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Grian’s to-do list was running dangerously low. That wasn’t to say that it was empty, he would never find himself twiddling his fingers with nothing to do on the Hermitcraft server, but it did mean that the number of excuses he could use to put off doing the back of his Mansion was growing smaller by the second. With the Terf War over, Grian really was running out of reasons not to do it.
Looking at the sprawling building before him, he sighed, and he supposed if he was finally going to work on the back of his Mansion he should grab the materials he needed for it. Despite the chest monsters that took over most of the front lawn the items that he required were in his storage system, and so he started to head inside. If he walked a little slower in the hopes that a distraction might fall from the sky, who was going to know?
“Grian!”
He chuckled, his lips curling into a faint smile. It might have been faint, it might have been distant, but with the sounds of rocket fire he could hear the distraction he’d wished for getting quickly closer. The voice came from the nearby jungle where he’d first made his home, and he turned around just in time to watch Scar burst out from the trees with another rocket fired.
“G!”
Surely it would’ve been easier to just use the nether portal, but Grian had learned it was better not to question Scar’s thought process. More often than not, that only ended with more confusion.
It was then that Grian realised that Scar had set off yet another rocket, despite already being far close enough to glide down and land next to him. He was hurtling toward him at an almost concerning speed, and he was aiming straight for him. Grian opened his mouth and put out his hands, ready to call out to warn Scar that he was going to crash, but he didn’t have time. Instead, he felt hands move beneath his shoulders, he felt his feet leave the floor below and felt himself rise up into the sky.
It seemed that the force Scar had been travelling forward with was no match for two people and his momentum quickly dropped, but Scar still had enough time to carry them both down the rest of the hallway and land carefully at the other side of the room.
“Blimey Scar, have you been practicing flying?” Grian asked, laughing as he did. “I think that’s the best landing you’ve had all season!”
“Flattery isn’t going to work on me.” Scar teased, and that was the moment Grian realised the position he was in.
His back was pressed against spruce planks, Scar had a hand either side of his shoulders and stood with one foot between the two of his. Not only was Grian penned in, but Scar was looking down at him, and the smirk on his face was one that told Grian he knew exactly what he was doing. Grian felt himself warming up under his gaze and the closeness of their bodies, his cheeks becoming gradually pinker as time ticked away, and Scar shifted just a little.
“You know why I’m here, don’t you?”
Grian shook his head, and he fought against himself to not break out into a grin. He could play along with Scar, he could pretend he was intimidated, but it was difficult for the very corners of his mouth to tweak upward.
“You’re out of gravel, G.” Scar said matter-of-factly. He seemed to be much better at acting than Grian was, or perhaps it was because he was in complete control of the situation. Beside his shoulders Grian felt fingers tapping, and his heart seemed to beat in time with them. He looked at Scar, spending several long moments just waiting to see if his expression would break, but it didn’t so much as budge. In fact, Grian wasn’t even certain he’d blinked. He smiled a little wider, barely able to stifle a giggle at the thought.
Fine, he might not be able to pretend he was intimidated, but he could still play this game.
“Oh, well I was going to get some work done on my Mansion today.” He explained. “I can restock once that’s done.”
“No, no no no.” Scar started, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “No Grian, I’m sorry, but that won’t do.” He said. “A restock means that other Hermits could buy the gravel before I have time to get there, and I am in urgent need of gravel.”
“Urgent need?” Grian asked, raising an eyebrow, and Scar nodded solemnly.
“Absolutely, it’s time critical, and I’d be willing to pay extra for a special delivery.”
His tone and face were still completely serious but Grian still found himself camouflaging with his jumper. He’d have to try this one day, see if he could keep a straight face if he came up on Scar unexpectedly, but for now he needed to focus on the moment at hand.
“Pay extra?” Grian asked. “Are you embezzling diamonds from the town hall again?”
“I am not-- What do you mean again?!” Scar questioned, breaking for a moment to laugh at the claim Grian had made. It really was only a moment, though, and he was quick to snap back into his serious self. “No. Not diamonds. I thought I might be able to pay in a different kind of way.”
Grian swallowed, feeling incredibly hot under his collar as he watched Scar’s gaze move to his lips and linger, his tongue poking out and tracing over his own slowly. The laughter and giggling had subsided, replaced now with a tension that could break at any moment.
“How much do you want?” Grian asked, and Scar just shrugged.
“Three shulkers?”
“That’s fine, I can get you three shulkers worth. You can give me the diamonds later, but I’d like that extra payment upfront, if you don’t mind.”
With that, Scar hummed, and the hands pressed either side of his shoulders moved. One moved to his side, finding the slight dip of his waist, and the other moved under his chin. It never failed to amaze Grian in those moments just how much bigger Scar’s hands were, and he couldn’t help but think of it as his head was tipped backward.
“I think that can be arranged.” Scar whispered lowly, and as those words left his lips Grian’s breath hitched in his throat as the taller leaned down. He closed his eyes, he let himself relax, and he felt warm air on his lips. The hand beneath his chin shifted, fingers pressing against his cheeks and brushing over his skin. Grian whined.
He whined.
Scar hadn’t kissed him yet, still hovering just out of reach, and he whined. He refused to open his eyes, refused to see just how pleased with himself Scar was, and refused to think about the fact that he would never be able to live that noise down. But it seemed to get the message across, Scar seemed to realise just how needy he was in that moment, and the hand on his waist tightened its grip. Scar’s fingers pressed against Grian’s jumper - not quite hard enough to leave marks on his skin through the thick fabric - and the minute distance between their lips was destroyed in a moment as Scar finally closed the gap between them.
Every time they kissed it was like lightning filled the skies, and this time was no exception. As their lips moved together, Grian felt himself melt against the wall. His attention was concentrated on where their bodies were joined - heat and pressure focused on his side, his cheek, his lips - and where desire was starting to pool in his stomach. Scar bit down on his bottom lip and Grian let out a gasp, and Scar took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue pushed in with a commanding force that left Grian’s own hands reaching out for Scar’s shoulders to keep him from losing his balance.
Scar was completely in control. He was supporting Grian, he was choreographing the dance their lips engaged in, he was playing Grian’s body as masterfully as he could build.
To hell with three shulkers of gravel, Grian wanted to give him everything.
If Grian let out another whimper as Scar pulled back, then Scar didn’t mention it. Instead, all he did was stroke the flustered man’s cheek with even more care and smile at him with a fondness that only made Grian hunger for him more.
“Is that enough?” Scar asked. “Or do I need to give you more? I can feel the inflation of the economy, and I wouldn’t like to short change you.”
The joke was terrible, and if Grian could have pulled either of his two brain cells away from how close they were and how desperate he was he might have pointed that out. Instead, he shrugged, and came up with an even worse joke in reply.
“You can always tip me.”
“Oh, it would be my pleasure.” Scar teased, but his hands moved away from Grian and his body suddenly felt lost without the contact between them. He opened his mouth to protest, but Scar stepped back and took out a rocket. Grian wanted to say something to stop him, but he had no chance to speak as Scar held up a hand to tell him to be silent.
“Once you’ve got the gravel.”