Chapter Text
Grian never took his cloak off where others could see. No matter the heat of the desert or the putrid smell of blood that would soak into the thin fabric, following them home and making them both nauseous. Despite this, Scar has never once seen Grian without his cloak on.
This had never been an issue worth noting. Just another aspect to add to Scar's ever-increasing list of 'Grian's Weird Personality Traits'. Not that he was keeping track.
Scar couldn't understand why Grian chose to stay wrapped up in the mess of red cloth, especially with the scorching heat of their desert. When he had taken it upon himself to ask, both of them had traveled outside of the desert borders to the river within the oak forest, deciding to spend some time fishing to stock their iced storage unit to last a few weeks.
The sky was clear of any clouds, the sun ruthless on the back of Scar's shoulders. Yet it was cooler than they were used to while on this side of the land. Especially when Scar could sink into the river depths, soothing his burnt skin. Grian would yell at him for scaring the fish away but it was a small price to pay when chilled water was so rare for them.
Once the day had started to wind down into the evening, Scar had swam back up for air, lungs burning from staying submerged while attempting to catch fish with his bare hands to no avail. Once he breached the surface and spotted Grian crouching along the shoreline, who was watching Scar with his head cocked to one side, he'd offered no warning but a grin before throwing a splash of water at him.
Grian had yelped, blocking the spray with his hands while scrambling back closer to the safety of the mainland. "Scar, what on earth!" Scar laughed as his companion groaned, attempting to wipe the water off of himself.
"Come on," Scar whined, drawing out the syllables. "You should get in, the water is so nice and cool in here! Fresh water, exercise, and a bath all in one."
Grian had sent him the stink eye and turned his nose up, "No wonder you always smell if you think that constitutes a bath." Scar had slapped a hand over his heart and fallen backwards dramatically with a cry.
Scar had let himself float in the water, enjoying the muted sounds of the world while it covered his ears but allowed him to breathe. "I can't believe you'd hurt me like this, Grian. And to think we were friends." His own voice had sounded odd through the water, but there was little that could stop his dramatics.
Grian's response was muffled, akin to the groan of metal gears in Grian's contraptions. Scar had groaned dramatically before rising back out of the water, using a hand to brush the water from his face and hair while his ears drained. "Sorry, couldn't hear you when I was surrounded by all of this quite lovely water. What did you say?" Grian hated having to repeat himself.
Grian had crossed his arms, one foot tapping dramatically, "I'd said that one, you're dramatic. Two, we need to start heading back soon. I'm sweltering over here while you're having a blast in the water! Besides, it'll be dark in a few hours and we still haven't had supper." Grian listed his reasoning on each finger, always using his hands as he lectured Scar, who simply watched and continued to lazily float within the river.
"Well, that's great and all, Grian. But… You could just get in with me. Then you wouldn't be so hot!" An easy solution in Scar's mind, who presented this with the enthusiasm of an oblivious fool.
Grian groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. He'd started to get a headache from the heat, wanting nothing more than to be back at their base. "I'm not taking my clothes off and that still doesn't solve the issue that it takes us two hours to get back to the fort, and the sun goes down in three." He had attempted to stay calm during his very reasonable explanation, but his voice was riddled with irritation.
They hadn't been together for long at this point, maybe a few weeks or a month. Yet, Scar was already well-versed in how far he could push Grian before it ended in a fight. Usually these fights resulted in Grian ignoring Scar for days to throw himself into work; whether it was hours in the farm or a full day of building their base without a single break. Scar is anything but fond of these fights, so he learned quickly to step back from the line rather than cross it when it came to Grian's frustrations.
So he'd heaved a deep sigh and began wading over to Grian, who let out his own breath of respite. While Scar hadn’t wanted to leave so early, there was still a twinge of satisfaction to see Grian so relieved. "Alright, alright. You win, just let me dry off first."
They'd packed up rather quickly, Grian sniping at Scar to put his shirt back on when he began the trek home shirtless. He'd laughed, having only left it off for the reaction it would garner from Grian. It was like clockwork at this point, though he didn't understand what the issue with being shirtless was. Maybe it was jealousy since Grian refused to take his own off.
The train of thought had prompted Scar to speak up despite the comfortable silence they'd settled into during their walk. "So, why don't you ever take that cloak off? I know you wear a shirt under it, so it's not like you'd even be all bare-chested and whatnot." He'd subtly glanced over to Grian to observe his reaction, ever curious about the man who dedicated his first life to him.
Grian had shifted the basket he was carrying in his arms, continuing to stare straight ahead with no outward emotion. He'd begun to use his blunt nails to tap against the basket in a non-sysnical rhythm. Scar almost wanted to hum along to it.
"Haven't we discussed this already?"
"Nope." Scar replied, popping the p.
Grian's mouth had twisted, an imperceptible huff escaping his lips. "Well, it's not any of your business really." He'd paused briefly, as if in consideration. "But if you must know, I'm quite sensitive to the sun. I'd rather not get blisters from being outside for more than ten minutes." He had answered simply, shrugging as if the subject was null.
Scar didn't quite believe him, but didn't have any reasoning to call him out on it either. He supposed if Grian wanted to tell him he would, so there was no reason to pry further. "Makes sense I guess."
They had fallen back into a comfortable silence the rest of the way home, admiring the setting sun and wildlife of the forest.
Now, they've been living together for something nearing two or three months. Time was difficult to keep track of, especially when everyone on the server experienced nothing but a headache when they attempted to remember where they had all been before suddenly arriving on the fields of this land. The 'before' was a touchy discussion, so most of them politely ignored it, only divulging in the topic when secrets were passed in inebriation or the dark of night.
Despite their time together strengthening their bond, Grian still avoids the topic of his cowl like the plague. He's slowly allowed himself to relax, when it's just them in their base during quiet evenings. Whereas he usually keeps it up around his mouth or worn as a hood, he'll let it fall across his shoulders when he's comfortable. To Scar's surprise, the long sleeved shirt he wears underneath seems to have a deep cut because he can catch glimpses of sharp collar bones when the fabric of his cowl pools around his shoulders. He's quick to look away, feeling uncomfortably voyeuristic at the unintentional flash of bare skin.
If Grian had noticed his increasing exposure around Scar, he hadn't mentioned nor changed it. Scar couldn't help but feel warmth pool within his chest, hoping that this was a sign of trust, subconscious or not.
Otherwise, Grian's insistence on keeping his frame covered in his cowl didn't impact much. He still fluttered around their base in the evenings with an astounding amount of energy, only to gripe and moan in the mornings when Scar would force him awake to help him in the garden before it got too hot out. They still did their best to organize and strike out a monopoly on any rare item they could get their hands on, still built traps and false sales pitches to scam their acquaintances, allies, and friends.
They'd become quite inseparable, a perfect duo if you asked Scar. So really, this was just another odd quirk of Grian's to add to the list, then move on about his days without giving it too much thought.
That is, until they'd made the mistake of going on a mining expedition together.
This has originally been brought up by Grian, who had just finished their base a week prior. After griping about their lack of resources for long enough, Scar offered up the intelligent idea of going on a mining trip together. There was safety in numbers, they could bring back double the resources, and it would almost be like an underground camping trip if they stayed for a couple days.
Grian had been hesitant at first, making wild claims of Scar being unable to stay alive and so on. After throwing it back in his face that Grian was the only reason Scar had lost his first life anyways, he agreed to Scar's wishes rather easily.
Their plan had been to go within a few days, that way they could trap the base for protection while they were away and gather enough supplies in the case of an emergency.
They were currently sitting on the floor of their communal room, stitching the tears in their bags and repairing their armor in preparation. Scar is zoned out as Grian goes over their plan yet again, far too meticulous in Scar's opinion. They leave early in the morning with plans to return within three days. Without having to worry about Pizza, who had passed the week prior, they have the freedom to spend a large amount of time away from the base. Although Scar would happily be stuck to the base if it meant he could tend to their beloved llama again.
He's snapped from his reverie quite literally, Grian bending over where Scar is sitting and snapping his fingers in front of his face. Scar blinks, muttering out an intelligent, "Huh?"
Scar looks up at Grian in time to catch the fond smile that flits across his face, yet passes just as quickly. There's a lamp just behind his head, causing his hair to halo around him and darken his face. "You look creepy with the light behind you like that." Scar mutters, blinking up at him.
Grian pauses for a moment, both of them staring for half a second before the comment fully registers. Feigning irritation, Grian lightly snips at him, "Well maybe if you had been paying attention, I wouldn't have had to get up. Did you even hear anything I said?"
Scar rolls his eyes with a large yawn, "Yeah, yeah. I’m never to go more than twenty feet from your side, we leave if we go through half of our food supply, don't pull a 'Scar' and get myself killed… I think that about sums it up." He rests his chin in his hand while grinning lazily up at the blond, moving his free hand as he speaks.
Grian's eyes narrow, displeased with Scar's comeback. "Not really, but I'm too tired to care right now. Have you finished patching your shirt?" Scar glances down at the shirt left forgotten on his lap before looking back up with a sheepish grin.
Despite the heavy sigh, Grian plops down in front of Scar, crossing his legs and snatching the shirt from Scar's lap. As Grian stretches over to his original area of the floor to grab his sewing kit, Scar can't help but notice they're sitting so closely that their knees are touching. He takes a moment to take in the black capri pants that have ridden up Grian’s legs to expose the flexing muscles along his toned calves, leading to thick socks to keep out the sand.
He looks away as Grian pulls himself back over, picking through his supplies and threading brown string through a needle. He manages to weave it through the tiny opening on the first try, the thin string pinched between his fingers with careful precision. Scar watches with wavering attention, pushing yawns away from the back of his throat.
Scar feels slightly restless, not knowing what to do with his hands as he watches Grian work on his shirt. Despite his fidgeting, the atmosphere holds the inherent peace of quiet companionship. The only sound apart from Grian's work is the crackle of coals from their ceiling lamps and the chirped song of the insects outside. They've fortified their land well enough to be secure in the knowledge that they won't hear a mob anywhere near their fort.
There's a dreamlike quality in their current moment, Scar recognizes. He's unaware of the exact time, but it's easily a few hours past midnight. They both desperately need to go to sleep before their expedition tomorrow, and yet.
Grian is still sitting in front of Scar, zeroed in on the small tear in just one of his many work shirts. The cloth is threadbare and rough, it wouldn't be a loss to throw it out at this point. Scar doesn't mention this, despite knowing that Grian is aware of the fact as well. Instead, he shifts his position so he can pull his legs up to rest his arms across his knees, lay his head on top and watch Grian from another perspective.
He looks about the same when Scar is sideways, but he feels a vague sense of loss now that their knees are no longer bumping into each other from each movement. He scoots forward slightly, tucking his socked feet under Grian's crossed legs.
Grian's focus is pulled away by it, if the way he blinks and straightens before briefly glancing down is any indicator. Once he recognizes that it's just Scar that has touched him without his notice, his shoulders relax and he continues his work without a second glance.
Scar feels the same warmth alight in his chest, wondering briefly if the sensation is at all similar to burning alive. He breathes the feeling away, not particularly keen on keeping it around. He allows the deep appreciation to stay curled in his chest, proud of how far they've come in terms of trust. Grian never allowed anyone to touch him, outside of the rare arm thrown over his shoulders in victory, until recently. Only with Scar will he allow brief touches.
A quick pat to Grian's shoulder when he's knelt in the garden for too many hours, pulling him up to go inside and eat. Grabbing his wrist to tug him along whatever ridiculous plan Scar had come up with for the day. Scar bumping his shoulder into Grian's with a laugh when they walk alongside each other and Grian cracks a particularly funny joke. The barest touch to the small of Grian's back to nudge him out of the way in the mornings, when Scar needed to squeeze by in their compact kitchen. Grian almost always jumps from that touch, but never seems to complain aloud.
Scar assumes he doesn't mind since Grian has never been the type to keep his mouth shut when it comes to his own displeasure.
They haven't yet crossed the threshold of touch for affection, or prolonged physical contact. Scar is a tactile guy, always has been, so he often has to catch himself before trying to scoop the smaller man into a victory hug or rest against his side when they've stayed up too late into the night.
This is a nice first step. Sure, it's taken months to get to this step and Scar is not a patient man by nature. But it's different, when it's Grian. They've already saved each other's hides multiple times and taken up for the other even more. Scar knows how to recognize a meaningful friendship when he sees it and he is certainly not going to lose this one due to impatience.
Even if he oftentimes feels as if he's crawling out of his skin with the desperate need to satiate his lack of physical contact. Even if he allows himself to admit he wants that need to be fulfilled with Grian.
There are more important things at hand.
For example, Grian who has finally finished his sewing with a gentle, "Aha!" He seems pleased with himself as he reviews his work, gently tugging the fabric to test the strength of his patchwork. He holds it up to show Scar, starting to ramble about how he stitched it so the thread wouldn't be visible from the outside and other nonsense that Scar tunes out.
Grian is too caught up in his explanation as he continues to inspect the fabric to notice Scar, who watches Grian's movement with open fondness. He offers polite, "Mhm's," where appropriate, but otherwise sits silently until Grian has finished.
Once Grian glances up, their eyes meet briefly before Scar looks away, deftly pretending he wasn't staring. They're quiet for a moment, settling within the noise of the night.
Grian clears his throat before offering Scar his shirt back with a soft-spoken, "Anyways, uh, here you go." Scar accepts it, disappointed that their fingers don't brush together during the trade.
"Thanks buddy." Scar murmurs, offering an appreciative smile. Grian ducks his head with a quick nod, but Scar can see the gentle smile that plays out. His chest is still warm.
Grian scratches his arm once before nodding again and standing up, stretching his arms over his head with a loud yawn. Scar stretches out on the ground, twisting his back out and wincing at the stiffness that had built up during their repair session. He looks up to Grian, who is yet again haloed by a now darker orange light from coal that's almost burnt out.
He swallows once.
"Alright, we have got to get to bed. We can just leave the kits out for now, we'll take care of them in the morning I suppose." Grian muses for a moment, obviously dreading the thought of cleaning up under the weight of his exhaustion. "Maybe we could also push our plans back a bit and leave in the early afternoon rather than the morning?" He ends the question in a hopeful tone. As if Scar would ever say no to him.
He finds it amusing how Grian will still ask him for his acceptance on certain things, yet boss Scar around without a care at other times. He hasn't parsed what causes this difference in Grian's attitude yet, but he's sure he'll figure it out eventually. He's got time to learn.
Scar nods slowly, fighting back another yawn, "Yeah, sounds good to me G. I don't think I mind sleeping in." His grin is small but genuine, hoping the joke reassures Grian that he couldn't care less.
It seems to do the trick, as Grian grins back and bends down to offer a hand. Scar takes it gratefully, gripping his palm and stumbling in surprise when Grian lifts him with far more strength than Scar had expected. Grian continues his hold until Scar steadies himself, chuckling under his breath before letting go of his hand.
"Whoo! Thanks G, I didn't expect that."
Grian crosses his arms over his chest, "Are you saying I'm weak?"
Scar throws his hands up in a placating gesture, eyes wide, "No, no! Not at all, not at all. I mean, if we're being technical here, I've never seen any muscles but-" He draws out the 'but' for far longer than necessary, a teasing grin playing out as Grian continues to stare at him with one eyebrow raised in question. "I've seen you move some heavy chests, I’ll admit! I'm just saying, it's not true until there's visual proof."
"I'm not taking my shirt off."
Scar pouts a bit, "C'mon, we could be the shirtless duo! Flex our collective muscles and win over the server!"
"Absolutely not. I actually have some modesty, unlike you!" Grian often argues with a grin, Scar's noticed.
"Fine, fine. I'm still not saying you've got any sorta muscle under there until we have some physical evidence for the court." Scar waves the subject off with a hand, starting to walk towards the staircase to their rooms.
Grian follows closely behind, throwing his hands around for emphasis, "You just admitted that I've carried chests that even you couldn't!"
Scar throws a warning glare over his shoulder, "Now I never said that I couldn't move them, just that you did."
"You didn't have to. I still remember you giving up on trying to move them clear as day." Grian says with a smug grin, resolute in the knowledge that he's won the argument. Per usual.
He pauses before whining out a quiet defense, "Well I just don't think that's fair, Grian."
"Scar, you don't think anything is fair unless it benefits you. You're the sleaziest salesman I know."
Scar gasps in mock awe, hand over his heart, "Aw shucks, you really mean that?" Grian groans in response, shoving around him on their narrow staircase to escape to his room quicker.
By the time Scar reaches his floor, Grian is nowhere to be seen. Assuming he's run off to his own room, he calls out, "Well goodnight then!"
He hears a quick, "Night!" Before the door upstairs clicks shut. Scar smiles to himself, hoping the light feeling curled in his chest doesn't fade out anytime soon. He enjoys spending time with Grian, despite the trouble that always seemed to follow him. Scar’s not exactly a good luck charm himself, so he supposes they fit together like two eggs in a basket.
Entering his room, he can’t help but notice the air seems a bit emptier without his friend to fill the quiet spots. Ignoring the notable silence, he shuffles around the room as he quickly gets ready for bed, yawning through the motions. Once he’s tucked himself into bed, a small smile curls at the sound of creaking floorboards above him as Grian continues to flutter around for the night.
He drifts off to the sound of footsteps, tension bleeding from his shoulders quicker than blood that spills from wounds.