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They spin in the dark, feet tracing constellations in the dew-laden grass, fingers digging into shoulders and backs, bodies pressed together in the frantic, lovely whirl of the dance.
Trailing his fingers up Grian’s back, Scar thinks there’s nowhere he’d rather be.
Dawn.
Boatem is quiet, tense with the knowledge that the world is ending. Scar’s rocket hangs in empty space, stocked and primed for launch.
Its owner wakes to quiet sobbing, his partner turned away from him.
“Grian?” Scar sits up, blinking sticky sleep away from his eyes. The sobs pause for a moment.
“Scar? Why are you… awake?” Grian’s voice is wobbly, thick with tears, and Scar is wide awake in a second.
“What’s wrong, love?” He scoots closer, extending a cautious hand. He won’t touch his partner without permission, especially like this, but he knows from experience that it’s better to have the offer of comfort.
And he’s right. Grian turns towards him and buries his head in Scar’s chest. His back shakes with sobs, and Scar wraps his arms around him, murmuring soft endearments.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He rubs small circles on his partner’s back with one hand, tangling his fingers in Grian’s hair with the other.
Grian sniffles and raises his head slightly, eyes glistening in the moonlight.
“I- I don’t want to go.”
Their breath puffs out in clouds, and cold breezes whistle around the two of them. The only warmth is Grian, who spins away from him for a moment, laughing a wild laugh that is no less joyful for its breathless terror.
Scar laughs himself, pulling Grian back in. He’s stuck in orbit, basking in the sun-kissed warmth of his partner, in the way his hair still gleams golden despite the silver and black of everything else, the way his wings curl around Scar, as if to shield them both from the world around them-
“Go where?” Scar asks gently.
“I don’t want to… to leave Boatem.” Grian curls back into his chest, shaking, as if he expects shame or anger.
Oh, darling…” Scar breathes, but before he can continue, Grian bursts out in another sob.
“I’m sorry I’m sorry I just- I can’t- I’m sorry-!” he gasps, struggling for breath.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, it’ll be okay, I love you, I love you so much…” Fingers curl into his back almost painfully, and his shirt is wet with tears, but Scar doesn’t care. He holds his partner even tighter, whispering reassurance into his hair.
When Grian’s sobs begin to subside, Scar gently lifts his face, cupping it in both his hands.
“You know I love you so much, right? I’ll never be mad at you for saying what you feel.”
Grian’s eyes, red-rimmed and tired, search his.
“I just- I don’t want to be alone.”
“I promise you, you’ll never be alone.”
-and the way Grian looks at him, as if he’s the only thing that matters in the world. Sometimes Scar wonders what he did to deserve this love from such a beautiful, wonderful person.
Grian clasps his hands, and they swing around and around, their laughter the only sound pealing out into the night. It’s almost defiance, them daring to be happy in the face of the end.
But they have each other, so what does it matter?
It’s a heavy promise. Scar knows what Grian’s asking of him. To not be alone, in his final moments. To hold his hand tight as the moon crashes into the earth. To savor that final moment before it all fades to black.
And, well, Scar would rather die on his own terms, with the man he loves, than to leave him behind as he escapes on a rocket into the unknown.
So he presses a kiss to his partner’s head, and in the heavy silence Scar hopes he understands.
He’ll stay. He’ll always stay.
Grian pulls him in suddenly, the dance coming to a halt. He stares up into Scar’s eyes, hands moving to brush his face.
Scar stares back, into the eyes of the man he’s seen and loved for so long it might as well be forever.
Grian laughing in the sunlight, eyes crinkled and wings fluffed with amusement. He’s poking fun at Scar’s hat, and he pretends to be annoyed. In reality, he’s enamored, eyes lingering on his lips and cheeks flushed with something other than embarrassment. When Grian asks teasingly what’s got him so red, he waves him off, smiling hopelessly to himself.
Grian’s eyes search Scar’s just as they had that morning, hands drifting over his cheeks and brow furrowed.
He’s wondering if he regrets it, Scar realizes.
The first time he tells Grian he loves him, it’s an accident. It’s a bit of a disaster, and Scar can’t remember exactly what happens, but it ends with Grian’s arms around his waist and his head on Scar’s shoulder, so it can’t have gone that badly.
He doesn’t. He doesn’t regret a single thing that led him here.
Their first kiss, Grian on his tiptoes to reach Scar, the sun warm on their faces, the clumsy press of lips on lips. Their laughter afterwards, flushed and giddy with love and joy.
“I love you.” Grian breathes, as if it’s a secret.
Counting the stars, naming every constellation, stealing kisses wherever they can.
He cups Scar’s face and leans in.
“May I have this dance?”
Scar closes his eyes and revels in this final moment of being, of loving and feeling and the way Grian tilts his head to deepen this final, drawn-out kiss.
The first moment Scar ever sees him, he knows he’d do anything for him.
He hopes it doesn’t hurt.