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The ripples of the river shifted under currents of air, even before Scar came into Grian’s line of sight. He tilted back on his wings, coming to land a short bit away from the water’s edge. Scar shook them out. Grian just watched, still holding his line out, the bobber slowly drifting back to stillness.
“Oh no.” The first thing out of Scar’s mouth as he walked closer. “Didn’t we do all this already? How’d you get pulled back in?”
Grian chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s not about a book this time.” He turned his eyes back to the line cast into the river. “Just felt like fishin’.”
Scar’s eyes widened slightly, and he raised a hand in a dramatic flourish. “Well, I mean, if you feel like fishing, there’s always-”
“MCCI isn’t fishing,” Grian interrupted. “I mean, it is fishing, but it’s not what I like about fishing. It’s too much thinking.” He sighed, the motion running through the fishing line and making it dance slightly. “And I’m already thinking too much. This fishing is a distraction from thinking.”
Dropping his hand, Scar nodded. “Understandable, understandable.” He paused, looking at the bobber, before adding, “Is it the kind of distraction that needs to be alone? Or would some company be the right kind of distracting?”
In answer, Grian jerked a thumb towards the barrels nearby. Scar pulled out a spare rod, sat down next to him, and cast.
Quiet, for a minute. Just the sounds of the water, of the reeling, of the barrels as catches are stored.
It was Grian who broke the silence, after three lily pads in a row had tangled on his hook. “I keep feeling like I haven’t gotten anything done this season.”
Scar didn’t say anything, but simply raised an eyebrow. Grian snorted.
“I know, I know, I’ve done plenty - it’s just hard to feel like it amounts to anything. It’s been, what, a little over a year? And this place is still…” He gestured above at a half-finished build around redstone. “I had plans, and I kept getting distracted so those plans don’t get done - and before you say it, yes, I recognize the irony in what we’re doing right now.”
“I wasn’t gonna say anything!” Scar protested. A beat, and he corrected himself. “Well, I was, but not about that! I was gonna say I get it cuz I’m in the same boat.”
“You are?”
A nod, casually hooking a cod as the conversation went on. “I’ve barely started on the zoo, man! The entrance only went up this last month, and I still feel like my starter base isn’t finished.”
“That’s because you have a skewed concept of what amounts to a starter base, Scar,” Grian pointed out. “Your train is not a starter base; it’s just a base.”
Scar slid the barrel shut again, grinning. “If you like,” he conceded, “but it doesn’t make the zoo any more done either way. I’ve just been too busy to get busy! First the train, then all of the shops like Twin Suns, and then getting a permit for the mobs took forever for some reason-”
Grian shot him a look. “As I’ve said before, I don’t discuss Permit Office business off the clock.”
Scar’s smirk twitched. “-some reason that will go unmentioned. Anyways, then there’s all the Poe-Poe work, and just now I had a trial to lawyer at, for ol’ Mumbo Jumbo over there!”
“Right, I haven’t gotten around to watching that yet,” Grian answered. His bobber caught on a drifting piece of wood, and he pulled it back to yank it free. “Didn’t I hear Mumbo complaining that you didn’t actually prepare anything for it?”
“I mean, I thought about it! I just didn’t want to be predictable for Doc to counter, or do some weird hivemind espionage and get my notes - can’t spy on notes that don’t exist. And Mr. Mumbo’s a free man, so clearly it worked!”
“Sure.”
“The point is,” Scar said, “that being too busy to get on with the plans we had is what we do. Not just you and me - Skizzy’s barely got two floors of his pyramid done, half of Impulse’s city is a parking lot, and I still don’t know if Doc actually has a house, or if it’s all just technical stuff out there. Everyone’s like this, this season. Too many new things going on to finish anything else.” He shrugged. “Really, we’re always like this, but I agree that it’s even more prevalent this season. And as much as I’d really like to get on and actually have the zoo finished before the season ends, I can’t deny all the distractions have been really fun!”
Scar paused. Gently, he drifted the point of his fishing rod, tilting it until it tapped gently against the end of Grian’s still-cast rod. Scar’s bobber swayed underneath, glinting in the glow of the sunset reflecting off the water.
“We’re spending time together. Planned, unplanned, off-the-rails, distracted - together. That’s the point of it all, isn’t it?”
Grian stared at the fishing rods, the point where they touched.
“...when did you get so thoughtful, Scar?”
“What do you mean?” A touch of theatrical offense in Scar’s voice. “I’ve never been anything but considerate of my dear Grian!”
With a huff, Grian knocked Scar’s rod away from him, even as he smiled. Scar smiled back, and cast his line out again.
Quiet, for a minute. Just the sounds of the water, of the reeling, of the barrels as catches are stored.
“...in hindsight, I really did run you around for that mob permit a little too much, didn’t I?”
“Eh,” Scar dismissed, “better me than anyone else. Maybe you won’t go so hard for the folks getting a chance at those permits we Purged.”
With a groan, Grian dropped his face into his hands, the fishing rod falling to the ground. “Oh dang it, Scar! Why’d you have to remind me? Now I’m gonna be thinking about actually having to do work!”
Scar laughed, even as his smirk faded into something more tender for a moment. He pulled back his line, resting it against the barrel. “I can distract you from that, too, if you like.”
Grian raised his head, skeptical. “Oh yeah? How?”
Scar reached over, one hand lifting to brush Grian’s hair back from his forehead. It curved down to cup his cheek warmly. He smiled, and leaned in.
And they were both distracted from anything and everything for a little while.