He needs it. It's just as essential as air to breathe and water to drink and food to eat. He needs this.

It's a terrifying thought, because he has no access to it. Kip was his one chance, and he fucked it up. It's a horrible feeling to know that something everyone else takes for granted is just… not an option. This family here in 5704 have no idea how it feels to go years without a real hug. And they're wonderful, they never should— Scott hopes to god and the universe and whatever really is in control of this fucked up world that none of them ever experience it, but he knows. It's his reality, and it's his only one.

So he's going to come back.

He shouldn't. He should do what real normal people do and find a person that likes him as a person. But he's not a real normal person, and he's not sure anyone could like him once they know him. He tricked himself into believing Kip would, somehow, and he'll never understand how. Beautiful, smart, proud, wonderful, brave, honest Kip. So many things Scott could never be. So many things Scott doesn't deserve.

But these people like him, because they know him only as the bunny, and that's enough for now.

He makes his exit when Dev opens the door to take out the trash, and he hears them all calling after him, but he knows if he doesn't leave then he may never leave at all.

---

He swears he won't go back once he's a human again.

He thinks it through a lot more once he's human, and he realises it's a terrible idea. He thinks it through while face down in his pillow desperately trying to not let the tears fall, because if they start he knows they'll never stop. Going back is a bad idea, and he will not do it.

But then the following Sunday comes and when he steps into his hallway after going to the store he smells that same scent of rich, buttery, herby goodness wafting up from the floors beneath. He resists, at first. He potters about the apartment for an hour, doing chores that don't need doing, refolding already folded clothes, washing clean dishes, anything to busy his hands. Nothing busies his brain.

He shifts because his shoulder and his knee are both agonising after a rough few games, and he knows the pain will go away when he's a bunny.

And then, as soon as he's a bunny again, he hops over to the door and noses his way through the crack human Scott had left.

Human Scott didn't plan this, he doesn't think, not consciously anyway. But bunny Scott is tiny and frightened and he needs 5704, so that's where he goes.

The door opens almost immediately when he scratches it, which startles him so badly he freezes. But it's little Rohan that opens the door in his Dora the Explorer PJs, with a wide, excited smile.

"Hi," Rohan says quietly, "I knew you would come back, bunny."

Rohan lowers himself to the floor of the hallway and sits cross legged and waits. He doesn't reach for Scott, he just sits there with his big hopeful eyes, and Scott could cry. He's so excited and he wants to cuddle, and he's still giving Scott the chance to back out. He's so sweet.

Scott hops forward and sniffs at his knee, then climbs his way onto Rohan's lap and basks in the warm fuzzy feeling he gets when Rohan's hands start smoothing over his ears.

Dev appears behind Rohan after just a couple of minutes, and then Scott is inside 5704 again.

He stays for three hours. The kids both take turns cuddling him, he has a brief nap on Dev's shoulder, and Simran (the Mom, who's name he's finally learned) feeds him vegetables while she cooks. He gets a small slice of carrot, a few leaves of parsley, and a blueberry.

She has no way of knowing that the taste of blueberries makes his stomach flip inside out, but he thinks he'll reject that next time. Politely, of course, because Simran is an angel and he doesn't want to offend her, but he can't handle it.

Scott asks to be let out this time. He goes and sits by the front door and paws at it. They all take turns saying goodbye— head scraches, mostly, but a kiss between the ears from Penny— and then Dev opens the door for him and he hops away and heads back up to the most soulless, bland, still residence he's ever set foot in and sits on the floor wondering what he would have to do for life to feel like it does in 5704.

---

The next time it's deliberate.

He thinks about it on the Saturday, and he finds himself looking forward to it, no dread or anxiety about the situation, just pure excitement. He'll get held and loved and fed and looked after, and he can't wait.

He goes a little earlier this time, he doesn't wait until the evening. He shifts just after lunch and heads straight down in the hopes that he won't interrupt Simran's cooking this time and could spend time with her, too.

It's Simran who opens the door this time, and she looks down at him with a smile.

"I told them you'd come back." She says, clearly herself happy about the fact.

She steps aside to let him in like she's welcoming a guest, which excites him even more than being carried in. He's free to go to whoever he wants, now.

Rohan is sat on the sofa in the living room and his face breaks out into a beaming smile when he sees Scott hop in. He flops off the sofa, down onto the soft rug beneath it, and lays down flat. He peers his head to look at Scott and opens his arms.

Scott hops over and tucks himself between Rohan's arm and chest.

Rohan lets out a content little sigh and brings his other hand up to smooth over Scott's mane. He doesn't grab or squeeze, he never does, he just holds Scott close and relaxes.

Scott closes his eyes. He doesn't fall asleep, it's a different kind of resting that he only achieves in this form. Any situation this warm, safe, and loving makes him fall into this almost hypnotised space. He used to get like this all the time with Kip, but before that it had been fifteen years since he last experienced it.

Dev brings him half a strawberry at one point, and then Penny comes and has her time with him. She scoops him up and sets him on her lap as she watches TV, her hand idly brushing through his fur the whole time.

He leaves when Simran opens the door to go to the store, and she smiles down at him again.

"See you next week, right, bunny?" She asks, and he bumps his head against her leg.

Yes. Same time next week.

---

The next week Dev and Rohan aren't home, it's just Simran and Penny, and they're excited about it. They're both sat on either end of the sofa with a blanket tucked on the cushion between them, like they're expecting him to want to sit there.

He doesn't.

He climbs into Simran's lap instead and she laughs about it but doesn't make any attempt to move him. She sits there petting him while Penny tells him all about the homework she's doing— research on coral reefs, apparently, and what changes happen to them when the water is polluted. Scott's bunny mind is a little too simple to understand exactly what she's saying, but he gets the jist of it. Coral good, throwing trash in water bad. He thinks he agrees with that.

Every time Penny struggles to articulate a thought or figure out her next move Simran is there to guide her. She's always gentle about it, always just helpful and calm and the perfect person to help with things like this. She might just be a perfect person, actually, and Scott adores her.

He adores them all. This is a real family. It sounds silly, he knows that, but it hits him at certain moments. After so long without one of his own he does sometimes forget what it looks and feels like, but Simran's family has reminded him.

He already understood what Kip meant when he said he missed his Dad, and when he said he couldn't keep lying to his family. He already got it. But now it's even more obvious how hard that must have been, because Scott can't imagine making any of these people do that.

He was selfish and cruel because he didn't remember. He's heard so many stories about George Grady, Kip's straight up told him that he's the best Dad he ever could've asked for, but he didn't have the ability to picture it in his mind.

He can do that very easily now. It would be something very similar to 5704. Kip would like 5704. Maybe George would too.

If Scott were a better person he could have them all meet, but he's not, so they never will.

He scratches the door to leave when Simran mentions starting to prepare their food, because he doesn't want to be in the way. Simran and Penny both give him a kiss between the ears this time, and then they let him go.

---

It's a Sunday again. He's been in number 5704 since ten this morning. Rohan fell asleep on the rug again with one hand on Scott's back, and nobody moved them. Simran draped a blanket over Rohan, made a little nest out of it for Scott to lay in, and that's where he's remained.

Penny sat next to them for a while, petting Scott's head and running her hands down his ears.

He realises he's lost track of time when he wakes up from his third nap of the day to see Simran dishing out dinner. He gets up quickly from his spot on Penny's lap and makes his way to the door.

"Ah, finally time, hey?" Dev asks with a heavy sigh as he walks over to the door.

He gives Scott a chin scratch and sends him on his way.

It's the longest time he's spent at 5704 since he started coming, and it's been wonderful. He leaves the apartment completely and entirely without thoughts.

He realises once he's in the hallway on his own floor that he'd stayed far later than he'd meant to. He usually limits himself to a couple of hours, but the sun is already setting so he must have been gone a long time. Still, he feels a lot better than he did this morning, so he's not too upset about it. It's not like he's got anything better to do, anyway.

He slips through the little crack in the door then hops just twice into the apartment before freezing.

Every hair on his body stands on end.

There's someone in here.

His body knows before he actually processes it in his mind— that's the thing about being in bunny form, it's all instinct. And instinct says, his body says; familiar, safe, warm, love.

Kip.

Kip is sitting on his couch, still in his jacket, like he's not allowed himself to get comfortable. His phone is in his hands and his elbows are on his knees and his left leg is bouncing nervously while his teeth dig into his lower lip.

He looks upset.

Scott takes a few more hops into the room, and Kip's head jerks to the side when he notices the movement.

Kip stares at him, his face relaxing. Scott stares back, his own body and face no doubt doing the same.

"I've been calling you all day, Scott." Kip says seriously, "Your phone just— It kept going to voicemail. I thought you… I don't know. I let myself in to check you were okay. I've been here for three hours."

Scott stays very still. He's not sure how to respond to this.

"Scott, I can see you," Kip reminds him, "I know it's you. Will you talk to me, please?"

Scott should shift now. Kip wants to talk to him, and he should want that too.

But he doesn't. Last time they talked was one of the worst moments of his life, the thing that started his descent into whatever the fuck he's doing right now. He really doesn't think he could handle it getting worse.

He hops further into the room, closer to Kip, but he doesn't shift. He doesn't want to. Being a human talking to Kip hurts too much. Kip can't say anything serious and scary when he's a bunny. It wouldn't be right.

Kip stares at him for a moment longer, his lips pursed. His eyes are doing something complex and painful, and Scott can't handle looking at it so he chooses to stare at the sofa beside him instead.

"Where were you?" Kip asks, "You've got stuff on you."

Scott's not sure whether the stuff in question is some of Simran's specially prepared bunny snacks or some kind of craft supply from the kids, but either way it gives him away. Kip knows he's been with other people. Kip knows he's invaded someone else's life now, too, and he's done it in an even more cowardly way than he did with Kip.

"Are you okay?" Kip asks next, and that one hurts.

No. He hasn't been okay for… a very long time now, but he's been worse since Kip left. It's like being thirteen again, every horrible thought in his brain buzzing far too loud.

Scott feels his ears flatten as he looks down at the rug under his feet. He doesn't want Kip to see whatever this is in his eyes, because he'll notice. He always notices.

"Scott," Kip says, so softly, even softer than the family downstairs, "Come here."

He reaches his hand down to the ground, palm up.

The same way he'd done that first time. Scott stares at the hand.

He knows how that hand feels. He knows when he's in there, curled up, he feels safe and warm and loved. He knows he loves the feeling. He knows it's even better than what he gets downstairs.

So he crosses the space between them and climbs in, and then he's on Kip's chest and he could cry. Kip's so warm, that's the first thing he notices. Warmer than everyone downstairs, warmer than his own furry body. The second thing he notices is Kip's heartbeat— it's too fast. His chest is rising and falling too quickly and his heartbeat is too fast and his other hand, the one not cradling Scott, is balled into his own jeans.

He's scared. He's been sat in Scott's dark apartment for three hours, calling a phone that's turned off on his nightstand, and he was scared.

Scott presses his nose into Kip's neck and inhales. He smells like home.

Kip lets out an exhale at the same time- one that's long and slow and shaky. His hand slips out from underneath Scott, allowing him to rest on his chest instead, and uses it to stroke down Scott's back. Scott feels a shiver run through his body.

He'd been lying to himself about downstairs being enough. It was better than nothing, yes, absolutely, but it wasn't like this.

Kip drops his chin to rest on the top of his head, "I missed this."

Scott closes his eyes. He's glad he can't talk right now, because it would all come pouring out. He'd tell Kip everything, every thought and every feeling he's had over the last couple of months, every time he's found himself hugging his own body to try to feel okay again.

It would be awful. He'd hate himself so much afterwards.

They sit like that for a while in the dark living room of the apartment. Scott gets to listen to and feel Kip's heartbeat calm back down to his usual, all while pressing his face into Kip's skin. He's enjoyed his time with the family downstairs, it was so much better than being alone, but it wasn't this.

Nothing else will ever be this.

Kip is comfort. He is safety and warmth and love and happiness personified.

And it's just so easy to pretend. He can rest his head on Kip's solid chest, listen to the familiar heartbeat, and pretend they're fine. He can pretend they've travelled back in time and he's here because Kip loves him, because Kip wants to hold him. He can pretend things are good again, that the loneliness never carved a permanent place in his heart.

He doesn't want to shift. He knows he has to, at some point, but a part of him wonders if Kip would allow him to stay if he stayed like this. Kip could take him around and introduce him to whoever he wanted like this— nobody would know. It could be so easy, and it sounds like such a perfect life.

When the shift finally happens it's not by choice. He just blinks and he's not curled up on Kip's chest any more, he's sprawled out on his lap and too big and probably causing his legs to go numb.

Scott still doesn't move straight away, even though he knows this. Kip doesn't ask him to. Kip's hand doesn't still, either, which is… indescribable in how good it feels. His fingers continue gently running up and down Scott's shoulder for a few minutes, letting them both adjust to the situation they've found themselves in.

"Okay," Kip says eventually, "Talk?"

Scott nods. He sits up and scoots himself back off Kip's lap onto the free seat next to him, and immediately misses it. The seat is cold and still and he hates it.

"I was downstairs with a family that lives there." He explains. His voice his hoarse and scratchy— he hasn't spoken today. He has nobody to speak to most days.

Kip waits patiently while he clears his throat.

"I've been going down there. As a rabbit, obviously. They don't know it's me."

They can't know it's him. That's the key to everything, it turns out. 5704 love him when he's a bunny, they hold him and hug him and Kip does the same. Everyone loves the bunny.

It would be nice if someone loved the man.

"How long for?"

"A few weeks."

Kip takes a sharp breath.

"Scott."

"It's fine," Scott insists, because he knows how it sounds, "I'm fine."

"Scott."

He sounds like he's pleading, and Scott doesn't know how to respond. What he's been doing is… weird. He hadn't really thought about it before, but now he's got Kip's eyes on him and he can feel the judgement. He's invading a family's home, hanging around under false pretences, of course it's weird. He's one accidental shift away from being considered a home invader.

"Why?" Kip asks, "Why not just introduce yourself? You're their neighbour, and you're you, they'd welcome you in and talk to you just fine."

"I don't want them to fucking talk to me, Kip," He snaps, "I want—"

Scott cuts himself off with a shake of his head. I want to be held. How pathetic. It sounds like something that would come out of a toddler's mouth. Kip already knows he's a coward and an idiot, he doesn't need to know that deep inside there's a little boy crying out for his mother's arms, too.

"You want what?" Kip asks, that worried little crease between his brows getting deeper.

Scott looks away from him, focusing down on his own legs instead.

He can't do this while looking at him. It hurts too much.

"I used to know how to do this," He explains to his own lap, "I used to be fine doing this, but then you happened and I— I can't anymore. I just can't."

He sees Kip's hand come up, come so close to his knee, but then it drops back to the sofa. Scott swallows the noise of pain down. It's fine. Kip can not touch him— that's fine. He can handle that.

"What can't you do?"

Scott lets out a sharp, bitter laugh. What can he do is a much shorter list lately. He can't do anything anymore.

"I can't just keep going like this. I can't… I need more, now." He says, and then because he's bitter and angry, adds "You ruined me."

"What?"

He sounds hurt, and Scott hates it. He's being awful and he knows it, it's hurting him too, but if he stops he's afraid he'll become honest, and that's far more terrifying.

"Do you think I wanted to hurt you?" Kip asks, "Scott, I didn't—"

"I know!" Scott interrupts, he'd never accuse Kip of doing this on purpose, Kip is too kind and good to do that, "But you just kept— you held me. You hugged me and you held me and you kissed me and you ruined me. You ruined twenty years of it in three fucking months."

It doesn't make sense. It took twenty years to build these walls, it should take just as long to break them down. He's saying it took three months, because that seems like the reasonable option, but it didn't. The second he saw Kip asleep on that counter he was done for. All this, all the kindness and the most gentle loving touches he'll ever experience, they were all just fuel added to the fire.

"You're going down there to be… held?"

"Yes. And I know how fucking pathetic it is, okay?" Scott chokes out, "I know."

"Scott, don't—"

"I'm not asking for it from you!" Scott clarifies quickly, "I know you don't owe me anything. I know this is done. I'm just… yeah. I'm sneaking downstairs as a rabbit to be held."

He laughs after saying it, but it doesn't feel funny. It feels like he might start crying, so he needs to let something out, and he chooses to laugh.

"I didn't realise how lonely you were, I don't think," Kip says quietly after a moment, "I didn't know how bad it was."

Scott looks up at him and sees nothing but concern.

"I'm not looking for sympathy." He adds. He really doesn't want Kip's sympathy right now. It wouldn't change anything, and it would only make him feel worse.

"That's kind of part of the problem," Kip says gently, "You've been alone so long you don't know how to ask for things anymore."

Scott snorts out a bitter laugh. As if that's all he has to do? Ask for Kip and he'll come back?

No. That's not how it works. He'd have to change his whole life, risk everything, ruin everything he's worked so hard to build, before it could even be a possibility. And he's him, he ruins everything, he taints things just by touching them, so he'd lose Kip again anyway. And then he'd have nothing.

And the worst part is he still considers it. Every day he wonders if just giving in would be easier. Just log onto his disused dusty instagram account, post 'I'm gay', and leave it at that. He'd be erased from the league within a week, never have to worry about any of it ever again. He'd be jobless and hated, but at least he'd have Kip for a while longer.

"I'm fine. It's fine," Scott lies, he can feel that it's a lie, Kip probably knows it is too, "It's not the same. It's not—" You. "It's enough. I'm fine."

Kip lets out a shaky sigh. He runs a hand through his own hair and then just sits, silently, staring straight ahead of himself.

Scott doesn't like it. Having Kip here, in his apartment, so close and yet not touching him or even talking to him is actually worse than being here alone, it turns out. He really hadn't known things could get worse, but there we go.

"Why did you come here?" Scott asks after a few minutes of silence have passed.

"I just wanted to talk to you, and hear your voice," Kip responds quietly, "I just needed that today."

Scott wants to ask why so badly, but he knows he shouldn't. Whatever Kip says will only make everything worse again. If Kip shows even the slightest sign of needing him the way he needs Kip it'll all be fucked up all over again.

"I was worried, Scott," He adds, "I needed to know you're okay."

"I am."

Kip sends him a look that says he disagrees.

"I'm working on it." He amends.

He is. 5704 terrifies him, enough that it should stop him going there, but it doesn't. He keeps going anyway, because it feels better, and surely that has to count for something? He's getting what he needs. He's found a workaround. He does something scary because it helps. That's healthy, that's good. Kip can't be angry at him for that.

"Are you going to go back?"

Scott nods. He doesn't think he could cope without 5704.

"Are they good to you? Kind, gentle?"

Scott nods again. Every day he thinks about how grateful he is to have such an amazing family with such kind people just three floors beneath him.

Kip stands suddenly, "Okay, I get it. I can go. I'm sorry for coming here— I freaked out, I was worried about you. I shouldn't have come in here. I get that now. Fuck me for caring about you, I guess."

His voice is angry, but there's a shakiness to it that Scott knows well enough, and hates enough, to recognise as sadness. Kip's looking away now but Scott can still, in his mind, see the hurt on his face.

"I'm sorry." Scott whispers.

He wants to fix whatever this is in whatever way he can, but he's terrified. He doesn't want to make this worse for Kip, he doesn't want to hurt Kip, he's never wanted that. But he's hurting, so everything's coming out angry and laced with bitterness. It's not Kip's fault that he was the only person Scott allowed close.

Kip freezes at the apology. His hand twitches at his side and Scott wants, desperately, to reach out and take it in his own.

He remembers when they used to lay entangled with each other, their hands curled together while they talked about everything and nothing. He remembers pulling Kip's hand up to his own face and kissing every part of it, so grateful to have it to hold.

"Can I just… What do you need, Scott?' Kip asks, still staring at the wall opposite rather than at him, "What do you actually need to not be… this?"

Scott opens his mouth, and nothing comes out.

He tries again. There's a lot of answers to that question in his mind, but the biggest one, the main answer that would actually make a difference, is just one word: you.

He knows he can't say that. Especially when he's just been nothing but an asshole since he shifted back. Kip's come here, worried, scared, and he's been a selfish asshole again. Some things really never change.

Kip turns back to him and his face falls.

"Scott." He breathes.

Scott feels his lip start to wobble.

He hates this. He hates this so much. Everything he could ever possibly want is stood three feet in front of him and he still can't reach out and grab it, how is that fair? Why would the universe tease him like that, give him everything he's ever wanted in his wildest dreams and then take it away so quickly?

He doesn't want to cry in front of Kip. He's managed to not cry so far, not since the day after Kip left, and he's scared if he starts he'll never stop.

"Hey," Kip says softly, taking a step towards him, "Hey. Look at me. You're okay."

Scott shakes his head. He's definitely not okay. Whatever this is that he's feeling, this gaping emptiness inside him, that's not okay.

Gentle hands cup his face and Scott startles for a moment, but Kip looks so soft and kind that he just gives in. Fuck it. Kip's already worried he's about to jump off the roof or whatever, he already knows he's miserable. What does crying in front of him really even do?

His eyes sting, and then he feels the first tear roll and he knows they're not stopping any time soon. Kip goes blurry, as does the rest of the world but the rest of the world's felt blurry for weeks now, and Scott takes a shuddering breath. He's grateful for the hands on his face right now, because he's not sure he'd believe Kip was really here otherwise.

"Tell me what you need, please," Kip begs again, "You shouldn't have to feel like this."

"I don't know," Scott answers, hiccuping in the middle, "I don't know what I need. I don't know if I can be okay."

Kip pulls him into a hug, and Scott breaks. He sobs openly onto Kip's shoulder, feels both their bodies shake with the intensity of it, and can do nothing to stop it.

Kip's hand rubs circles on his back while the other holds him as close as possible. They're pressed so tightly together Scott can feel every contour of Kip's body, and he still raises his arms up to Kip's shoulders to try to pull him even closer. He's being greedy, and he doesn't care. Not right now.

"I just needed to not be alone." Scott chokes out, "I fucking hate it."

Kip makes a soft little wounded noise and brings the hand that was rubbing his back up to curl in his hair instead. He remembers things like that, like how playing with Scott's hair instantly relaxes him. He remembers all the little quirks and specifics of a person, because he's so good at this. Kip was meant to love and be loved by so many people— it's just part of his DNA.

"I found something that works for me," Scott says, as steady as he can, "I go down there, I get what I need, I come back here and I'm miserable. Please just let me have this."

Kip pulls back just far enough to look at his face, and it feels like he's too exposed. He knows what he looks like right now. The outside finally matches the inside.

Kip reaches up to wipe the tears from under his eyes, but it just causes more to flow, so he lets out a little choked laugh.

"I could do it, you know," Kip offers carefully, "Be the one to hold you when you need it."

Scott can't think of anything better, and he also can't think of anything worse.

Would it ever get easier to see him leave afterwards? He doubts it very much. He can't imagine saying goodbye to Kip and it not being with a kiss and an I love you and feeling okay about it. He can't imagine knowing, every time it happens, that it's not real and not wanting a bolt of lightning to strike him down.

"Not as, like— It doesn't have to be something, y'know?" Kip clarifies, "I'm not trying to— I just…I could come here, and you could be the bunny, and I could be here. That's all."

So casual. That's all! As if that couldn't literally be the difference between life and death.

"Friends do that, right?" Kip adds.

Scott chokes down another sob.

"I wouldn't know."

He'd love to know. He'd love to have the type of friends he could invite around to his apartment and make it feel like 5704. Eat together, talk, maybe even hug. He'd love that. It would probably make things a little less difficult.

Kip shakes his head like he can't believe the words, and Scott gets it. Elena, Shawn, Maria, Kyle— he's learned so much about them via Kip's stories, and he knows that's normal for them. They wrap themselves around each other without a second thought, they love each other in a real, tangible way, and they comfort each other when things are hard.

It sounds wonderful. Scott is green with envy for that type of friendship.

"Please let me do this, Scott. I was really worried about you earlier, and I still am now, and I just want to see you. Know you're okay, you know?"

Kip's kind. It's one of the worst things about him. He says things like that with his big rich brown eyes full of concern, with his heart on his sleeve, with his every feeling plastered on his beautiful face, and he thinks nothing of it.

"You don't have to worry about me." Scott lies. Of course it's a lie, but what else is he supposed to say?

"Well I am, and I'm going to," Kip responds, that stubborn little frown Scott's missed so much back on his face, "More, now, because now I know you're doing this."

The sentence feels strange. It is a nice thought that somewhere out there, someone's wondering if he's okay as a person. He knows the team and the fans are wondering if he's about to keel over, but they don't care. Not like Kip does. Kip cares if he, Scott, the person, is okay, not number 21. Not the captain.

"I don't know if I can have you here, Kip." Scott admits eventually. It comes out a little quieter than he intends.

He'd love it— of course he would. But that goodbye every time, that would break him. He only has so many goodbyes for the people he loves, and he's used up an awful lot of them already.

"Oh."

He can hear the disappointment in the one short word, but he still looks up. It's a stupid thing to do, because Kip looks just like he did the night he left. His eyes are big and shiny and that sad crease between his brows is back and his lower lip is jutting out slightly.

He's still the most beautiful person Scott's ever seen. Tragically beautiful now, though.

"I don't… maybe this is selfish, and I'm sorry, but I don't want you to just disappear from my life. I miss you."

Scott closes his eyes. He's not sure why, it doesn't do much to protect him from the words, but he can't see those shiny eyes anymore at least. Kip missing him isn't really something he'd considered. Why would he? What is there to miss? The same four fucking walls for weeks on end? Not being able to even look at each other when they're at the same place? Lying to his father and his friends and everyone else that loves him so, so much?

"If you think I'm wrong then tell me, Scott, please, but— I think us just… not seeing each other at all, I think that would be bad for both of us."

There's no winning here, and Scott knows it. Never seeing Kip again would break him, and seeing Kip again would too.

"It doesn't have to be this way. Please let me help you."

Scott tries for a response, but he has nothing. There are no words that could encapsulate how it feels to have Kip, his Kip, the love of his life, pleading in front of him like this. Pleading for him.

"Scott, I was really, really scared earlier. I thought you… I thought something really bad had happened to you. And I had noone to turn to. I couldn't tell anyone. I couldn't call for help. Do you know how scary that was? Do you get that?"

Scott gets it, so he nods. If the situation had been reversed, if he'd been the one sat on the sofa with his phone in his hand and no idea where Kip was, if he was alive or dead, he would have broken. Every secret would have been told, and he wouldn't have stopped until he'd had Kip back in his arms.

He really hadn't meant to do that to him. Kip's text him a few times over the last few weeks, but they always felt like a formality. Like an I don't hate you, or a please don't kill yourself or anyone else. He just hadn't known Kip was worrying like this.

"So even if you don't physically want me here, please call me. Or text me, whatever. Just answer me, please, and don't make me come here again thinking I'll find your body."

That's fair. He should have text back all those other times, but every time he read the messages they hurt and he just spent the next few hours wallowing in his own misery instead.

"I didn't mean to scare you." Scott says, and he really does mean it, "I'm sorry."

"I know." Kip promises, and Scott can tell he really means it, too, "I know you wouldn't do that."

Kip takes a step back, and Scott misses him already.

"Just let me know what you decide, okay?" Kip asks softly, "Even if you say no now, if you change your mind I'm only a call away."

Scott wants to kiss him so badly.

"You are such a good person that it hurts, you know that?" He asks instead.

Kip leans up on his tip toes and presses a soft, chaste kiss to Scott's cheek.

"Call me, okay?" He asks, less soft this time, more desperate.

Scott can't even answer. He can feel the spot Kip's lips touched tingling like it's now alive, and that's exactly how it feels. He feels like he's been dead for weeks and Kip just came in and did some Frankenstein shit and made him alive again.

"Goodnight, Scott."

And then Kip leaves. Scott watches him go, waiting for the shooting pain in his chest he experienced last time Kip left but it never comes.

This isn't the same as then.

Scott feels better than he did yesterday, and that's not how he expected this to go. He feels hopeful that maybe, just maybe, losing his relationship with Kip doesn't truly have to mean losing Kip. It still hurt like Hell to have him here, and he doubts that will ever change, but at least his memories have been renewed. Kip's arms around him, Kip's hand on his face, Kip's fingers in his hair, Kip's lips on his cheek, Kip's heartbeat beneath his bunny body— it's all fresh in his memory, now.

When he finally turns on his phone again late that evening, he sees all the missed calls and texts from the afternoon. He reads several pages of panic stricken text messages, notices the times between them getting shorter as Kip got more scared, sees the apologies at the end after he'd said he was going to come here.

And then, much more recently, there's three more.

I mean it!! You will answer me if you know what's good for you, Scott Hunter!!

I was about to chew you out for not answering me AGAIN but then I remembered you dont have your phone on rn so you can get away with it for tonight ONLY. if i dont have a single response by tomorrow morning i am coming back over and making you cry again. and yes this is a threat

And I mean it about coming over when you need someone too. I'm proud of you for finding something that works with the family downstairs, but I think you need more. I'm not trying to pressure you, you really should think about it, but I do want you to be constantly reminded that I love you, and I care about you, and I'm here for you♥️

Scott screenshots that final message and emails it to himself. Just in case something happens to his phone, he wants that one safe.

Then he shifts, curls up in a ball on the part of sofa Kip was sat on, the part that now still smells faintly of him, and sleeps for seven uninterrupted hours.