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Scar’s been giving him a look since he turned red.
Grian’s done his best to ignore it, trying to be the rational one between the two. Getting caught up with his teammate when things are so precarious wasn’t a good idea, no matter how tempting it may be.
The plan is still to leave when he turns yellow. He wouldn’t stay, and indulging in Scar would only make things harder. It may be a death game but letting their relationship develop only to leave seems especially cruel. He won’t do that to Scar and he won’t do it to himself.
But Scar’s been looking at him funny.
Grian shivers under his gaze but deep down, he knows he won’t do anything about it. Call him scared, call him a coward, call him every name in the book. But at least he can’t be called a lover.
Grian looks away when he feels Scar’s eyes pierce him, and it may hurt Scar now, but it’ll hurt a lot less later when he’s gone and can leave knowing he never gave in.
He wants to, the first night he notices the look. Scar had been red for a few hours. Instead of discussing trap strategy and kill possibilities, he wanted a good night’s rest.
As they huddled for warmth together under their blanket, cuddled closer than they had any business cuddling, he found Scar staring at him. His eyes were heavy with want and a hint of fear, and Grian almost reached out. He thought about it for a while as Scar talked about how different things were going to be.
Maybe Grian was the first to unconsciously send signals because he remembers staring at Scar’s lips as he talked. He can recall exactly how he shook himself out of it only to find Scar looking back at him.
But he didn’t do anything, and he’s been good at not giving in.
He caves the night they get the triple kill.
Fresh off the adrenaline of killing three people, with the threat of Ren lingering in the back of their minds, they retreated to the desert giggling and high off gunpowder. He’s got bits of sand under his fingernails and his wings are filthy, but that was the last thing on his mind as they gave themselves tonight off. They would start planting defenses tomorrow, but tonight belonged to them.
He should’ve known Scar was trying to set the mood. He lit a fire under the stars and they sat next to each other, their shoulders brushing and legs touching. Grian leaned his head on Scar’s shoulder and felt when Scar turned to face him.
Grian pointedly looked away. He knew what would happen if he looked back; if he let himself gaze into Scar’s eyes to see the heat and want hiding there, reserved just for him when there wasn’t a single soul around.
Sometimes it is around other people, like earlier after the kill when Scar couldn’t take his eyes off him. He… wasn’t going to digest that right now. Right now, he dodges Scar’s look and hopes he can get out of tonight unscathed.
He’s never been particularly strong.
He laughs at something Scar says, accidentally looking up, and Scar’s so close their noses brush together. He hears himself inhale and feels Scar tense. Grian’s the one closing his eyes, and Scar’s the one who closes the distance.
It’s a bad idea. The fact that it’s a bad idea crosses his mind more than a few times as their hands travel and Grian becomes lightheaded with the lack of oxygen. But he doesn’t stop Scar. The last thing he wants is for Scar to stop, even as they move from the floor of the desert to the inside of the castle.
Crossing that line was never in his plan. But now that they have, Grian can’t say he regrets it. Now when they kiss, it’s with a smile on their lips, always in each other’s space, knowing in the back of their minds that there’s someone to come home to at the end of the day.
When Grian turns yellow, he meets Scar’s apprehensive questions with a soft kiss, just to say he’s not going anywhere. He can’t imagine anywhere else on the server where he feels this safe and protected, because even if Grian’s the one who can’t keep it together more often than not, Scar holds him like he’s worth something.
Scar stabs him in the back like he’s worth nothing.
Grian kills him and it takes everything.
And that was supposed to be that. A bit of fun in the desert, some fooling around that doesn’t have a deeper meaning.
It was supposed to stay dead in the cactus ring with Scar.
It comes to fruition on the top of Magical Mountain.
Grian’s almost angry.
He told Scar to stay back, to stand on the stone bricks, and not move any closer. Mumbo said it wasn’t his fault because he’d been pretty explicit in his instructions, but once again, he watched Scar die for nothing . Now he’s red and Grian volunteered himself to give Scar his stuff back.
They’d been left to their own devices a few times, but never long enough for the temptation to grow overwhelming. He’d made it very clear that last time was done and dusted, doubling down when Scar asked if he could stick him on a llama and take him back to the desert.
He wanted to say yes, imagining having that life again, but he’d run off with Scar’s life instead. He still trusted him enough to believe Grian’s words at face value. He didn’t try very hard to get his life back.
Grian lasted longer this time, even if he could tell his and Scar’s self-control was hanging on by a thread. They were alone in the nether for a copious amount of time once and despite Scar having no loyalty to him, he didn’t kill him during his stint as the Boogeyman. He went for Mumbo instead, but he should’ve killed Grian if he knew what was good for him.
He makes his way over to Magical Mountain, and he can feel his hands shaking the closer he gets. He’s hot all over despite the cold night, shivering even though he can feel sweat beading on the back of his neck.
When he arrives at the entrance of Scar’s hut, the door’s already unlocked. He doesn’t think too hard about that. He tries not to imagine Scar knowing him well enough to know he’d be the one to bring his stuff back.
They both know he shouldn’t. They both knew he would.
Grian sighs as he steps into the hut, staring into Scar’s red eyes. It’s a sight he hasn’t seen for too long and it leaves him breathless, leaning against the dirt walls to keep his balance. Scar’s red eyes have that same glint, fiery and hungry in ways red names usually reserved for murder. It makes him trip over his feet as he moves deeper into the hut.
The door shuts behind him, automatically locking. “I have your stuff,” Grian says quietly. He makes no move to begin the exchange.
He shouldn’t have done this. He really, really should’ve given everything to Martyn and made him do this. Grian’s done nothing but get Scar killed. He’s the one who brought the creeper into the group, the one who didn’t warn Scar in time of the ravine. It was at his base that he fell into a pool of lava. It was under his hands that Grian felt his heart stop beating.
Scar nods, but he isn’t interested in his stuff. He barely glances at the contract Grian hands over, the one that contains the details of his undying fidelity. He puts his hand on Grian’s elbow and stops him from moving toward the door when he’s done.
“We shouldn’t,” Grian whispers. It isn’t a no. “If the others find out, they’ll be upset with me.”
Scar smiles down at him, something sinister and teasing all the same. “Since when has that mattered to us?”
He’s right.
Even when the entire server was whispering behind their backs about the sort of things they got up to in the desert, it never made them falter. Grian was the one to say he doesn’t give a fuck and move on with their lives.
That was after they crossed the line. He can still save them here.
“It’s a bad idea,” Grian reminds him.
“We’re built on bad ideas. What’s one more?”
It wouldn’t just be a bad idea, as if it’s as simple as trapping someone’s front door… But Scar’s logic is pulling him in, no matter how stupid it sounds. He wants and he aches, but he can’t. Not when he’s done so well to keep them apart for this long. Not when he’s resisted and things have been as good as they can be in these games.
“We can’t,” Grian tries, but Scar gets up in his space and he doesn’t even back up. He stays where he is. He watches Scar’s next move. He can’t tell if he’s going to like it or not.
“We can,” Scar whispers, his hair tickling Grian’s forehead. They’re so close, but Scar would back up if Grian told him to. He doesn’t want him to.
“We…” Grian doesn’t know what he was going to say because Scar leans down. Grian’s the one that moves forward to lock their lips together.
He almost wanted to be disappointed in himself, but a part of him knew this would happen if he came here alone. Scar’s on red, they’re under the cover of night, and Grian’s so desperate for him that he caves the second he’s allowed to have everything he’s ever wanted.
Grian shuts his eyes, pictures a desert in his mind, and sighs into the kiss.
Scar catches him when he’s coming back from BigB’s funeral.
He didn’t expect Scar to wait up for him, with them being newly red and all. It’s been a stressful day but there he is, sitting up against his bed when Grian returns. He wants to be surprised but it’s such a Scar thing to do.
Scar narrows his eyes at him. “What are you up to?”
Right. There’s the whole soulmate thing, and Scar isn’t forgiving him just yet for his stint with BigB.
Grian wants to say that he handled the news of them being soulmates well, but one doesn’t burst into tears upon finding out they’re soul bound to the person they ache for the most. He had to run away from Joel and Etho before they could see, furiously swiping at his eyes until his tears dried and he could interact with society again.
Before, at least he could say he tried to keep Scar away. He did a good job last time but now the universe has given him Scar on a silver platter with a nice little bow on top. He wandered around the server in agony for too long before he tracked Scar down and whacked him over the head a bit.
Worst of all, Scar seemed excited about teaming together again. He was already giving him looks and subtly touching him as they built the Red Velvet Keep. It was making him lose his mind.
It felt like the desert, building up the castle when they were still dancing around their feelings for each other. It was as if Scar wanted to skip that part and go straight to being lovers again.
That’s the last thing that’s going to happen.
How could Scar look at him when he’s getting him hurt? How could he be so okay with this arrangement after how terrible it went in the desert? Even when Grian pushes him away by acting out and finding himself someone new, Scar still looks at him with hope when he comes through the door.
It’s not the same look he typically gets when Scar wants him, but Grian can see he’s holding out for him. He wants to scoff and say it’s never gonna happen again so he can quit waiting around and get serious about the games.
But he gets back from the funeral he held for his secret soulmate and Scar’s stare is heavy with hurt and it kills Grian. A part of him wants to say that’s what Scar gets for trusting him. The other wants to say fuck it and throw himself at him.
Nothing is keeping them apart. They’re red, BigB’s gone, and they don’t have much longer. He can see in Scar’s eyes that he still wants him despite all he’s done. But he wants answers first. Grian doesn’t plan to supply them. He doesn’t plan on indulging him in this either.
“I was out,” Grian answers. He makes for his own bed and starts tugging off his boots.
He can practically hear Scar’s eye roll. “That’s all you’re gonna give me? Really?”
“What do you want me to say?” Grian snaps. “Sorry I’m not answering your questions the way you’d like me to?”
Sorry you’re stuck with me again.
Sorry the soul bond cursed you.
Sorry I can’t do anything but hurt you.
I’m sorry things aren’t the way they used to be.
Scar gets up. Grian sits up straighter as Scar stands in front of him. He puts a hand on the wall beside Grian’s head and leans down to talk to him. “You know that’s not what I want to hear.”
He’s right. Grian knows exactly what Scar wants from him. He sighs and Scar’s eyes drop down to where his chest is rapidly rising and falling, losing breath the longer Scar towers over him.
Scar leans down and traces along his jaw with his free hand. He almost wants to make this easy and just give in now, but after everything he’s done, he can’t imagine why Scar still wants him. It would be comical if he didn’t also want to cry.
“We shouldn’t,” but it’s weak even to Grian’s ears. “I’ll leave.”
It’s an empty enough threat that Scar laughs in his face. “You’ve had the chance to leave this entire time. You mean to tell me you want to go now that I want to kiss you again?”
Grian’s breath hitches. He’s losing control of this conversation at a rapid pace and it’s going to end in them making bad decisions again. “Why?”
“Because I don’t like to share my things…” Scar smiles. He said something similar after Bdubs boogey-killed him. The deja vu is so strong he has to shut his eyes. “And I’m not sharing anymore.”
So Scar knows how easy Grian is, he was just waiting for BigB to die to make a move. He could commend Scar for his genius plan but it’s working too well. “That’s exactly why we shouldn’t. I haven’t even been kind to you.”
The flash of hurt is back in his gaze but his red, intense stare overtakes it. “No, you haven’t. But we always play this game, don’t we?”
“What game?”
“The one where we see how long you can last without me.” Scar’s brushing his lips against his.
“Damn you,” Grian hisses, but he tugs Scar closer by his collar and slams their lips together in a bruising kiss.
He has a bad feeling about this one.
Joel’s just gone, he’s relying on Pearl and BigB to have his back, and he’s ended up at the Manor with Scar trailing behind him. He doesn’t acknowledge Scar as they head back together, but what they’re doing requires no words. They understand each other all too well.
“How long before your family starts asking questions?” Grian mumbles under his breath, leading him to the water elevator.
“Not long,” Scar answers. He doesn’t elaborate on that, but Grian wonders if he’s worried about that at all. He must not be if he doesn’t hesitate.
It’s at this point he has to ponder why he’s the only one who seems to hesitate when it comes to them, because there is a them at this point. Across three separate games, not once has Grian been able to commit to his word. He risks Scar’s safety every single time but his selfish whims win out.
Scar certainly doesn’t have any qualms with it. He’s always the one who reaches out first. He always makes the first move. He’s the one that can’t see that Grian’s bad for him even at Grian’s insistence. He always wants him more than he should for his own good.
It does wonders for Grian’s ego, but that’s not what this is about. Surely, there’s no way he misses digging sand out from Grian’s wings and the joyful, annoying chirps he used to let out when Scar returned home. Grian’s not entertaining enough, funny enough, or even good enough to warrant this cycle of getting back together every time.
No, it’s because they were happy then. Everyone wanted their blood and it was them versus the world, but they were together and content. Grian knows why he wants this time and time again, but he’s never really questioned why Scar chases him down in every game.
He stops in his tracks. Once he asks, it’ll turn into a whole thing and he’s not sure he wants to sit them down for that particular conversation at this very moment. He’s not even sure he wants the answer.
What will he do when Scar tells him it’s just a bit of fun? Is the chase of getting Grian to give in part of his game and has nothing to do with how he actually feels?
Scar isn’t a cruel man, and Grian knows that isn’t the truth. Still. It would almost be easier if Grian was the one pining hopelessly and Scar felt nothing. It would certainly be easier to leave if that were the case. It would put an end to this thing they keep doing.
But that isn’t the case, and whatever Scar feels for him isn’t something Grian should dig up. That’s a much more dangerous question; more dangerous than the TNT minecarts he keeps sending off of Skynet.
“What’s wrong?”
Right. He just stopped out of nowhere. He shakes his head and continues until they’re up the water elevator and Grian’s leading him to the actual base part of the Manor.
He scoffs as he looks around. Water everywhere, holes in the ground, parts where it’s obvious that TNT landed on it. It’s carnage. It’s embarrassing is what it is, but Scar doesn’t comment on the mess for his sake. He does the little things Grian can’t help but feel grateful for. It’s what keeps him coming back.
They’re standing in the middle of his base, and he wants to ask. He wants to demand to know what Scar feels for him and if this is all they’ll ever let themselves have. If secret rendezvous will forever be their fate even when they are soulbound together.
He’s sick of secrets.
This is a bad idea, but it’s even worse if Grian begins dissecting their relationship. He can do this. If this is all he can have, he’s okay with that. As long as Scar hasn’t left him yet, Grian will always be weak for him. If Scar keeps returning, Grian will let him back in sooner rather than later.
He doesn’t even try protesting this time. His fight died with Joel. They both know it’s a bad idea when they’re so late into the games, but Scar doesn’t have a problem when Grian pulls him in by the neck for a kiss sweeter than it should be.
They last twelve hours.
The camel felt too much like a llama.
The mesa reminded him of the desert.
And there was Scar, like always, leading him and laughing at all of his jokes. Grian had his arms wrapped around Scar’s shoulders and after strange encounters with BigB, he and Scar were alone.
He could sense it was happening this time. His objections fall short when Scar holds his wrists in his hands in a poorly lit corner of the map, looking at him like he hung the stars. Maybe Scar feels particularly grateful after Grian had let him reroll his task. Maybe he’s just remaining ignorant of Grian playing a bigger role in these games.
Whatever it may be, Scar’s seeking him out early. He did this during Last Life too, walking away dejected when Grian ran off with Mumbo and the others with Scar’s life. Looking back on it now, perhaps it would’ve been easier to give in then than to wait until Scar was red.
But when Scar’s red, he looks at him that way which deteriorates all of Grian’s self-control. It seems now that he never had any. The night hasn’t even passed but he’s leaning into Scar’s touch all the same.
“Like old times?”
Like old times, pfft. Grian shakes his head. He meets Scar in the middle anyway. Scar waits until Grian kisses first to really melt into him, and Grian’s pressed against him in a way that makes him think he’ll die if they aren’t closer together.
Neither of them moves into the mesa.
They don’t talk much this time around, actually. Scar went on to win.
As he cries for Mumbo, he feels a hand on his shoulder.
It’s a familiar hand, one he’s memorized the shape and feel of.
He follows Scar back to his base, past Skizz, past Lizzie and Jimmy. They all give them strange looks but no one says anything as Scar wipes the tears from underneath his eyes with a gentle thumb stroke.
Grian lies next to him for the night, and he has no reason to resist. Mumbo’s dead. Grian’s guilty. He knows everything that’s going to happen during the Wildcards but can do nothing to prevent it. And now Mumbo’s dead, he and Scar aren’t even getting along, and he’s in his bed anyway.
He always ends up in Scar’s bed.
Scar traces the dip of his cupid’s bow with his nails and Grian doesn’t do anything to deter him. It’s amazing Scar’s here right now and he won’t take him for granted. Even when his eyes sting from crying so much and his clothes are singed from reaching into the lightning for Mumbo, Scar still wants him. Grian’s not even ashamed to admit he wants this too.
He always wants this. He just tries to be responsible, but responsibility and selflessness never win against everything that grew in his heart in that desert.
When Scar leans in, he reciprocates just as eagerly. If not for himself, for everything between them they can’t let go of.
It was supposed to stay dead in the desert with Grian.