Work Text:
Mumbo was stumped, glaring at the stuttering machine over the last page of ‘The Typical Bugs/Human Error Checklist. “Server compatibility? No, I’ve built it here before. Bother.”
He stored the notebook back in the correct jacket pocket - always right-hand inside pocket - before pacing down the blinding marble lined glass path to yet again try to find the issue with this really quite simple machine. He thought it might have to do something to do with exposure to the elements. After all, his build consisted of a slab of earth lifted into the sky by almost nothing.
Mumbo huffed, remembering how his neighbours described it as ‘a giant spherical window frame, hold the glass’. Of course, it wasn’t finished yet, but he was quite happy with his outline. Bright, open, and symmetrical, typical of his style of building.
As a last ditch he decided to choose the most obvious solution. Disturbing the dusty line of redstone wiring connecting the machine to the large power beam in the centre of his base. He shuddered at the idea of how difficult the shimmering powder will be to wipe off his gloves later.
He replaced the line and a distinct Click click. Pop. Click click. Pop. click click. Adding itself to the background cacophony typical of Mumbo’s home. “Yes! Success!” He slumped against one of the four outer arches supporting the base muttering “My goodness I am never ever building that ever again.”
His head lolled to the side, rhythmic tapping joined the mechanical melody, and glanced to the sky. This is truly why he builds the way he does, open blue skies and no walls to create echos. No other reason, the vaguely brown-red shape currently hurtling at rocket speeds westward bound was definitely not factored into the equation this time around.
"Mumbs!" Grian swooped from the skies, unwittingly landing precariously on the same ledge he picked mid-construction, long ago. “I have a proposition for you.”
“Hello! Should I be worried?” He looked through Mumbo, observing the new additions to the skyline. Or was he glaring? “No. I mean I hope… not.” He glanced at the machine again. “What is that?” “Oh! It’s an automatic storage system - just finished with it - I’m really quite pleased with it, it almost worked the first time round this time!”
Grian’s brows pulled together. “yeah um, right what was I-? Uh.” “You alright mate?” “Huh? Me? Yes, fine.” “Hm.” Mumbo swivelled from his fidgeting friend to his admittedly loud mechanics, quickly flipping the switch and turning expectantly as the tension gripping Grian subsided with the otherwise homely clicking and plopping. “Aha, there you are, carry on buddy.”
"Thanks, sorry, I don't know what happened there, noises muddle the script" He gestured to his head "Script? That’s weird buddy." And there, that look again. "Yeah like when you…” His expression reverted. “Yes, that! Right! So, my good friend, my pal, follow me."
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
The tunnel opened into a roughly carved room, a dark wood table and two chairs facing a carved platform which Grian clambers onto as Mumbo chooses his seat. "Right, so you're good at redstone, yeah? I mean, I can make a chicken farm but that's about where my capabilities drastically fail. So you can build the redstone-y sort-y thing-y. And I can do advertising, because I know you don’t like talking much. I should build the shop exterior as well yeah? I mean don't take this to heart Bo, but you can tell building is not your greatest specialty either. I mean-" A look of horror flashed across his face "Buddy, your 'sphere' is an ovoid from hell on its better days."
Mumbo snorted, "Yeah of course, and your base is very different from mine, white, grey, and round-ish."
"Mine's better. Anyway that's not the point here! Think about it, you and me, business partners, it'll be great. Right?"
“Not to mention the pure innovative genius of building in the ocean.” Mumbo's eyebrows raise. "Does insulting peoples bases usually work?"
“Um, well you see- No, no not really.”
The room swiftly devolved into laughter, the pair of them clutching their sides, gasping out words between lingering bouts of giggles. "Well, you've finished your base, and we all know I'm never going to finish mine." He hopped from the makeshift stage to perch on Mumbo’s chair arm.
“What are you going to get up to now? No one ever sees you around.” “I like being alone sometimes, it’s nice.” “You’re such a hermit, in a bunch of hermits, you’re a hermit-hermit” “Sure buddy.” He shuffles to face Grian “You know you barely count as a hermit, I think we should kick you out.” Grian laughs, in his face. “like you could live without me you nerve riddled fool.”
A comfortable silence fell over the small room. Mumbo never understood the general obsessive need to fill every gap in a conversation. He liked this, just existing with the people he cares about.
Sometimes he thinks this is why he and Grian got on so well with each other. Grian was loud and loved talking to new people where Mumbo talks to the floor and freezes so badly he can’t draw a breath let alone speak aloud. Yet underneath they’re drawn together by some unspoken, unseen force - a comfort in one another's presence, secure in a lack of judgement acknowledged long before this world.
Yet…
“Mumbo? Why do people think we’re weird?”
The mentioned man slid his eyes open - not having noticed them close - to study his friend's face. He was leaning heavily on the back of the chair. Mumbo shuffled to the left, there was plenty of space for two, no need for one of them to be uncomfortable.
“Do they?”
Grian nodded, sliding into place next to his friend, avoiding looking at the other. “I’ve heard people talking.” He pulled his knees up to his chest, playing with his hands as he rambled near-disjointedly. “Well, you know. Like earlier, when you had to turn the sorter off? How I can’t think with a lot of noise. I’ve gotten… looks, for leaving things early because it’s loud. People think I’m making an excuse to leave or it’s not as bad as I say but I swear it is. Some days it gets in my head and it builds and builds, and I can’t stop it. Until I have to leave because I can feel it carving out my insides and scraping against my bones until the voices of the people I love make me sick.”
He pauses, shaken out of the rant by the need to take in a quivering inhale. He glances through his hair towards Mumbo, who blessedly holds an understanding expression on his face, not the pity Grian feared.
“I uh, don’t bring it up anymore, people think I finally grew out of it or something. But now I keep getting jabs about how it’s odd that I have to stick to plans, or how my base is always a mess. You know how hard I try to keep it clean, you’ve seen the planners and sorter designs. You know how hard I try.” He rests his temple on his knees, better facing Mumbo. “I can never get it right, Mumbs, I never know what to do. I don’t know what I do wrong.”
On the other end of the seat, Mumbo finally sees the look he’s been trying to decipher all afternoon. Underneath it all, Grian is exhausted.
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think you’re doing anything wrong.”
“I know.”
The pair sit together, the quiet seeming to crowd the gap between them, starkly different from the bubble that normally comfortably slips around them.
“You know, people say the same stuff about me too. Well, not the same. Things about my lists, and how I never get what people are saying until they explain it - jokes and things.”
“What? Like how you take everything literally? Yeah I’ve heard people say that about you.”
“But I don’t take everything literally!”
“Mumbo when people say ‘everything’ they don’t actually mean everything, just more than normal”
“That’s silly, and very subjective.” Mumbo studied the grain of the seat beneath them as Grian looked away.
“Yeah.”
He watched Grian out of the corner of his eye, worrying at his lip as he noticed the joke hadn’t lifted the corners of his friends lips as he’d hoped. It was odd, seeing his usually exuberant best friend so downtrodden over whispers about them. Especially when they both knew otherwise, right?
“Do you know why I spend so much time in my base?”
“Hm? No, why?”
“People like that.”
“Really? I thought you just didn’t like leaving the base much.”
“No, I don’t, I really like spending my time with just myself or you.” He bumped his shoulder into Grian’s. “But no, I can’t stand being out for long. I think it’s something to do with how particular I am with things. When people would mess with my stuff or break the social rules I’d set for myself it would totally freak me out. I’d get so overwhelmed that I’d have complete meltdowns, just smack bang in the middle of the place! So yeah, I decided it was easier to stay out of the way.”
“And that works?”
“Totally, only ever happens anymore on really bad days, so you haven’t really seen one I guess.”
Mumbo reached up to scratch the back of his neck before rest his hand back on his legs, Grian glanced at him - face like an open book running through the newly acquired information.
“Don’t people think that’s… weird?”
“Of course they do, but see that’s the thing, I don't care about all that anymore. People have all different types of what’s normal or not to them based on so many different things. If you care that’s okay of course, but it’s not an attack on you. They don’t know you enough for their opinions to hold any weight. You have your reasons for doing whatever, and it’s not their business anyway.”
He reached across the gap between them. Picking up the closest hand worrying the hem of Grian’s jumper and holding them between his own. “People who care shouldn’t need those reasons anyway, you’re a great friend Grian, nothing else should matter.”
A small smile slowly spread across Grian’s face. “You know what else I’ve heard” Mumbo allowed the blatant change of topic. “No? Gosh, what now?”
“I’ve heard people think we’re going out.”
“Going out? What do you mean? Like?” Grian lifts their joined hands and raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at the baffled man connected to the offending hands. “What?” The room filled with laughter, the pair finally relaxing out of the difficult conversation leaning against each other shoulder-to-shoulder.
Nothing was fixed- it might never be - but for now the pair, as ever, have one another. To adventure with, to look out for the other, to start doomed business ideas together. They knew each other.
“What do people know?”