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“For all you’ve done for me,” Scar sinks to his knees, shallow, red-tinged water lapping at him, “you may slay me, and take the enchanter.” Grian’s eyes are beautiful in the sunlight, red and deadly and suddenly brimming with tears.
“No, I can’t. I-I can’t.” His sword dangles from his hand, fingers loose. Absently, Scar thinks of how easy it would be, to snatch it and use it, press the blade to a throat and watch the blood well up.
Why not? he wants to ask. He knows that Grian feels the red coursing through his veins as surely as it flowed through Scar’s. It would be so easy to satiate that desire. And then what?
The trails of blood in the water are like tears. Or petals.
“I can’t.” Grian breathes again.
Scar has never been the strong one. I love you, he wants to say, I love you, and I don’t want to die. Not here. Not like this. Please take my hand. Take my hand, and let’s go home.
There is no home left for them, nothing left but the desert and the red on the sand, and Scar has to be the strong one.
“The ghosts demand a fight.” he chokes out. “Let’s give them one.” Grian’s eyes are wide and dark, but he nods.
His friendpartnerenemylove- his Grian stretches out a hand that is bloody and calloused, and Scar takes it.
One last time.
Scar stumbles forwards as Grian yanks on his arm with a viciousness that is only half disguised until they are face to face and Scar can count the flecks of green and yellow in his eyes.
“Please.” Grian whispers, his eyes soft and vicious and wanting.
When it’s you? Always.
“Yes,” he says instead, knowing it will mean enough, and Grian’s hand curls around his neck, tangling into his hair, and they meet in a kiss that tears the breath out of Scar. Grian’s lips are soft, and Scar can taste blood that only makes him cling tighter. He wants so badly it makes his head dizzy. Grian’s nails bite into his scalp, not quite drawing blood, and the edges of Scar’s vision are tinged with red.
When they separate, it is with a shaky breath and Grian releasing him. Scar can do nothing but breathe for a moment, staring at the reddened crescent moons pressed into his forearm.
Grian smiles at him with sharp, hungry teeth, and Scar has a dizzying, irrational thought that everything is going to be okay, because I love him.
(It isn’t, of course, and by the end of the day there is only more red to paint the sand.)
—
Midnight Alley is quiet this late at night, with the moon looming overhead like a watchful eye. Despite the brightness, Scar trips over a shulker box with a hiss. He navigates more carefully after that.
He can’t help but admire the alley, now that it’s done. It really is unique, and it’s obvious how much thought Grian’s put into it. It’s so obviously him.
Speak of the devil. As Scar’s eyes rove over the scene, he catches a glimpse of washed-out red. He pauses, eyes locked on the shadowy corner. The man pressed up against the wall shakes his head frantically at Scar, pressing a finger to his lips, curved in a grin. He raises an eyebrow.
“Scar!” The shout breaks the silence, and Mumbo swoops down in front of him, disheveled.
“Goodness!” Scar stumbles back in shock, blinking quickly.
“Scar. Scar. Have you seen Grian.” Mambo’s gaze is wild, and he fidgets nervously.
“Um.” Scar’s eyes flick back to the shadowed corner, where Grian is making increasingly frantic pantomimes telling him to be quiet, shut up.
“No? No. What do you need?” Scar asks, hoping he sounds convincing. Apparently it’s good enough, as Mumbo’s eyes wander away and he mumbles something about the moon.
“Great talking to you, have to go… find him.” Mumbo shoots back into the air with a flare of too-bright rockets, causing Scar to shield his eyes. When his vision clears, the other man is gone, and Grian is doubled over, shaking with silent laughter.
“You,” Scar sighs, “are a troublemaker.” He strolls over, pushing his hat farther up his head.
“Shhh! He’ll hear you.” Grian whispers.
Scar obligingly lowers his voice. “That poor man. What did he even want anyways?”
“Something to do with the moon, I’m not sure.” Grian loops his arms around Scar’s neck.
“You’re beautiful.” Scar grins down at the other. It’s true. Grian’s eyes are silver in the moonlight, and sparkle with a mischievous light. Even his hair is silver, granting him a near-ethereal look.
Grian scoffs. “You be quiet,” he orders, but Scar can see the dark flush on his cheeks even in monochrome.
“Of course,” he smiles, leaning down to capture Grian’s lips. The other man hums delightedly, pressing closer.
“Grian!” The two spring apart, and Scar looks around wildly, but there is no Mumbo swooping down from the heavens. Grian shakes silently with held-back laughter, and his head drops onto Scar’s shoulder.
“You should go,” Grian murmurs, “before he finds out.” Scar takes the chance to lift Grian’s chin and steal one last sweet, short kiss before he does just that.
As he emerges into the full moon-glare, it occurs to him he didn’t even get what he came for, which was… hm. He supposes it doesn’t matter.
After all, I got something much better.
—
“Want to try out the new life-giving system?” Scar raises his eyebrows skeptically, giving Grian what he hopes is a look.
“The reason being?” Grian smiles innocently up at him, eyes sunflower-yellow. If he’s the sunflower, am I the sun? Scar wonders for a moment, before shaking the– far too sappy– thought off.
“Oh, you know.” He sidles closer, wings fluffing. “Just for fun. I’d give it back!”
Somehow I doubt that, Scar doesn’t say. It’s not like it really matters, after all. Grian is yellow and Scar is green, and it wouldn’t be a loss for either of them.
Besides, he wants to test out the life system himself.
He beckons Grian a bit closer, leaning down until they’re face to face, Grian’s breath ghosting over his lips. Scar hovers teasingly close, a mischievous smile breaking out.
Grian groans frustratedly and pushes himself up to meet Scar halfway. Their noses bump for a moment before Grian tilts his head. Scar closes his eyes, hands settling on Grian’s hips.
The passing of a life is less electrifying than he would’ve thought, just a tingle seeping outwards from his chest. It’s over in a few seconds and Scar pulls back.
When he looks up, Grian’s eyes are the color of grass and it makes him feel that much safer, though Scar will admit he preferred the yellow. A smile rises slowly to Grian’s face.
“I’m not giving this back.” he declares, breaking free of Scar’s hold and darting away almost too quickly for Scar to follow.
He sighs, making no attempt to follow. He’s got my heart already. He’ll keep this life safe too.
—
“You,” Scar chides quietly, “are a menace.” Grian squirms under his steady hands, feathers bristling for a moment.
“It’s not exactly my fault I got killed,” he protests, though his words are slurred together from anesthetic. Scar pauses, hands hovering over the largest gash in Grian’s back– not bleeding anymore, but still open and an infection danger.
“I know,” he sighs, I just worry left unspoken.
See, Scar knows that Grian can take care of himself, knows that in all likelihood Grian is the most powerful person on this server. He’s seen what Grian is, what he really is, eyes and wings and all. Grian can protect himself.
It feels like all Scar can do is worry.
Grian turns awkwardly to look at him, careful of upsetting Scar’s precise bandages. He cups Scar’s face in one hand.
“Hey. I love you.” His eyes are violet and worried.
“I love you too.” Scar raises a hand to his face, placing it gently over Grian’s. “And I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault. It just– it just…” He trails off, eyes dropping from Grian’s.
“You don’t have to be sorry for being worried,” Grian murmurs, turning his hand so that it meshes with Scar’s own. “I worry about you too, you know?”
“At least I haven’t gone and gotten myself killed yet,” Scar jokes weakly. He sighs and leans forwards, placing a gentle kiss on Grian’s forehead.
If they sat there for a while, hand in hand, eyes closed, then it was no one’s business but their own.
—
“Oh– oh my void–” Scar’s laughter makes his flight dip and wobble. Beside him, Grian cackles, swerving to keep level with him.
“Her face!” he cries, waving his hands as if to convey the terror on Cleo’s face when she had seen them.
“That–” Scar gasps, trying to hold in more laughter, “was the best prank I have ever done on this server.”
They fly for a moment in relative silence before bursting out in giggles again. Scar bobs and weaves in the air, trying to stay level.
Before he can even notice the loosening straps tying his elytra to his back, there is a snap, and Scar is suddenly falling, tumbling through the air in freefall.
He’s too shocked to even make a sound, wind whistling through his ears and making his eyes water as the trees grow steadily closer. Distantly, he hears a shriek, and sees a flash of black in the corner of his eye.
And just as quickly as he had fallen, he was swept up into clutching arms, vision now filled with beating, dizzying wings and black eyes stretched wide with fright.
“Scar! Ohmygoodness– are you okay?” Scar is too busy catching his breath to choke out an answer, so he just nods frantically and hopes his partner understands. As his vision refocuses to Grian’s face, still scared, he wraps his hands around his waist and hangs on for dear life.
Something about the near-death experience is so exhilarating, and before Scar can think twice, he kisses Grian. He tastes like wind and sunlight and strawberries, and Scar’s blood is humming through his veins, and it is, in his humble opinion, the best kiss he’s ever had.
As they pull apart, Grian laughs half-hysterically. “I really thought you were going to die there.”
“Aw, I know you wouldn’t have let me.”
At that, Grian drops him, and Scar yelps in panic.
He lands on his back on soft, green grass, staring up at Grian, who looks back down with a wicked grin, wings beating in short, vicious strokes to keep him hovering.
“You… are awful.” Scar gasps out, placing a hand on his chest.
“You love me anyways.”
“Yeah. I do.”
—
The new world around him hums life life life, twining through the code and through the players all around Grian. His players, here, code linked to his like puppets on threads. He looks around at the green world, the green players, and can’t help but smile.
He wonders how long it will take to be red, red, red.