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Mumbo sat at the edge of the party, idly sipping his water and watching as the Hermits and Empire members partied. Grian had insisted he attend to celebrate them returning to Hermitcraft, and distract the Emperors from their world being purged. Mumbo had only agreed when Grian pulled out the puppy eyes, knowing he couldn’t resist them. Now he sat in the shadowed corner, watching Grian enjoying himself.
“Mumbo!” Scar slotted into the chair beside him. “Why’re you hiding over here?”
“Parties aren’t really my thing,” Mumbo shrugged. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself though, why’ve you stopped?”
“Yeah, my legs just started playing up, so I’m going to sit for a bit,” Scar smiled. “Who forced you to come? You clearly want to leave.”
Mumbo chuckled. “Grian pulled out the puppy dog eyes, and I said I’d stay to the end.” He yawned, checking his watch. “If this ever does end.”
“What time is it?” Scar asked.
Mumbo checked his watch again, having forgotten to look at it the first time. “Quarter past one,” he answered. “They’re still happy though.”
“Been admiring G-man?” Scar asked with a laugh, following his gaze.
Mumbo flushed. “No! I just like seeing him happy, that’s all.”
“And also maybe the dress?” Scar prodded.
Mumbo swallowed, looking back at Grian, who was in a ruby, knee-length dress that Mumbo found absolutely stunning. “No,” he squeaked.
Scar burst out laughing. “I’m sure, I’m sure. Have you drunk anything?”
“No, I’d like to be able to fly back with no more than the usual crash landings,” Mumbo said. “And I expect I may be helping several others who maybe had a few pints too many.”
“Xisuma said the same thing,” Scar remarked, glancing across to where Xisuma had fallen asleep in his chair, helmet on his lap. He had been given a moustache and several tattoos in sharpie.
“Poor man,” Mumbo sighed. “We must be worse than babysitting toddlers.”
“No one in their right mind would sign up to babysitting more than twenty toddlers,” Scar stated.
“He loves us too much for his own well-being,” Mumbo chuckled.
Scar laughed slightly. “I won’t remember this in the morning, so make sure you treat him to something.”
“I will,” Mumbo nodded. “How much have you had to drink?”
“A few glasses, enough to get mildly hungover,” Scar shrugged. “If you want to confess something, now’s the time.”
Mumbo hesitated. “Sure, why not. You sure you won’t remember?”
“Probably. I didn’t last time I got drunk,” Scar laughed. “Spill your secrets, moustached man.”
“I’m polyamorous, and I have two crushes.”
“Ooh! Wait, don’t tell me who. One is obviously Grian, but the other one’s more difficult… would I know them?”
“Yes. Better than anyone, in fact.”
Scar blinked. “Really? So who…” Mumbo could pinpoint the exact moment he realised. Scar’s mouth dropped open, and he pointed to himself, shooting
a questioning look to Mumbo.
“Yup,” Mumbo replied. “That’s why I’m really hoping you don’t remember this.”
“Wait, so you want to be in a poly relationship with Grian and me?”
“Ideally,” Mumbo shrugged. “But I’ve accepted that it’s very unlikely. I don’t even know your sexualities-”
“If you thought I was straight, we’re gonna have problems,” Scar said seriously.
Mumbo snorted. “Well that solves one of them.”
“And also, ahem? Have you seen Grian? What about him doesn’t scream gay?” Scar asked, gesturing to Grian, who was- watching… them…
Scar grinned, beckoning him over.
“Wait, Scar, no-” Mumbo said. “What if he remembers? You can’t tell him.”
“You most certainly can tell me,” Grian declared, almost missing the chair he was aiming for between them.
“Are you gonna remember this in the morning?” Mumbo asked, guiding him to the seat.
“I don’t know,” Grian hiccuped. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“Are you gay?” Scar asked.
“Obviously,” Grian replied. “Why? Is that an offer?”
“It can be, but it’s mostly for our dear sober friend here,” Scar replied.
“Why, is he offering?”
Mumbo rolled his eyes. “I really, really hope neither of you remember this.”
“Why?” Grian asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” Mumbo sighed, looking at the dance floor. Most people were either chatting at the edges or passed out on the floor. “Is the party over?
“Don’t topic the conversation change,” Grian said. “Especially if you’re asking me out. Are you asking me out?”
Mumbo blinked.
“Please ask me out,” Grian said quietly.
“I want to, but not when you’re drunk,” Mumbo sighed. “And Scar too, I want you both. But when you’re sober, I won’t take advantage of you.”
“But you won’t, though,” Grian said. “You’ll pretend this never happened, cause you’re too scared of the consequences that could occur if we don’t love you back, and you don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
Mumbo paused, then looked around the hall again. “I, uh, need to go and make sure Pearl’s okay. In fact, I should make sure everyone gets back okay.”
Grian huffed, but let him get up, moving over to the mass of unconscious bodies on the floor.
After checking to make sure everyone still had a stable pulse, he returned to Grian and Scar. “Come on, let’s go back to starter bases, they’re closest.”
He managed to get both of them into bed, still fully dressed but fast asleep, then returned to the party. One by one, he carried it dragged the Hermits to their starter bases, then made a quick building, in which he placed enough beds for the emperors, getting them into them.
It was about five in the morning by that time, and Mumbo didn’t see much reason in going to bed. He cleaned up from the party instead, scrubbing the sticky floors and filling bin bags with rubbish.
At about seven, Xisuma entered, with faded but visible sharpie marks still on his face. He’d obviously tried to get them off.
“Oh thank you Mumbo,” Xisuma said gratefully. “Sorry for falling asleep, I should’ve helped earlier.”
“No, go back to bed,” Mumbo told him. “I’ve got this covered today. Everyone will be too hungover to cause havoc, and you need the sleep.”
“Are you sure?” Xisuma asked. “You haven’t slept either-”
“I’ve slept every other night this week. You’ve always been woken up by someone breaking rules or laws of physics or whatever. Go take some time for yourself. That’s an order.”
“Okay,” Xisuma smiled tiredly. “Thanks, Mumbo. I’ll see you in a year or so.”
Mumbo chuckled, watching him leave before getting back to work.
He had finished by half seven, and took out the trash bags. Then he showered, cleaning himself up and having a snack before starting his check of the Hermits and Emperors.
Grian was awake and had drained the glass of water Mumbo’d left by his bedside.
“Good morning,” Mumbo said, refilling the water.
Grian groaned, burrowing under the covers.
Mumbo looked at him fondly. “Do you want any food?” He asked gently.
“Mm,” Grian said. “Biscuit.”
Mumbo found a packet in Grian’s very disorganised kitchen cupboards, putting two on a plate on Grian’s bedside table.
“I’m gonna make sure everyone else is okay,” he said quietly. “Call if you need me, your comm’s on the table.”
Grian hummed, turning over.
Scar was in a similar state, although he seemed more awake than Grian, smiling wearily at Mumbo.
“Hello there,” he said as Mumbo entered. “Did you bring me back here?”
“Yeah,” Mumbo replied. “You feeling okay?”
“No worse than a hangover, I’ll be fine in a couple hours. It’s my own fault for getting drunk,” Scar chuckled. “Did I make a fool of myself?”
“Not particularly,” Mumbo replied. “Do you not remember?”
“Not specifics, just noise and lights,” Scar yawned.
“Okay. Want a refill?” Mumbo asked, gesturing to his empty glass. “I have biscuits too.”
“Both would be nice, thanks,” Scar smiled gratefully.
Mumbo went around the houses, giving everyone more water and a biscuit or two each. When he’d been around to everyone, he went back to Grian, who was still under the covers.
“You need to get up, G,” Mumbo said gently, peeling back the duvet just enough to see his face.
“No.”
“You’re still in the dress, that can’t be comfortable,” Mumbo sighed. “You’ll feel better with a shower.”
“You’ve clearly never been hungover,” Grian huffed. “I feel shit whatever I do.”
“Language.”
“English.”
Mumbo blinked. “That’s not what I- never mind. Do you want a bath instead? Would that be easier?”
“I guess,” Grian sighed.
“Okay, I’ll go set it up for you.”
Mumbo ran a warm bubble bath, getting a towel and some clothes for Grian to change into after. When it was full, he went back to find Grian still in bed.
“Shall I just carry you there?” He asked, only half joking.
Grian blinked at him and shrugged, yawning.
“Okay,” Mumbo said, scooping him up, blankets and all. Grian squeaked, clinging onto Mumbo as he walked to the bathroom.
“There,” Mumbo said, putting him on his feet. “If you need me just shout, I’ll be within earshot.”
Mumbo went back to Grian’s bedroom, subconsciously tidying away the items scattered across the floor. He moved onto the kitchen after that, tidying the cupboards and getting out some implements and ingredients.
Scar arrived as he was figuring out how to turn the hob on, hair damp from a shower.
“I thought I’d find you here,” he remarked. “How’s Grian doing?”
“Very hungover,” Mumbo answered. “I’ve forced him into a bath, but he’ll probably be down soon, I heard the water draining. Do you want breakfast?”
“That would be nice, thank you,” Scar smiled.
Mumbo cracked another egg into the pan. “No problem.”
Scar took a seat at the table and they chatted until Grian appeared in the doorway, hair dripping, and stumbled over.
He flopped into a chair beside Scar, leaning into him and slipping his eyes closed.
“Morning G-man,” Scar smiled, wrapping an arm around him. Grian mumbled a reply, pressing his face against Scar’s cloak.
Mumbo was careful not to clash the plates as he served them both.
Scar nudged Grian towards his plate, handing him his cutlery, then looked up at Mumbo. “Are you not having anything?”
“I ate earlier,” Mumbo replied, running the tap to start washing up.
“If you’re sure,” Scar said, digging into his full English. “This is good, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Mumbo replied, hiding a smile as he turned to the washing up.
The rest of that day was fairly slow, most people still hungover or catching up on sleep. Mumbo spent the day with Grian and Scar, all three just chatting and enjoying each others’ company until nightfall, where they each returned to their starter bases to sleep.
Grian was woken up the next morning by a loud crash and a thump on the end of his bed. He sat up to find his window smashed, glass all over the floor. Scar was sprawled at his feet, looking excited and slightly guilty.
“Good morning!” Scar said cheerfully.
Grian blinked at him. “You have glass in your hair.”
Scar winced. “Oops. Sorry for breaking your window.”
“Are you hurt?” Grian sighed.
“Nah, not badly,” Scar replied. “Just a scratch or two. But I have something important to show you!”
“This better be extremely important,” Grian sighed.
“It is!” Scar said eagerly, climbing up the bed and sitting beside Grian, pulling out his communicator.
“Your hair is a death trap,” Grian stated.
“I’m aware, my elf side is hating me right now, but this is top priority,” Scar said, clicking on a video. “Drunk me decided to record a conversation I had at the party, cause I knew I wouldn’t remember. I found the video this morning and I gotta show you.”
“Oh no,” Grian muttered as Scar clicked play.
It was mostly dark, although there were flashing disco lights in the corner of the screen. Grian could just about make out Mumbo and Scar. Then video-Grian walked over to them.
“Of course I made a fool of myself,” Grian sighed, watching himself stumble.
“No, listen!” Scar said, shushing him.
“-gay?” Grian heard video-Scar ask.
“Obviously,” video-Grian replied. “Why? Is that an offer?”
“Oh god.” Grian felt a flush of shame creep down his neck. “I’m never drinking again.”
“Shush, we’re getting to the good part!” Scar said.
“Please ask me out,” video-Grian said quietly.
“I want to, but not when you’re drunk,” video-Mumbo gave a sigh, and Grian’s mouth flopped open. “And Scar too, I want you both. But when you’re sober, I won’t take advantage of you.”
Scar paused the video. “Isn’t he the gentleman?”
“But he hasn’t said anything now we’re sober,” Grian stated.
“You called it, too, listen.” Scar pressed play.
“But you won’t, though,” video-Grian said. “You’ll pretend this never happened, cause you’re too scared of the consequences that could occur if we don’t love you back, and you don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
“And he did exactly that,” Scar said, pausing it again. “Now the question is, what shall we do with this information?”
“Are you- like, opposed to the idea of being in a poly relationship?” Grian asked nervously.
“With you and Mumbo? Dude, why would I ever reject that?”
Grian chuckled. “Okay, well, I’d like it too, and clearly Mumbo’s on board. So what’s the next step?”
“Well,” Scar grinned. “Since Mumbo didn’t gather the courage to ask us himself, we’ll have to do the honors.”
At that moment they heard the front door open and close. “Speak of the angel,” Grian remarked.
“Are you sure it’s him?” Scar asked.
“Yeah, he’s the only one I let into my house without knocking. Except you, obviously.” Grian gestured to the glass covering the floor. Scar laughed guiltily.
“G? Are you awake yet?” Mumbo called from outside the door.
“Unfortunately,” Grian called back. “Mind your step when you come in though.”
Mumbo opened the door and stepped back. “Is that glass?!” He looked at them. “Scar, what did you do?”
Scar glanced at the empty window frame. “Nothing?”
Mumbo sighed. “I’m going to get a broom. Neither of you are hurt, right?”
“Other than my hair, no,” Scar replied.
“Good,” Mumbo went back downstairs.
“So, are we gonna ask him now?” Scar asked.
“Wait for me to get dressed first, I’m not doing this in my pyjamas,” Grian replied.
“Mkay, but then?”
“We’ll just see how it goes I guess,” Grian shrugged.
Mumbo returned, sweeping all the glass into a pile in the corner of his room.
“Right. Scar, want help getting the glass out of your hair?”
Scar blinked, glancing at Grian, who smirked.
Scar sighed. “Yes please.”
Grian smiled at him, getting out of bed. “Well, I’m going to go get dressed, since someone decided to wake me up with a heart attack.” He chuckled at Scar’s pout. “I’m kidding Scar, I don’t mind. See you in a minute.”
When he returned, washed and dressed, Mumbo was sitting behind Scar on the bed, carefully combing his silky hair, now free of glass.
“Hey,” Grian said, sitting cross legged beside them.
“Hey,” Mumbo replied. Scar had his eyes closed, bathing in the feeling, but his hand reached out to clasp Grian’s. Grian noticed Mumbo’s hand falter slightly, and he set the comb down.
“That’s done, I think,” he said, not looking at either of them.
Scar shifted to face them. “Thank you Mumbo.” He glanced sideways at Grian, who smirked.
“He doesn’t know the significance,” Grian whispered loudly. “He didn’t with my wings either.”
“What do you mean?” Mumbo asked. “What significance?”
Scar chuckled. “Elves don’t let just anyone touch their hair, Mumbo. Likewise with avians’ wings. It holds significance.”
“Oh.” Mumbo blinked. “Well, I’m honoured that you both trust me.”
“It’s not just trust, Mumbo,” Grian smiled. “It’s usually a mating thing, as a way to express love for the other.”
A blush spread across Mumbo’s face. “O-oh,” he stuttered. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise- I do hope I wasn’t overstepping, oh gosh-”
Grian laughed fondly, reaching out to hold Mumbo’s hand and seeing Scar do the same. “Mumbo, you are an absolute spoon.”
“What he means,” Scar cut in. “Is would you like to be in a relationship with us?”
Mumbo’s jaw dropped. “M-me? With you both?”
Grian nodded, smiling fondly.
“This isn’t a prank?” Mumbo checked cautiously.
“Why would I prank about this?” Grian asked.
Mumbo swallowed. “Then… yes? Please?”
Scar breathed a sound of relief. “Oh boy, that was so much scarier than I thought it would be.”
Grian squeezed his hand as Mumbo blinked in confusion. “You guys planned this?”
“Obviously, we can’t just communicate through thought,” Grian laughed.
“Wait so- wait, so how long were you planning that?”
“Why do you think Scar broke through my window?” Grian chuckled.
Mumbo’s mouth opened and closed. “So- wait, does this have anything to do with what I said at the party?”
Scar beamed. “Drunk me recorded some of our conversation!”
“Of course you did,” Mumbo sighed.
“I’m fine with the outcome,” Grian shrugged.
“Yeah, me too, of course, but I can’t believe Scar-” Mumbo rolled his eyes. “Oh well, past now. So, um, we’re official now, right?”
“Yeah,” Scar shrugged, glancing at Grian. “I see no reason not to be.”
“So are we telling people?” Mumbo asked.
“Ooh, can I tell Pearl now? She’s been trying to wingwoman me for ages,” Grian laughed.
“Fine by me,” Scar said, Mumbo nodding in agreement.
“Great! Scar, cover your ears,” Grian said, getting up and leaning out the window.
“PEARRRLLLLLLL?”
A window of Pearl’s house opened, and she leaned out. “YEAH?”
“I DID IT.”
“DID WHAT?”
“THE THING.”
Pearl paused. “SCAR OR MUMBO?”
“BOTH,” Grian grinned.
“CONGRATULATIONS!”
“THANK YOU!”
Grian returned to Mumbo and Scar, who both blinked at him.
“Well now everyone thinks we’ve had sex,” Scar sighed.
Both of his boyfriends went beet red. “Scar!” Mumbo exclaimed.
“I’m just saying, if you take that out of context!”
“No one will think that,” Grian sighed. “Except possibly Joel.”
Mumbo flopped face-first onto the bed, head buried in Grian’s pillow.
Scar laughed, stroking his hair. “Sorry for embarrassing you Mumbo.”
Mumbo huffed, staying firmly buried.
Grian chuckled fondly. “Isn’t he cute when he’s embarrassed?”
Mumbo curled up, and Scar laughed.
“He is very cute,” he agreed, a smile in his voice.
“I hate you both,” Mumbo huffed.
“You love us too,” Grian teased.
“Obviously,” Mumbo replied, rolling over onto his back and leaning into Scar’s hand, which had slipped to his cheek. “Of course I love you guys.”
“You can’t fault us for finding you cute when you go and do that,” Scar told him, stroking his cheek.
Mumbo pressed against his hand, eyes closing. “And yet I will anyway,” he hummed.
There was shuffling, then Mumbo felt Grian curl up beside him, pressing his face against the back of Scar’s hand.
“We just woke up,” Scar told them with an audible smile. “You can’t go back to sleep already.”
“I can do whatever I want,” Grian replied. Mumbo felt his hands snake around Mumbo’s arm, clinging to him. “Who are you to stop me?”
“Your boyfriend?” Scar suggested, removing his hand.
Mumbo couldn’t help making a disappointed noise, forcing his eyes open.
“Come back,” he ordered.
Scar grinned. “Why should I?”
“I’ll confiscate your Hotguy bow.”
The look of horror on Scar’s face was worth everything ever in the world, and Mumbo suppressed his laugh.
Scar flopped onto the bed on Mumbo’s other side, reaching one hand over to hug him.
“I love you,” he mumbled in Mumbo’s ear.
“I love you too,” Mumbo smiled.
“Hey! You’re blocking the entire window!”
“Joel, let us see.”
“Shush you guys, you’ll wake them up!”
“Has someone got a photo?”
“Does this mean they’re actually finally dating?”
“It must do, didn’t you hear what Grian called to Pearl?”
“I assumed they’d had sex.”
“Yeah, well, you would think that, Joel. Mumbo’s mentioned he’s ace before.”
“Has he? I didn’t know that.”
Mumbo listened to the hushed whispers, keeping his eyes closed. They sounded to be coming from the smashed window.
“Obviously not, you’re on entirely different servers.”
“We were on Last Life together!”
Mumbo cracked an eye open. “We were enemies on Last Life, Joel.”
The group of Hermits and Emperors froze, staring at him.
“Scatter!” Shelby yelled, and there were various fireworks set off.
Scar chuckled, opening his own eyes. “Well, they all know now.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Grian asked, stretching his wings out with a yawn.
“Not particularly, I don’t mind,” Scar shrugged, peeling himself off of Mumbo. “What time is it?”
Mumbo checked his watch. “Ten in the morning. Shall we have some brunch?”
Grian got up, wings fluttering happily. “That would be nice, I haven’t had breakfast.”
“Okay,” Mumbo smiled.