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The dry, Idaho heat fills the game store unrelentingly as Garrett paces about the room. The lack of AC does nothing to help his already short patience waiting for the other man, his garishly denim outfit and faux-leather cowboy boots only trapping the heat emitting from inside and outside his body.
Despite rarely admitting it aloud, Garrett was always excited for their Boy's Trips. Every other weekend or so, when Steve and Henry get a bit craft-ansty and Garrett needing a break from the real world, the three of them take a Boy's Trip: A weekend excursion to the blocky world they so adored. This happened every other weekend or so, being primarily due to the three of them having various scheduling conflicts with school, shop problems, you name it. However, the other reason? Steve and Garrett not going to these trips alone.
There have been multiple instances of either just Steve and Henry going or Garrett and Henry going- the kid couldn't go without adult supervision according to Natalie and Dawn- but never just Garrett and Steve. Henry would always let the two know days in advance if he was too busy with school work to join for their trip, and thus the trips wouldn't be planned or just fizzle out.
Today, however, Henry seemed to have forgotten to let them know.
While the kid had been quiet throughout the week, the two of them had assumed to still be ready for the excursion: this time planning for a winter-mountain camping retreat. Due to the conditions, they had packed a bit more than normal- warm clothes, flint n' steel, wool- and had everything ready in some bundles and shulker boxes. However, when the day of came and Garrett had phoned Henry, the kid frantically offered apologies: "I'm so sorry guys, I thought I had let you know already! I have a big test Monday and I've been studying all week. I can't make it." Not a problem, obviously, but now neither he nor Steve had a good excuse to conveniently call off the Boy's Trip or let it fall off naturally.
"Hey man, what's taking so long!? It's HOT down here." He calls out to the back of the store, where Steve had decided to live when in the over world. Garrett offered it in passing to the man when he decided to join the real world again, knowing there was a spacious storage room in the back and that he had nowhere to call home here. With the man's natural resourcefulness and creativity, it quickly begun to look better than Garrett's own dingy apartment, though you wouldn't catch him saying that out loud anytime soon.
"Slow your roll Garre-Garre, just double checkin' the bundles." Steve states as he lumbers into the room. The other is wearing his older shirt, a warm long-sleeved teal shirt paired with long pants and leather boots. He's geared up with various bundles hanging from the rings of his belt. "Ready to rock and roll!?" Garrett splits into a toothy grin, almost forgetting the confused nervousness that had been filling his gut all day "As always man!"
The hike was treacherous, and they both agreed that it was better in the end Henry didn't end up joining. (Though, the kid definitely could've made a contraption to ride up the snowy slopes with.) The snowy peaks were steep, cold, and dangerous at every turn. One wrong step to the left, and Garrett would be sent falling down 10 steps instead. Not that it had happened. Nah, totally not.
Steve, however, seemed to be right in his element. He didn't know why he was surprised, yet his ego stung despite it. The man completed such difficult tasks as easily as breathing and, despite coming to terms with 'being a loser,' the difference between still mined away at whatever remained of his confidence. Steve hopped from block to block, even those seeming impossible to jump, with not even a stumble. What affected him most was the fact that the big fellow would wait for him at every step of the way, despite the jokingly-dickish comments. It was easy to contribute the feeling in his chest from those moments as jealousy, rivalry. He would pointedly ignore the other, much softer, feeling that arose from it as well. He didn't have, no, couldn't let himself have the courage to confront that softness within himself yet. That was reserved for the kids, the shop. Not for his own, stupidly confused emotions.
"Oi, watch where you're stepping! You could sink-" Steve's large hand grips at Garrett's shoulder, pulling him back closer to the other. Still wrapped up in his own thoughts and stupid emotions, Garrett reacts impulsively. "God, man! Yeah I get it. Don't need to keep hovering me, lets get a move on." He shoves past Steve, rudely bumping into his shoulder as he does so. He plows forward and upward through the snow quicker than he had before, trying not to dwell on the suffocating silence following his undeserved outburst. He wouldn't apologies, not if it meant admitting to his own insecurities over this whole trip. Over Steve. Over their friendship. Would it always be at this perfect peak, singing together in their own pseudo-band, or would it inevitably crash and burn, like all of Garrett's other past endeavors? He thinks he knows the answer already.
The awkward energy is suffocating as the two make their way nearly to the peak, hiking in silence. Garrett is too focused on keeping up with this new pace that he had set with himself to even care about it. Nah, not him. By the next five minute, he's only three blocks below the top: their camping area. The finish-line energy spike rushes though him, and he makes a risky maneuver: a two block jump. He's cold and slow, but manages to make the landing! He instinctively turns around to gloat, but quickly finds his vision has turned into a sheet of white.
Ah, he stepped on one of those powdered snow blocks, didn't he? He failed at this task too, then? It's with these fleeting thoughts and the sound of muffled shouts that Garrett's vision fades from white to black.
.
.
.
"....guh.." Garrett's chest burns and his whole body feels numb, but at least he feels his body. There's a consistent heat near his left side, and a large presence to the right. "Garrett! You're awake, thank the aethers." He opens his eyes to see a weary but smiling Steve above him, taking up his entire field of vision. The man had snow stuck to his beard and looked tired, but ultimately fine. "Did I fall through powdered snow?" "Yeup. Just be glad It was a small one, those are deadly buddy!" ...Buddy. Usually he'd call him Garre-Garre. ...What a weird thing to focus on.
It was quiet after that, Steve mumbling something about finishing up with setting up the camp and for Garrett to keep relaxing for a minute. Begrudgingly following orders, Garrett sits up and decides to get a good view of the camp site. God, what a view.
They were at the top point of the highest snowy peak in the Icey mountain range. He could see everything: the village, 'Steve-land', remnants of the nether-battle. The forest they raced through with the ghasts was infinitely larger than he had felt when soaring through, the lakes wider than he expected, the mountains steeper than he'd ever known. There were biomes he hadn't even known exists and could see from this view: what in the hell was the grey patch of woods? The bamboo? So much unknown about this world that Steve had lived in for much of his life. A world that Steve helped cultivate and grow, with kindness and creativity rather than ego and obsession.
"...Sorry." "No problemo. It's super easy to slip through powdered snow, I've done it hundreds of times." Garrett breathes deeply, running a hand through his scalp. "Not about that." There's a silence then, only the sound of what seemed to be Steve's fresh mutton shops cooking on the campfire filling the void. He hears the shorter man walk over to him, sitting down beside him silently. The quiet comradery gave Garrett confirmation enough to continue.
"I was...upset that you were better at this than me. Better at a lot of things than me." Even outside of this world, he thought. His faux-leather cowboy boots push and pull snow aimlessly, his eyes staring fixatedly into the scenery. Anywhere but at Steve. Steve, however makes a scoffing noise. "Yeah, right." Anger flares up in his chest. "Whatever man! I was just-" "Woah, woah! I meant with the 'better than you' talk. I forgive you Garre-Garre, we're good." He lets out a relived sigh at that, feeling his tense body relax just slightly. "You're great at tons of stuff that I'm not! No clue why you're jealous of my 'skills' or whatever." "Bullshit." Steve punches his arm at that, half joking half not. Garrett can't help but to make a pitiful 'ow' sound at it, though.
"Dude you literally own a business, are the best arcade player I know, and can make killer crafts I've never even dreamed of. Of course you're better at some stuff than me." While Steve uses their usual "bro" talk, there's a soft sincerity in his tone that makes Garrett feel warm. And, for once, he doesn't push it away. It's hard to accept the statement, but he'll do it for Steve. "...Thanks." After punching sense into him, the other still hadn't moved back to his farther away spot. Instead, the two of them sat near each other silently for a while after, watching the sun set under the horizon.
By the time the stars had filled the sky, the two had decided it would be a good time to relax by the fire and have a good drink or two. The hiss from the can-opening of cheap bear is music to any emotionally constipated man's ears, the burn as the bile runs down his throat giving it a satisfying payoff. "Ah! Needed a good cold one after that summer heat. Great pick for the camping spot, bud." Steve laughs, taking a swig himself. "Yeah, Idaho is still as hot as I left it. Can't say I didn't miss it though. 'S great to have real people to talk to again, aside from villagers and piglins." Garrett hums, taking a more thoughtful sip. "Never really asked about that. How long were you in hell-prison for anyway?" Steve hums, setting down his drink. "Lost count of time. Felt crazy down there- couldn't craft anything! God they hated creativity, such a bummer!" His tone was light, but the underlying pain that laced the statement was heavy,
"Glad you got out of it. ...What are you up to lately though? On earth I mean. I've been so occupied with my storage investments that I haven't been around much." Garrett hopes the conversation jump wasn't too crazy; it just hurts to see his friend grow saddened by thinking of the past. Steve tilts his head back and forth after the question, making 'hum, hum's as he thought to himself. "Oh! Something did happen." His hands shoot up and excitedly gesture as he talks. "I met the new owner of my house- Alex she says he name is- convinced her to come visit us next time we sing together. How sick is that!?"
Garrett should feel great that Steve is acclimating back to the real world nicely, he should, but all he feels is a pit of dread at the bottom of his stomach. This is pushed back into the deep recedes of his mind, instead opting: "Heeell yeah! Always love more fans. What's she like? Cute or what?" "She's cool! Super strong. You'll love her, she also likes videogames." A pause. "Not as cool as you, but it's great someone good is living at my old base." The pit of dread lessens ever so slightly, yet remains.
"Yeah, it'd be lame if some lame suit-and-tie lived there! Thank god." They both chuckle, falling into a comfortable silence only broken by a yawn from Steve. He stands up, tossing the empty can into a nearby shulker box. "Think I'm retiring for the night- gotta have energy for the hike back down." Garrett stands, agreeing with the man. However, before he can really process what has happened, he is engulfed in a familiar warmth.
Ah, Steve was hugging him. His arms are frozen momentarily, face feeling unfamiliarly warm. It was a strong, comforting hug that only lasted for a moment. Garrett could only wrap one arm around the other man before he was already pulling away. Garrett had to stop himself from reaching back out- that would be embarrassing. He's already embarrassed himself enough today. "G'night Garre Garre. Don't let the phantoms bite. ... Seriously though, get some rest to prevent that. Those guys are the WORST."
As fast as the hug came, as fast as it went. Yet, Garrett's mind would remain thinking about it till he fell asleep. His mind would remain thinking about it as they hiked down the following day. His mind would even remain thinking about it throughout his week.
God, Garrett's emotions were stupid and he was fucked. His emotions are soft, especially in regards to Steve.
Not that he'll ever admit to that, though.