Chapter Text
1:30 on Wednesday could not come soon enough. As Grian sat on his twin mattress, scribbling like a madman in his sketchbook, he couldn't help but think of Mumbo.
"You've been glaring at your sketchbook like it betrayed you," Jimmy piped up from his own bed. Also on the mattress with him was Joel, who was excitedly retelling the events of his date with Lizzie from the previous day. Joel nodded in agreement and stood, abruptly crossing the room and snatching the sketchbook from Grian's death grip.
"Surely it doesn't look bad enough to warrant—" Joel paused as he finally got a good look at the open pages. "Grian, this is blummin' perfect." At that, Jimmy hopped off the bed and leaned over Joel's shoulder to analyze the page. His jaw dropped and his eyes flitted between the book and Grian's shocked expression.
"Why have you been holding out on me?! Bud, I would commission you to draw me a stick figure, that's how good you are!"
"Surely you're exaggerating," Grian brushed it off reflexively. He reached out and gently eased the book out of Joel's hand before closing the hard cover. "I'm being critical of myself. What if Mumbo sees these thumbnails and thinks less of my skill? I can do better than these." Joel and Jimmy exchanged a worried glance, and Grian narrowed his eyes. "Quit it. I'll just make better ideas. Now, I heard there's a new indoor obstacle course at the trampoline park in town. Skynet, I think it's called. Let's go!" Grian breathed a sigh of relief when his best friends latched onto the diversion, and before he knew it, he was being whisked away to have fun at Skynet.
Fine arts was not a cheap subject to major in, by any means. Grian winced when he saw the price in his online shopping cart, and he triple-checked the numbers on every object he had selected to make sure the total was correct. Unfortunately, three mini RGB ringlights (with tripods), a neon tie, and two canisters of spray paint did not create a cost-effective cart.
"It's necessary… it'll all be worth it…" Grian mumbled to himself reassuringly. He squeezed his eyes shut as he confirmed his order, and then exhaled once there was no going back. "I suppose it's time to straighten up."
Wednesday would be here before he knew it, after all.
"Welcome in, Mumbo," Grian said as he stepped aside to make space. Mumbo walked into his dorm, one backpack strap thrown over his left shoulder as if he had left his last class in a hurry. Grian watched as he took in the vastly different decorations from the two halves of the room, noting the band posters on Jimmy's side—bands that Mumbo didn't recognize, probably. He didn't seem like the type to listen to The Rejects or Gem and the Scotts, despite both of those bands being comprised of their classmates, Jimmy included. Grian saw his eyes snag on the collection of mushrooms growing on the windowsill.
"I thought you didn't have a green thumb?" Mumbo asked as he approached the potted fungi.
"I don't, but I am rather good at growing mushrooms. My friend, Scar, calls me Mother Spore. He isn't a fan of my garden, though! We have a bit of a turf war going on, where he sometimes steals the pots and I have to visit him to get them back—" Grian hesistated, suddenly aware of his rambling about his other close friend. Mumbo almost definitely didn't find this story entertaining in the same way Grian did. Before his embarrassment could spiral, though, Mumbo burst out into laughter.
"A turf war? All as a ploy to get you to visit? He's clever! This 'Scar' guy seems interesting, and if it isn't overstepping, I would love to meet him, too." The way Mumbo spoke caught Grian's attention. He was treading carefully, but the intent was visible: he wanted to meet Grian's friends. Mumbo continued to look around the dorm, but Grian's mind was flailing. Distractedly, Grian thought that Mumbo looked like he was searching for something. After a moment, he saw Grian's desk chair and relaxed minutely. He set his backpack on the chair, and Grian snapped out of his thoughts. He quickly picked the conversation back up.
"Oh, actually, he's in our Composition Studies class! He sits next to Lizzie, on the other side of you. I'm surprised you haven't noticed him before! He's very popular." Mumbo had the decency to look sheepish as he averted his eyes and said,
"Goodness, I can't believe I missed that. I guess I'm more oblivious to my surroundings than I thought." He unzipped the big compartment on his backpack and rifled through it as Grian talked.
"I get a bit lost in thought sometimes, too. I was in Intro to Oil Painting yesterday and my mind kept wandering to this project! It's been stressing me out big-time," Grian sighed. He continued to watch Mumbo sift through his bag. After a moment, his face lit up triumphantly and he stood up straight again. He made eye contact with Grian and held out a clear plastic takeout container.
"I got you a slice of cake as a thank-you for Saturday. It's from that new bakery, the Red Velvet Keep? I think that's what it's called, at least. It's a bit of a silly name." Grian paused for a second, looking down at the treat. Two layers of moist red velvet were held together with a generous helping of cream cheese icing, and Grian's mouth watered. He eagerly took the container from Mumbo and smiled gratefully.
"Funny you should say that, I actually got you something, too! The Gluten Guys cafe—oh, that's where I study sometimes—had fresh sourdough loaves today, so I got one for you. Although, I don't know if I'd call it fresh anymore, considering it's been in here all day." Grian walked over to his bedside table and grabbed the brown paper bag sitting on top. Mumbo's eyes welled with what could only be described as adoration as he took the bag, and the two of them sat on the floor to eat.
"So, should we discuss your project before I start modeling? I'm unsure what to do, or what to wear, so I packed two extra outfits," Mumbo rambled. Grian laughed lightheartedly and reached up onto his bed to grab his sketchbook. He flipped to the most recently used page, bracing himself before turning the sketchbook to face Mumbo.
"These are some thumbnails I did, nothing too special or anything, but they convey the ideas I want to pursue. I bought supplies to help capture the vibe I'm going for, so when we're done eating, I'll show you what we're working with." Grian wrung his fingers as Mumbo's eyes swept over the thumbnails. They were rough sketches with chicken-scratch lineart and only vague ideas of color placements, but Mumbo looked positively enamored.
"Grian! This is— mate, I'm not sure you've noticed, but you're, like, some kind of art prodigy!" Mumbo exclaimed. He gently placed the sketchbook on the floor between them, so they could both see it, and he pointed to the fourth thumbnail in the lineup. "This perspective would be so hard for me to capture in a drawing, but you did it expertly. The camera is looking up at the subject, but not as intensely as a worm's-eye view. Even in a sketch form, I can tell precisely what you're trying to convey. This is my favorite. Er—but I'm quite fond of the others, too!" Grian couldn't fight the smile that upturned his lips. Mumbo was so earnest in his compliments.
"Thanks, dude. Um! Okay, so we can start with that one, then. Are you done eating?" Grian asked. He had practically licked the container clean, and Mumbo had slowed down his chewing significantly. He gave a cheesy thumbs-up and awkwardly maneuvered to a standing position. His limbs were too long to get up from the floor without a hassle, and Grian chuckled at his fumbling. "I got three ring lights, a tie, and spray paint. For this picture, I just need you to switch your tie." Mumbo lifted his hands up to his chest, where he made quick work of untying the knot around his neck. He quickly replaced it with Grian's tie, a wacky neon thing. As he started looping it under and over itself, Grian noticed that he was creating something more intricate. Upon noticing Grian's staring, Mumbo said, "It's an eldredge knot! I thought it might pop a little bit more. Er, should I have just done the normal one?" Grian quickly shook his head.
"No, you made a good call!" Mumbo deflated with relief. "Alright, so I guess you just need to… stand. Like, maybe lean back a little? Oh! Put your left hand in your pocket," Grian instructed, and Mumbo complied, "and then slip your right pointer finger into the neckhole of your tie, like you're loosening it. Tilt your head a bit to the left, chin up." Once Mumbo was fully posed, Grian crouched slightly to mimic the perspective he would be drawing from.
It was perfect.
He scrambled to unpack the ringlights and plug them into the surge protector beneath his bed, and he adjusted each of their colors to his liking. The light shining up at his chest and catching on the bottom of his chin was a deep magenta, and he was backlit by cyan. His face was illuminated by a warm color, not quite yellow, but not a sterile fluroescent white. Grian fumbled to grab his thick paper sketchpad from his dresser drawer. Once he had it and an array of graphite pencils, he sat criss-cross on the floor and looked up at Mumbo adoringly. His hands got to work sketching out the angles and planes that Grian's mind had memorized front to back.
Mumbo tried his hardest not to talk, as he didn't want to disturb Grian's flow, but he was so curious. They hadn't discussed which mediums Grian would be using, but this particular picture seemed to be watercolor, if the paper type and the nearby cup of water were any indication. Grian hummed to himself, occasionally letting a few lyrics slip from his mouth unnoticed. It was a song about honey, but oddly paced to the tune of that one ABBA song. Mumbo suppressed a laugh, but Grian could see his chest shaking slightly with the effort.
"Joel wrote a song for his music class a few weeks ago. It's actually pretty catchy!"
"Oh, trust me, I've heard it on loop since that assignment came out! Any time I walked past his room, I'd hear, 'honey, honey, honey' for weeks. Weeks, Grian!"
When the first of the three pieces was done, Grian arched his back and sighed in relief at the way his spine popped. He stood and stretched his legs, and Mumbo switched his tie back to his signature red. Grian's face was unhealthily red, soaking in the memory of staring at Mumbo's face for an hour and forty-five minutes with a valid excuse. As soon as he had declared this painting complete, he snapped his sketchpad shut and told Mumbo that it was only fair that his project be kept a surprise as well. They diligently cleaned up their mess while exchanging idle chatter.
"Well, Grian, we each have only two more photos to complete! Will you be coming back to my apartment on Saturday?" Mumbo looked hopeful, and it made Grian absolutely giddy.
"Yeah! I'll be back at the same time. I can't wait to see what your next idea is." Grian walked Mumbo to the door, despite it being only three strides away. Mumbo looked like there was something on his mind, something else he wanted to say, but the look was gone just as fast as it had appeared. Maybe he doesn't want to leave. I know I don't want him to.
"Same to you! Goodbye, Grian!" With that, Mumbo opened the door and left the dorm. A blanket of silence settled over the small room, and Grian was grateful that Mumbo had helped to pack the ringlights before he left. He flopped down onto his bed and adjusted to stare up at the ceiling.
"This is too much for my heart to handle," he said to nobody, before his eyes slid shut and he promptly fell asleep.