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Mumbo and Grian had an odd relationship.
Stereotypical, popular campus ‘bad boy’ and awkward, emotionally constipated goth guy. Even though you would expect weird, clique-y group dynamics to stop in college, the fate of their relationship was decided before they even saw each other for the first time.
Mumbo remembers the first time he met Grian.
At a party. Beginning of freshman year.
He remembers the way Grian’s leather jacket blended in with the moody lighting of the cramped dorm room they were in.
He remembers how Grian approached him, commenting on how his friends had abandoned him to make out in a corner.
He remembers how breathtaking Grian looked.
Mumbo didn’t speak, Grian just laughed and took hold of the shirt Mumbo was wearing to tug him towards an empty room.
This was all unmarked territory for Mumbo, making out with someone he had just met, at a party no less? He was nervous and awkward but yet so excited. He felt… wanted. For the first time in his life he felt like he could be desirable.
-
Mumbo didn’t see Grian again for a few months. Although he thought about him a lot, first semester of college kept him busy enough already.
It was well into the spring semester when he spotted the mop of mousy hair in the corner of a crowded kitchen, having a lively conversation with some tall brunette.
Grian’s eyes meet his, and before he can even process it, Grian is squeezing his way through the crowd to get to him, grabbing him by his bicep to pull him in a secluded section of the frat they were at.
They talk for a while. Superficial small stuff. What do you major in again? How did your exams go?
Mumbo notices Grian’s boredom halfway through him telling an anecdote of a teacher accepting a backflip as an extra grade.
Grian shuts him up with a kiss.
-
Mumbo feels giddy.
He knows he’s crushing on Grian. Full on.
He takes a little extra time getting ready every morning, making sure his hair looks just right and his eyeliner isn’t smudged too much, just in case he happens to run into him. Does he feel like an absolute fool by the end of the day, walking back to his dorm after not seeing him? Yes, but Mumbo has enough reasons to think that all that isn’t pointless.
Making out with someone means that there has to be at least a little bit of attraction right?
Mumbo’s friend tells him he’s a goner, and he knows she’s right, but it somehow feels right for Mumbo to feel that way about Grian.
-
Grian was attractive. In a conventional way.
Pretty eyes, gentle smile, good, cheerful personality. Mumbo liked- no, loved that about him.
They didn’t see each other a lot, mostly at parties or at the campus library, but every time Grian managed to carry a conversation effortlessly, with a smile on his face and that same cheery tone in his voice.
It made Grian perfect, and Mumbo absolutely hated that.
If he thought Grian was perfect and hot and pretty, a lot of other people would think so too, and he knows for a fact they do, because who wouldn’t.
He’s the first to notice the lingering glances everyone throws Grian’s way, or the touches that last a second too long whenever someone else is talking to him.
Mumbo isn’t giddy or excited anymore. He feels dread every time he thinks about the possibility that he’s the only one that thinks those hazy, messy makeout sessions meant something, and that even if it looks like it, Grian just doesn’t like him.
-
Mumbo was an overthinker.
Although mostly those thoughts were proven to be no more than insecurities, he knew a day would come where there would be an exception.
He just hoped it wouldn’t be this.
The day had started just fine, he had gotten an invitation to a party, and knowing Grian, Mambo was sure he’d meet him there.
He was excited, giddy. Like those first few months he was crushing on Grian, before it all got too real.
"Mumbo! I was waiting to see you!"
Grian flicks a cigarette on the ground, stepping on it with his converse to make sure it’s put out, before walking up to Mumbo.
They walk into the room together, Grian quietly interlinking their arms.
"When did you get here?"
"Hm… A few hours maybe? I was one of the first to get here." Grian answers, looking down at the watch on his wrist. "To be honest… This party is so shit, I was just waiting for you to get here." He laughs, turning left into a secluded hallway.
They stop in front of a door, Grian cracking it open slightly and peering in, before opening it wider and walking in.
Mumbo closes it behind him, following Grian to where he had dropped down to sit on the floor. They stare at each other for a while, not saying anything, but slowly, with that same easiness as always, their lips meet.
Grian’s hand reaches up to cup Mumbo’s face, caressing his cheek with so much gentleness Mumbo almost can’t bear to feel it. Almost.
This is all just fuel to a fire buried so deep in Mumbo he feels as if it is part of him.
Grian manages to move himself to sit on Mumbo’s lap, his arm wrapping around Mumbo’s neck and bringing him in even closer.
"What are we?"
The question seems to shock even Mumbo, who directly averts his eyes in embarrassment at the look on Grian’s face.
"I uh- I never really thought about it…"
"Oh." Should he cry? Mumbo really wants to cry right now.
"I thought we were friends."
"Oh.."
Mumbo’s mouth stays in the same ‘o’ shape for a few seconds, unsure of what to say.
He rasps his throat, scratching the back of his neck.
"But… maybe you could take me out someday?"
"I’d love to."