Work Text:
Grian let out a satisfied sigh, his hands coming together once, twice, and thrice until the dust and dirt that had accumulated during the building process was carried away by the breeze. It was a job well done, even if he said so himself, and had provided an excellent distraction from the item at the top of his to-do list (‘the back of the base’, written, written over, circled, highlighted, underlined, and written again).
The Hermits were just beginning to get ready for the holiday season, and after Pearl’s incredible effort at Halloween, Grian couldn’t be outdone. He’d constructed an advent calendar for the server - putting aside all their differences and squabbles for the festive spirit - and now he couldn’t wait for the Hermits to descend. He wasn’t the best at redstone, but he’d tried his best to make the thing more fun than just pushing a button once a day, and he hoped it would pay off.
Bdubs, ever the early riser, was there at the crack of dawn the following morning. Grian had barely gotten himself out of bed and filled his flask with tea before he heard the happy shouts of a satisfied customer, and the explosion of a single firework rocket that he hoped the people of Boatem would forgive him for. Throughout the morning, more and more Hermits stopped by to collect their first gift. Cleo and Joe came together, as did Etho and Iskall, and Xisuma even managed to convince Evil Xisuma to tag along (who seemed surprisingly content with his stack of cookies). Pearl, Impulse and Mumbo had collected theirs on a break from working on their builds, and as they day wore on less and less Hermits were still on the list to collect so they didn’t miss out.
The only person that Grian hadn’t seen by the time evening had rolled around was Scar, and Scar was the one he’d wanted to see most of all.
Sure, having Mumbo compliment his simple redstone circuit was nice, but he’d put extra effort into each of Scar’s gifts. Today’s was a homemade stocking to be hung upon his fireplace, a little decoration to make his home seem even more festive, and Grian would never admit to how long it had taken him to knit. Or the fact that he had learned how to knit specifically for it. He’d been darning his jumper for years, but this had been a whole other kettle of fish.
So Scar not showing up to collect his first advent treat simply wasn’t an option. If it took marching to the Swaggon himself and pulling Scar out - or hiking half way up the mountain range that towered above his home - so be it. Hoping that the latter was wrong - and that Scar wasn’t up his mountain - Grian set off for the terraformer’s starter base. Even now, months after they’d all settled down, Grian couldn’t believe that this was a starter base, by any definition of the word. Yes, it had been built during the first few days of the server, but he’d worked on it consistently since then and it had transformed from a starter base to a village.
No, ‘village’ was underselling quite how ginormous of an effort it was. It was a small town, with dozens of villagers inhabiting it, and more story and intricacy to each build than Grian could come up with in a season. He’d never cease to be impressed with such a thing, but then Scar always impressed Grian. It was one of his many wonderful qualities.
Grian felt his cheeks warming up, turning a shade of pink as he thought about some of Scar’s other wonderful qualities, and he shook his head as if to rid his mind of the thoughts. They were best friends, that was it, and the last thing Grian would ever want to do was ruin that because of a silly little crush. Maybe he’d worked a little harder on Scar’s gifts for it, but the man would be unlikely to notice. Someone like Mumbo, though, he’d certainly spot it. And he’d never let Grian live it down.
It was probably for the best that no one else in Boatem spotted him as he knocked on Scar’s door and let himself in, eyes scanning each floor to find the man in question.
“Scar?” He called, legs quivering more and more with every shout that went unanswered. If Scar wasn’t here, he’d need to climb the mountain. Sure, he could fly, but flying would leave the nooks and crannies that Scar often paid attention to unseen. Climbing would be the only option.
When he reached the next floor, Grian clambered off the ladder, and he started to look between chests until he heard a familiar voice coming from above.
“Jellie, Jellie no!” A gasp, and then a crash, and then a sigh. “Jellie! Did you know how hard I worked on that for Grian? I’m not going to have time to make another one…”
Grian’s brows furrowed. Scar was making him something? Something that Jellie, apparently, had ruined. He wasn’t expecting any kind of gift from the man - even with Christmas fast approaching - and he certainly wouldn’t mind if Jellie had wanted to… Contribute in her own special way.
Deciding that it was his best chance to grab Scar - and that he probably shouldn’t be wandering around his friend’s home unnoticed - Grian called out to announce his presence.
“Scar!” He said cheerfully, returning to the ladder and reaching out for the rungs before starting to ascend once more. “I haven’t seen you all day! You need to come get your gift from the advent calendar. Come on!”
“Grian! Oh my goodness! Where on earth did you come from?!” He heard exclaimed from above, chuckling to himself that Scar hadn’t heard him before. “Don’t come up here, I’ll be right down! Jellie, go on, go play girl, that’s it.”
Now Grian wasn’t one to truly break a boundary set by a friend, but he was mischievous enough to see if what Scar was asking him was a genuine request or something he wouldn’t mind being ignored. When he got to the top of the ladder he poked his head above the floor: not quite enough to see what Scar seemed to be trying to cover up, but enough for the older man to notice him.
“No, shoo, you can’t see this.”
“See what?” Grian asked, his cheeky grin evident in his tone even if Scar couldn’t see it. For a moment, he thought he was going to be scolded and sent away, but then he watched a crestfallen expression fill Scar’s face and his shoulders sagged as he sighed.
“Oh, you might as well, it’s ruined anyway.” He grumbled, stepping aside to reveal a canvas.
Not just any sort of canvas, though. It was covered in intricate oil paints that looked like they must have taken weeks to layer, the brushstrokes completely invisible from the distance that Grian was standing at. It was a beautiful painting of the two of them, standing outside their jungle starter homes from the previous season. It was completely perfect.
Except for the pawprints that now covered the canvas, an almost neon yellow that didn’t fit with the luscious green at all. He could see exactly what Scar meant when he’d said he didn’t have time to make another, and he saw exactly why the man was so upset about it. To Grian, though, the thought that he could be disappointed about such a masterpiece…
“Scar, it’s beautiful.” Grian said, pulling himself from the ladder completely to allow himself to walk closer and look at the painting more closely. “And I mean that sincerely, I’m not just saying it. It’s perfect.”
“It’s covered in yellow paw prints.” Scar said quietly. “And even before then, it wasn’t perfect.”
“Scar, I mean it, it’s flawless. Jellie’s paw prints add an extra dimension to it, but what you’ve done here… It’s incredible! I don’t know what to say! And you were making this for me?”
Scar nodded, a little less hesitant. “For Christmas. I don’t know what I’ll do for you now.”
“Well, can I still have this?” Grian asked him. “I know you think it’s less than perfect, but I’d love to have it in my alleyway. Maybe it could hang in the bank - front and centre! It would be a brilliant fit! Please Scar? You don’t have to say yes, but…” He trailed off, hoping it would be enough. And, by some miracle, it seemed like it had worked.
“Alright.” Scar said. “Can I still do a few more touch ups? If you like the Jellie paw prints, I can leave them, but there’s still a few other bits I wasn’t finished with.”
Grian nodded quickly, and just like that his entire reasoning for coming to find Scar had completely left his mind. It took him nearly a minute of entranced staring at the painting for him to remember that he’d actually had a purpose to his being here.
“Oh! Your advent calendar treat! God, it’s going to look like nothing compared to this!” He laughed, and Scar shook his head as he laughed too.
“Nonsense! Whatever you’ve come up with, it’ll be amazing.” Scar said, purposefully lengthening the syllables of the last word.
The pair headed out together, the dark of night starting to creep in making it feel an awful lot later than it was. As they approached the advent calendar Grian had built he heard Scar sighing contentedly, wiping paint covered hands on his jacket.
“Y’know Grian, this really is the most wonderful time of year.” He said happily. “The decorations, the gift giving, and if Gem’s halloween cookies were anything to go by I cannot wait to taste what she makes for Christmas. And isn’t Xisuma inviting everyone for Christmas dinner?”
“Of course, the British version.” Grian teased. “Christmas crackers galore, and if you so much as think about not wearing the paper hat.”
“I know, I know!” Scar’s hands were raised in mock surrender. “I’ve been at the receiving end of a terrible cracker joke before, I wear the hat and I’m immune.” He chuckled. “Now, let’s have a look at what you’ve got here. I get something everyday?” Scar asked, and Grian nodded, pointing him toward a button with his name written above it.
“Just there. You can keep the shulker that comes out at the end of it, but you’ve got to leave it here until then so I have somewhere to put your gift.”
Scar nodded understandingly and waited another moment as if expecting to be told when to go. Grian just waved a hand, gesturing for him to open it when he was ready, and he took a step back to watch the fireworks exploding above when the box was opened.
“Oh! Oh my gosh, I was not expecting that!”
“Have you not heard them going off all day?!” Grian laughed. “I thought if nothing else, they’d get your attention.”
“You know what I’m like, G. Now, what have we here?” Scar asked aloud, mulling over the knitted gift he’d been given, before humming in confusion. “Grian… Why have you given me one sock? Do I look like Dobby to you?”
That statement had been so utterly unexpected that Grian couldn’t help but double over and let out a breath of air. He wanted to laugh but he couldn’t, trying too hard to breathe, and he brought a hand to his face to wipe away a tear before it had the chance to fall.
“Scar! It’s not a sock, it’s a stocking! You hang it by your bed, or by the fireplace, and when Father Christmas leaves gifts he fills it up with little things. A satsuma, some chocolate, maybe a little game. You’re not meant to wear it!”
“I was going to say, I think it’d fit my head better than my feet, and I’m the hat man around here.”
Grian snorted, throwing his head back, and Scar grinned.
“So do I get another twenty three of these?”
“Scar!”