Archive of Our Own ^beta

-ˏˋ ☆ [ Heaven sent is a coffee cup ] ☆ ˎˊ-

Scar slowly blinked open his eyes, rubbing them sleepily. Dull sunshine broke through his blinds, casting sharp rays onto his bed and warming his hands. Jellie is tightly curled by his side, purring softly, and Scar can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. 

He taps his pointer and index together, bringing up a screen that reads ’11:00am’. 

“Already?” Scar groans, tapping them again to get rid of it, his tail flicking in frustration. Sighing, he slides out of bed, smoothly transferring himself to his wheelchair. Slipping on orange slippers, he rolls to the kitchen, turning on his coffee machine and listening in on its familiar, repetitive grinds and murmurs. 

He wasn’t particularly a coffee person, but sometimes the hit of caffeine was just what he needed. Rolling about, he poured food into Jellie’s bowl and watered the plants scattered around his flying caboose car, delicately removing any dead leaves to throw away. 

The machine whirred to a stop, letting out a hum to tell him his coffee was ready. Scar reached for the cup, the warmth nice against his cool fingers and the drink cozy against his throat. 

He took it to the balcony, sitting just shy of the edge and basking in the sunlight as he watched the world – a world filled with friends, a world never without something to do – simply just exist in peace. 

-ˏˋ ☆ [ Or the way you weigh your head on mine ] ☆ ˎˊ-

Yawning, Scar watches a figure appear on the balcony of another train car – this one more sensibly on the ground. The man was familiar, even as Scar squinted at him. He stood on the edge of the storage car, hand covering his eyes from the sun whilst scanning the train and landscaping. Scar watched him glance around, looking for something – maybe even someone, he hoped to himself. 

Suddenly, the pair locked eyes, and before Scar could roll backwards – let alone think –, Mumbo had launched a rocket and crash landed onto the balcony. 

“Mumbo! Careful,” Scar laughs, holding the boiling coffee away from the uncoordinated pilot, more worried about spilling it on him and not noticing the droplets scattered across his arm, searing red marks into his skin. 

“Ah- sorry Scar!” he smiled, pulling himself up. Mumbo towered over Scar when he was sat, although he was bulkier than he was, with toned muscles and a sharp jaw. His sheep horns poked through his messy black hair, his fluffy ears relaxed and his slanted, dark eyes stared at him with nothing but kindness. “Oh! Scar are you okay?” he exclaims, his tone worried and frantic as he bends down and wipes coffee from his arm.

“I didn’t even notice,” Scar flinches, the attention making the burns sting, Mumbo’s touch doing nothing but fuelling the fire. 

“I’m so sorry,” he fusses, examining the marks the hot drink had left. “I didn’t mean too, I promise! I was- I was just so excited to see you!”

Mumbo hadn’t been around recently, busy with projects in other worlds, his body left offline at his base, quiet and uncharacteristically still. Scar often joked that it was the most not-Mumbo Mumbo could ever be. 

“It’s okay,” he hums to Mumbo, tugging on his wheels with one hand to roll back inside. It was getting chilly, clouds blocking some of the sunshine, and Scar could feel it in in his muscles and the breeze flowing through his hair. “Come inside.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mumbo frets, taking the coffee cup from his hands, allowing Scar to maneuverer around the kitchen and living room with ease. He parks next to the couch, shifting himself over as Mumbo watches, fidgety, tapping the cup with impatient fingers, waiting for an answer. 

“I promise I’m fine Mumbo,” he smiles gently at him, meeting his eye with a soft, appreciative gaze. Mumbo promptly flushes, moving to sit next to him, a little further away than Scar would’ve liked. To fix this problem, he taps the couch cushion closer to him. 

Mumbo looks at him, then his hand, then back at him, flicking his gaze over Scar for what felt like forever, as if pondering what he meant. 

“Cmere,” Scar sighs, reaching over and pulling on his arm. He brought his forehead to meet Mumbo’s with a soft bonk, gazing into his eyes.

They did this a lot. 

Scar liked it, the touch of his skin, the gentle brush of his nose, the otherwise impossible proximity of his lips. It hurt, every time it hurt, but he still did it. 

He wasn’t sure Mumbo knew what it meant – he wasn’t sure there even was a meaning –, but he would always melt into regardless, never asking questions. 

-ˏˋ ☆ [ We are sunflowers begging for light ] ☆ ˎˊ-

Scar kept his hand on Mumbo’s arm, the touch burning his skin. A few stray rays of sunlight caught his dark hair, grey streaks reflecting the odd story Mumbo was a part of in this world. 

He stopped himself from running his hands through it, desperate to realign the messy strands, opting to pull away from Mumbo entirely. He turned to the light streaking through the window, half covered by blinds, Mumbo following his eyes. 

They watched as the sunlight faded, clouds suddenly consuming the great, fiery ball in the sky, casting the train in weak shadows. 

Without the light, Scar turned back to Mumbo, who turned back to him, and he waited for his eyes to readjust. Despite pulling away himself, Mumbo still leant forward, ever so slightly, a caring smile accompanying his pretty face, a soft blink accompanying the stray hand that rested on Scar’s. 

“So…,” Scar hums, blushing, “What are you up to today?”

“Oh, uh,” he stammers, blinking as if waking up from a daydream, “Not much. I just wanted to come say hi before I start on some terraforming.” Scar mourns the pressure of his hand, Mumbo waving them around to demonstrate the boulders he was going to create. “What about you?”

“Probably some terraforming too,” he replies, the ache in his legs unimpressed with his plans. 

“I’ll… be off then,” Mumbo hesitates, leaning towards Scar again for a brief moment. He stares at him with wide eyes, his gaze gentle, caring – a void Scar would do anything to get lost in. Standing up, he runs a hand through his hair awkwardly, looking down at Scar and letting out a sigh, followed by a breathy giggle. 

Scar stands too, wavering on his feet for a moment, Mumbo reaching out to steady him.  

“I’ll get your braces,” he says once Scar is standing comfortably, moving off to his room. 

It was comforting that Mumbo knew his way around so well, where he kept all his things, where he could look when Scar needed something. He soon returned, helping adjust the braces against his legs. They weren’t super helpful, but they added some sort of reliable support that Scar could lean on when his wheelchair couldn’t join him.

“Thanks, sugar,” he murmurs, sighing disappointedly at his legs. Mumbo blushes. “Come on, let’s head out,” Scar grins, shuffling past Mumbo to the balcony. 

Pulling elytra from his inventory, he spreads the fake wings and stares at the landscape. Hmm… I’ll start at Grian’s. 

“See ya Scar,” Mumbo ruffles his hair, though the pair are almost the same height. Equipping his own wings, he jumps off with a wave, gliding before turning around and rocketing beneath the flying train car, back towards his bae. 

Scar hates to admit that he missed him already.

-ˏˋ ☆ [ We turn to face these great blue skies ] ☆ ˎˊ-

Gliding from the balcony, Scar floats down towards Grian’s base perched on the mountainside, surrounded by ever growing wheat fields, mixed with patches of sunflowers. Sunflowers were his favourite flower; he thought they matched his energy, the green stems and thin, flimsy petals complimenting his complexion.  

Grian often agreed, ‘Just as devoted to the Sun as you are to admiring Mumbo from afar,’ he would tease, poking fun at him and his crush on Mumbo. Scar would just laugh. 

The overcast weather had already dissipated, sunlight warming the back of Scar’s neck as he lands beside the sunflower fields, overlooked by great blue skies. He pulled one towards his nose, its scent was weak but somehow powerful all the same, the petals delicate against his careful fingers. 

Scar works till the sun begins to set, spreading neat vegetation across empty patches of grass, cutting back the path towards his base, expanding and transitioning wheat fields to muddy, lush terrain, all whilst humming to himself quietly. 

The sunset was beautiful. He watched as it slowly inched down the sky, slowly hidden behind terrain, the sky glowing yellow, orange, pink and red. 

He taps his fingers to open the screen, a private message appearing in the corner that he had somehow missed. Luckily, it was only a few minutes abandoned. 

<Mumbo> The sunset is real pretty.

Scar smiles, heat bubbling in his chest at the thought of Mumbo deciding to type that to him, not Grian, not Joel, not any other hermit. Him. 

<Goodtimewithscar> Yeah.

He hesitates, then types again. 

<Goodtimewithscar> Meet me at Grian’s island.

He takes off, heading to the recently completed island that sat around the river that connected most of Cherry Mountain. It sat in the bend where the river turned to a lukewarm bay. A large, bushy tree stood tall at its centre; branches spread in a V-shape that dropped occasional leaves floating on the wind. The island was, of course, covered in wheat and sunflowers, on-character for the bubbly bird that created it. 

Flying just shy of the tree’s lowest branches, a patch of grass left un-cultivated by the shore catches Scar’s eye, and he decides he would wait there. 

-ˏˋ ☆ [ Heaven sent is a beach by sunset ] ☆ ˎˊ-

Soon, he heard a rocket in the distance, the woosh of wind against wings growing closer. Mumbo landed neatly beside him – or at least as well as Mumbo can –, extremely careful not to crash into him again, biting his lip with intense focus. Scar thought that was cute. 

“Hey,” Mumbo says, his voice calm. His familiar smile was soft, his breathing a littler faster than it should be after his flight and the gentle crunch beneath Mumbo’s feet followed by the brush of warm skin against his knee tells Scar he’d sat down beside him.

“Hello there,” Scar glances over at Mumbo, who’s eyes were instantly staring at the coloured sky, his body comfortable and relaxed. He held his knees tight against the chilled, ocean breeze, his hair shifting and blowing in the wind, the greying strands highlighted by the pale orange glow. 

Looking away, Scar lets his mouth open a little, tasting the salty air that travelled lazily away from the setting sun. He shifts to copy Mumbo’s position, the cold suddenly biting at his uncovered legs. 

His hand presses against the shore, sand finding its way into every crease, in between every nail. The rough texture was achingly familiar, triggering odd feelings, faded memories disturbed from the depths of his mind. He felt warmer, like the sun was suddenly back out again, baring down on him with sharp, spiny teeth. 

The sensation faded in the same breath it appeared. 

Scar shakes his hand a little, trying to remove the miniscule sediments, but he knew that, somehow, and despite his best efforts, they would make their way into his hair, his eyelashes, even the gaps between his teeth.

“It’s almost gone,” Mumbo whispers, startling him from his thoughts. 

Following his gaze, Scar sees the last sunlit hue of the horizon fading behind distant land. He watches the small lights that begin to flicker in the developing darkness, sparkling and buzzing as fireflies do, their faint clicking sound melting into the scenery.  

Craning his neck to the night sky, Scar watches stars twinkle to life, millions upon millions of immeasurable distances away, and yet, here for him to see. 

“Hey Scar?” Mumbo asks, his voice quiet, so deafeningly quiet, careful, cautious. 

Scar holds his breath. Was he expecting something? What was he expecting? But Scar picks up on his cheeky tone when Mumbo continues.

“Is the moon big?” Turning towards Scar and then over his shoulder, he gestures towards the moon as it rises over Cherry Mountain. 

The statement was a little odd and he’s almost entirely sure it’s a reference to another world they’ve shared, whether Mumbo can recall that or not – Scar certainly unable to. He laughs anyways. 

It was nice to sit here with his best friend, watching the light slip away until it rises again at the start of a new day. A day where, maybe, just maybe, Scar will say something, loosening the emotional shackles that have been trapping him down for years. 

-ˏˋ ☆ [ Stand on the edge, just a little too high || For the tide too shy to greet us ] ☆ ˎˊ-

The pair sat just a few metres from where water met sand, the faint lapping of waves a pleasant background noise. 

Scar had always liked the ocean. He used to swim when he was younger, and the dangerous touch of water had always been thrilling. It was always in control, no matter how well you could follow the waves, no matter how well you could fight it. 

Maybe that’s why, in this moment, with his eyes closed, listening to the tide wash over the shore, his chest was tight. 

Maybe that’s why he was so nervous, or maybe that’s why he was anxious. 

Maybe that’s why his heart was beating so fast, threatening to launch out of his chest, spilling unspoken words he desperately kept hidden. 

Scar faintly shook his head, turning his attention back to the ocean, watching it peacefully mirror the stars, distorting and melting their shape across wind driven ripples. He leans back, tilting his head and blinking up at the moon as it travels slowly and surely across the night sky, following the same path it has for millennia. 

“You like the ocean, right Scar?” Mumbo asks, breaking the silence that hummed in Scar’s ears.

“Yeah, it’s pretty. A great big splotch of blue, just like the sky,” he chuckles. “Well, not like we can see that blue,” he adds, glancing up into the endless expanse of space, the black shade blending with his companion’s hair. 

“Now, Scar!” Mumbo starts, excitedly, a sudden burst of information having popped into his brain. “The sky and the ocean have very different reasons for being blue! The ocean is blue because of the wavelengths of particular colours….”

Scar lets him talk – not like he’d get a word in otherwise –, opting to rest his head on his knees and watch the man speak science-y words he was too tired to try and understand. 

Mumbo shifted in the pale moonlight, turning to face Scar, still explaining how and why the ocean is blue – oh! And don’t forget the sky! Scar smiled at his hands which flailed about in the shadows. 

“… But simply!” he summarizes – though the topic is not simple in the slightest –, a smile clear in his voice, “Different light wavelengths will interact with different substances, creating different colours!” He nods, proud of his explanation despite it falling on deaf ears.

Mumbo was still turned to him and Scar traced his features with longing eyes, features that – regardless of the swallowing darkness – could only belong to, and were so obviously, Mumbo’s. 

The cool of the night was growing harsher by every passing second, Scar’s skin well and truly covered in goosebumps. 

His body acts without permission, desperate for any sense of warmth, but the only source was currently radiating from Mumbo. Scar leans into his side hesitantly, unsure of Mumbo’s response. To Scar’s delight, an arm wraps around his waist, a hand rests on his leg and Mumbo pulls him closer. 

“Cold?” Mumbo whispers as if the sound of speaking would disturb someone. 

“Mhm,” he shivers, the simple question sending full shakes through his body, his teeth chattering ever so slightly. Where their bodies touched was comfortably warm, which only irritated the rest of them that weren’t. Scar rests his head on Mumbo’s shoulder and, even from here, he can feel his cheeks radiating. 

“Well… the sunsets over now,” Mumbo observes slowly, shivering a little himself. 

“5 more minutes?” he mumbles, content with the odd cuddle the pair were sharing, having decided the cold was worth it for these fleeting moments. 

Mumbo simply laughs to himself, his voice breathy and his hand tracing patterns on Scar’s leg that fuelled the fire throughout his body. 

The pair sat in silence, Scar closing his eyes and savouring each touch, forcing the deep breaths of Mumbo, and the soft rise and fall of his chest, into his memory. 

The hand on his leg is removed and Scar resists pulling it back, longing for the warmth. It’s instead swiftly raised to his head, careful long fingers running through his hair, straightening messy strands and brushing out knots. 

Scar’s only response is the building beat of his heart, thumping in his chest at a speed that almost hurt. 

“Cmon Scar, let’s go,” Mumbo hums, ruffling his hair before softly pushing him away and standing up, stretching a little. He looks down at him, his features melting with the night sky but still so frustratingly beautiful. 

Mumbo reaches out a hand and Scar takes it without hesitation; his fingertips were rough and likely stained with redstone, bits of sand clinging to his anxiously sweaty palms with an insane resolve. He pulls Scar up, holding his shoulders and hugging him, close. 

Scar can feel Mumbo’s heartbeat – or maybe it’s their rhythmic pulsing merging together – as he presses into his neck, every part of their bodies touched and he felt so, so warm. 

Smiling against Mumbo’s skin, his arms shift to rest on the slightly taller man’s back, Mumbo’s laying on his waist. 

Scar opens his mouth, stopping himself as three words fight against his lips, fearful of what they could cause, or what they could do and – though mentally battling with his own mind – he decides to savour their awkwardly long hug.

Mumbo yawns and pulls away from him, Scar letting his hands linger on his shoulders before dropping his arms. 

“Bedtime?” Scar teases, suppressing a yawn himself.

“Y-yeah…,” he mumbles, equipping an elytra from his inventory.

“Night then Mumbo,” Scar says softly, fitting his own before leaning up and ruffling his hair as payback for earlier. He smiles – even though he knew Mumbo couldn’t see him –, pivots and takes off towards the stars. 

His nose grows cold, the warmth of Mumbo fading against the cool night air. 

-ˏˋ ☆ [ We are lost in every direction ] ☆ ˎˊ-

Scar finds himself in the middle of nowhere, having flown off to find a new desert – the one near him being well and truly depleted.

He never took the coordinates of home and had – of which he can admit, stupidly – forgotten his ender chest. 

Onto his last stack of rockets, he was flying south in hopes he would come across any sign of the hermits. At least, he thinks he flew north in the first place.

Scar’s mind was still jumbled following his night on the beach with Mumbo. Unable to sleep, he was left to think – and frankly overthink – every touch, every word and every smile. 

Mumbo hadn’t been over since, and he hadn’t caught sight of the man through his telescope, slightly worried by his absence but not enough to justify a search mission. He often disappeared for long lengths of time anyways. 

Scar sighed, this wasn’t the time to be thinking about Mumbo. He was lost – very, very lost. 

His rocket count hit 8 and he decided to land in the soft leaves of a tree in the nearby jungle. Sitting down, he taps his fingers. Maybe someone can come help me?

Online: Goodtimewithscar, impulseSV

“Impulse!” he exclaims aloud as if the goat could hear him, frantically typing a message out in chat: 

<Goodtimewithscar> Impulse! Could you help me? 

<Goodtimewithscar> I’m lost in a land far, far away

He’s met with radio silence. Staring at the empty chat, he checks the tab list again, this time noticing the grey shade of Impulse’s name. Sighing, he realizes he’s AFK. 

Groaning, Scar lies on his back and letting leaves get stuck in his messy braid – not particularly bothered in comparison to his other concerns. The fronds around him are soft and a little soggy, likely still covered in early morning dew, though the sun is quickly drying them out.

It’s also drying Scar out. He pulls a water bottle from his inventory, sitting up and taking a thirsty swig as the sun beams down onto him. 

Seated properly, he looks around and observes the surrounding biomes, hoping to catch a glimpse of a beacon or even a portal.  

Scar can see forever, spinning around swiftly before paying intense attention to each possible direction. The jungle continued north, merging with a birch forest and a plains in the distance. Panning around, he could see a dark forest to the east which slowly turned birch, then oak, and past that he guessed was a meadow – though it was very far away, even the furthest of tall mushrooms were covered in fog. Pivoting south, there was more jungle before it was cut off by sprawling rivers and… 

Oh! There’s a desert. How nice. 

He sighs, tracing his eyes across the vast expanse of sand that stretched south and west, fading into badlands and mesas. 

Scar lies back down, indulging his feline desire to bask in the sunlight. Closing his eyes, he hums to himself softly, listening to the silent world around him excepting the rustling of leaves in the wind and the occasional chirp of parrots deep within the jungle. 

“Sounds like Grian,” he chuckles, trying to find something to think about that isn’t his current predicament, and isn’t a certain sheep. His tail tip twitches here and there, the only giveaway for his current frustration with himself. 

He pauses and stares up at the glowing sun. He takes a deep breath in.  

“Arrgh!” he groans, throwing up his limbs in defeat, his ears forced back and tail thoroughly swishing back and forth. “How could I be so dumb?! No ender chest? I was going to the middle of nowhere?! Scar!” he continues grumbling and rambling, angry and exasperated but also wanting to pass time before someone comes online.

Luckily for Scar, it doesn’t take long, and his fingers thrum softly with a notification just a few minutes later. Tapping them, he sits up and opens the chat. 

impulseSV left the game 

“Come! On!” he growls, growing more irritated by the second. 

Just as he goes to close it, the chat glows yellow once again.

Mumbo joined the game 

That familiar name – though lacking its ‘Jumbo’ – was a sight for sore eyes. 

<Goodtimewithscar> Mumbo!

He types quickly, desperate to catch his attention in case he was only on for a moment. 

<Goodtimewithscar> Mumbo, can you help? I’m really far away. And lost…

It feels awkward to say he got lost because of his own idiocy, but caring about that would never get him home. 

<Mumbo> Hi Scar. Where are you?

The quick offer of help plucked at Scar’s heart strings. 

<Goodtimewithscar> 9890, -6022

He taps out his location, double-checking the coords in the corner of the screen. 

<Goodtimewithscar> I’m out of rockets too.

<Mumbo> On my way!

Scar smiles. Mumbo was coming to help him!

Mumbo… was coming to help him.

His face flushes a little. Mumbo has always been kind and caring, willing to drop everything and anything to help his friends. It’s a big reason as to why he’d become so infatuated with Mumbo in the first place. 

Humming softly, he lies down again. 

He could’ve walked – Scar wasn’t too far away from spawn after all –, but his legs were achy, and he didn’t particularly want to start that trek. He’d much rather a heroic moustached sheep come to save him. 

Plus, in the meantime, he could soak up the sunlight which was so warm against his skin, his ears flicking forward with relaxation and his tail resting gently on his stomach. 

His fingers twitched and he blinked sleepily, yawning and arching his back. Squinting up at the sun, Scar sits up and looks around, confusion clouding his thoughts. 

Oh. That’s right. He was on a tree, utterly lost. He’d only meant to close his eyes for a second, but his tired body must have caught up to him. 

His fingertips thrummed again, and Scar tapped them together. 

<Mumbo> Scar?

The message hovered in front of him before fading away. He opens the chat properly, reading the previous messages from Mumbo that he’d missed – thankfully not by long.

<Mumbo> I’m in a jungle, are you here?

<Mumbo> Are you on the ground?

<Mumbo> Scaaaar, I can’t see you :(

<Goodtimewithscar> Sorry, I’m on the really big tree!

He quickly responds, embarrassed of his nap and feeling guilty that he hadn’t replied to Mumbo as soon as possible. 

Scar waits a few moments, then a few more moments. Mumbo hasn’t said anything. Is he-

A figure crashes into him, landing smack bang on top of him in a tangled mess. 

“Veloci-tay much?” Scar half-gasps, half-laughs, the air knocked from his lungs. 

“Sorry!” Mumbo laughs, rolling off him. He offers a familiar hand and pulls Scar up, “You alright?”

“Yeah, just a little squished,” he smiles as Mumbo holds out some rockets to him. “Thanks, dude. You’re a lifesaver.”

“No worries,” he grins back, a smile spreading across his face “Now… which way’s home?”

Scar elbows him but follows his lead when Mumbo glides from the tree, the pair flying close to one another and constantly looking back to check whether the other was keeping up. 

Once they got home, Mumbo waved his goodbyes and flew back to his own base. 

-ˏˋ ☆ [ Heaven sent is the way you say you’re proud of me ] ☆ ˎˊ-

Scar slumped onto the couch, yawning. Jellie quickly hopped up into his lap, circling around with sharp claws and radiating purrs. 

He glances out the window where two sprawling redwood trees stood tall against the setting sun, finally built and completing the forest’s skyline. They had taken him forever, alongside the terraforming at their roots which required high levels of detail, and so much attention. 

Yawning again, he scratches Jellie’s chin, smiling down at her sleepily. 

Sometimes he felt he made little to no progress on his base, and that maybe this world should’ve ended by now and his ideas were the only thing keeping it going. 

“Hey Scar,” a voice whispers, having entered the caboose without him noticing, startling him from his thoughts and sleepy daze. 

“Ah! Hi Mumbo,” he sits up against the cushions, to Jellie’s annoyance, which shined from her matching green eyes as she glares up at him. “Sorry darlin’,” he murmurs, running his hands through her fur. 

He looks up at Mumbo who was standing awkwardly behind one of the couches, fiddling with his hands. The suit he wore had a few leaves stuck in it that quickly caught Scar’s eye, only to realise he was now staring at the man’s chest and looking away. 

Mumbo had traced his gaze and picked off the leaf litter, shoving it into his pocket to presumably throw away later. 

“You all good?” Scar asks politely after a few moments of silence, shuffling his legs around to make more space for Jellie on his lap. 

“Oh! Uh, yeah… are you feeling okay?” Mumbo stumbles over his words. “I mean, after you got lost and stuff! You seemed tired… and you’ve been doing stuff all day- what if you’ve hurt yourself? Or you’re sick! I’m sure being out in the sun after getting burned isn’t good-,“ he pauses to stop his rambling and instead wait for an answer. 

When they got back from the jungle, Mumbo had been worried that Scar spent so long in the sun, offering to help treat the red burns that began to appear on his skin. Though almost convinced by Mumbo’s caring words, Scar had insisted he was fine and that he had some aloe vera that’d soothe the marks. 

The morning after, the burns were gone but their dull throb had been replaced by a raging headache, and he’d felt immensely dizzy, forced to stay in bed until late afternoon. 

Even when Mumbo came to check on him, Scar had decided not to tell him – trying to avoid worrying the anxious sheep. 

Now – a day later –, Mumbo must’ve seen him building and was clearly worried despite not knowing the depth of Scar’s symptoms. 

At Mumbo’s question, Scar began to feel dizzy again, his eyes blurring slightly and straining to focus on the tall man before him. 

“Yeah, I’m… alright,” he sighs, bringing a hand to rub his temples as if it would help sooth his aching head that had stubbornly refused to go away, despite pain medication and his best efforts to rest. “Just a little headache,” he smiles with the most convincing grin he could manage. 

“Hm… okay,” Mumbo replies, not particularly reassured but willing to accept the response. “Can I sit?” he asks, tipping his head towards the empty spot beside Scar. 

Scar nods, and he wanders over, the cushions sinking beneath his added weight. Mumbo reaches out a hand and scratches behind Jellie’s ears, letting out a light chuckle when she licks his finger. 

The pair sit in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, both rather content with the lack of conversation, the room filled instead by Jellie’s purrs and the faint rattling of blinds against a windowsill. 

“I’m proud of you,” Mumbo whispers, suddenly, without as much warning as a slightly deeper inhale. His eyes don’t move from Jellie when Scar turns to him, his emerald eyes bearing into him with a mixed array of emotions. Confusion, anticipation, longing and most of all, shock.  

“For what?” he asks, a little too much confusion in his question. Did his friend need a reason to be proud of him? To Scar he does. 

“Um, I- like, everything!” Mumbo stammers, as if his initial statement wasn’t meant to be said aloud. “Scar you are so talented, everything you make is- it’s amazing! Even now, you’re obviously sick, and yet you’ve built two giant trees, to go with your giant forest, in your giant base! You’re a madman Scar.”

The way Mumbo said his name melted Scar’s heart; his voice drowning in affection and admiration. 

“I don’t know Mumbo… I’ve barely made any progress on this project, and I take forever to do anything,” Scar argues, sighing. “Everyone else has done so much more.”

“No progress?” Mumbo exclaims, flailing his hands around for dramatic emphasis, “Taking forever? Scar! Have you seen your base? Two trees popped up overnight!”

He glances over at him for the first time, meeting his eye with gentle confusion. 

Scar knew that his progress recently was far from slow – not many hermits can build a forest in a couple of weeks –, and neither of them believed that he was ‘taking forever’.

“Why do you feel like you aren’t making enough progress?” Mumbo asks softly, continuing when Scar doesn’t respond. “You build so much, and you probably have one of the biggest bases in the world. It’s going to take a while, you know that, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t done anything…,” he pauses, giving Scar another opportunity to speak – of which he takes.  

“It’s just… I spend so much time doing nothing, just sitting about cause…,” he trails off, hesitating, knowing this topic was not a great choice when he was feeling so oddly emotional. “Stupid body,” he grumbles anyways, looking away from Mumbo, his eyes tightening with tears that threatened to escape. 

It drove him crazy. 

Days where he was unable to do anything, his body sore, muscles he didn’t even know existed aching and painful, and yet his mind would never cease to create new ideas. Plans for builds, activities with other hermits, games to play. 

He had things he wanted to do. 

Things he couldn’t do. 

And he only couldn’t do them because of something he had no role in, no choice for, no ability to stop or change. 

“Your legs are nothing you can help, Scar,” Mumbo soothes, “Who cares what every other hermit is doing? You’ve done so much on your train and the zoo, and if anything, I say it’s impressive how much you have done, considering you have to spend some time here and there resting. Plus, if you want to compare progress with other hermits, where was Grian at just a few months ago?” His voice is teasing, the minor insult towards their friend knowingly light and nothing to take offense too. 

Scar allows himself to let out a half-hearted laugh, sniffling as his nose begins to run. 

It’s not like he hasn’t heard these words before, over and over – ‘It’s not your fault’, ‘Don’t blame things you can’t control’ –, it’s just that, for some reason, when they came from Mumbo, he felt like he had a reason to listen.  

Mumbo shifted closer, wrapping a comforting arm around Scar’s shoulder. 

Scar couldn’t help but lean into him. He’ll listen to Mumbo. 

“Every hermit would agree that you are a man chock-full of talent,” he says confidently like he’s asked all the other members before, despite him definitely not being online enough for that. 

Scar doesn’t have the energy to protest, just rumbling deep noises in objection from his throat. 

To this, Mumbo moves about, pulling Scar closer and placing a hand on his head with hesitation. Without any sounds of disagreement, he gently runs his hand through his hair, pulling loose sections into place with careful precision. 

The gesture is something that will be permanently engraved into Scar’s mind, if not the entire scene. These moments were precious and did nothing to help Scar fight the three words that hung from his tongue, words that could ruin this situation, potentially ruin everything. 

“Regardless of what you think,” Mumbo interrupts his thoughts, resting his head against Scar’s. “I’m still proud of you.”

-ˏˋ ☆ [ I’m unconditionally loved ] ☆ ˎˊ-

Scar was tired, his head throbbing painfully with what was probably heat exhaustion and annoyingly mixed with whatever emotions ran through his head. 

Scar was shaking, patting Jellie a little harsher than he normally would in a pathetic attempt to remain calm. 

Scar was crying, tears running down his face, falling and painting splotches on the blanket in his lap. He could taste the salt against his lips. 

And not only was Scar crying, but he was crying into someone. 

It was comforting, supportive, caring, understanding, reassuring, friendly – any synonym he could pull out of the dictionary, this embrace was that. 

Above all, it was filled with unconditional love. 

Mumbo had all the reasons not to care. It could be Scar’s sickly state; the clock ticking away later and later into the evening; not wanting to dirty his suit; Jellie’s fur clearly scratching his sensitive nose, evidenced by occasional sniffles. It could be anything.

And yet, he has not moved. 

This only fuelled the pain in Scar’s chest. The only thing keeping his mouth clamped shut being the reality where Mumbo leaves when he asks. 

Scar would rather live forever in this moment curled up next to Mumbo, his face pressed comfortably into his shoulder with Jellie lounging in his lap, one eye open and watching – just to make sure he was okay. A smile breaks across his face, amplifying the sobbing.  

A hand reaches to his cheek, brushing a finger beneath his eyes to – unsuccessfully – wipe away his tears. Gentle fingers caress his jaw, tilting his head upwards ever so slightly and so, so carefully. He opens his eyes, meeting Mumbo’s whose pupils were round, his gaze radiating overwhelming amounts of affection. 

Mumbo blinks, then his eyes flutter shut, his teeth poke from his lips, his moustache angles sideways, and he smiles.

He smiles the sweetest smile. 

-ˏˋ ☆ [ Maybe I could be your first kiss ] ☆ ˎˊ-

Scar blinks sleepily, the soft breathing of Jellie on his lap was repetitive and soothing. And the soft breathing of Mumbo beside him was even better. 

Wait. Mumbo?

He pushes away instantly. Not because he didn’t like their closeness – cause he sure as hell did – but rather purely out of shock. 

Mumbo’s head, which had been resting on his, fell suddenly and he woke up, startled.  

“Scar?” he mumbles, raising a hand to his neck and pressing on it as if it was sore. “You okay?”

He blinks quickly, trying to wake himself up in case Scar needed his help. His other hand cups Scar’s cheek gently, moving his face around looking for something wrong, or maybe tears again. 

Right. He cried. In front of Mumbo. 

“Arrgh,” Scar groans, pulling his hands dramatically down his face and leaning forward to press his nose into Jellie’s flank. 

Mumbo traced comforting circles on his back, Scar realizing he didn’t even answer his question. 

“Sorry, I’m okay,” he mumbles, taking in the situation a little. 

The pair were still sat together on the couch, though a lamp had been turned on and radiated a soft orange glow in the otherwise dark room. Scar was covered in another blanket that usually stayed on his bed, tucked in on one side with the other resting over Mumbo’s lap.   

Despite their frantic awakening, their legs still touched, and Mumbo’s hand still rested on Scar’s back. They were still close. 

He glanced behind them and out the window, a dull white glow the only light indicating that it was most definitely later into the night.

“Hrm… what time is it?” Scar questions, tapping Mumbo’s hand on his shoulder which he knew was home to a redstone watch. 

“Oh! Uhh…,” he blinks then pulls his arm away to examine his wrist. “It’s 9pm.”

“Nine?!” Scar exclaims, “It’s way past dinner Mumbo!”

Mumbo just blinked at him again. 

“Can’t we just… make something?” he asks quietly, tilting his head to the side with a confused expression. 

“You wanna have dinner? Here?” Scar says aloud, not bothering to hide his own confusion. “I thought you would’ve gone home. Aren’t you hungry?”

“A little,” Mumbo mutters, a grumble in his stomach giving him away. “That doesn’t matter though. I didn’t want to leave you.”

“Awwgh,” Scar smiles, leaning into Mumbo for a quick hug, his heart beating faster at the comment. “You are very cute,” he starts, his teasing compliment leaving red to creep across Mumbo’s cheeks, “…buuut. You should not starve for me silly!”

“Well, you haven’t eaten either Scar,” Mumbo retorts, smiling back. “And it wasn’t… just for you,” he whispers. 

Scar ignored the comment, his mind entirely out of it. 

Combined with the way Mumbo’s hand was making its way back to Scar’s hair, his soft, sleepy voice, the gentle press of his body and his pretty face, Scar felt like he was going to explode. 

He’s had a crush on Mumbo for a long time, a really long time. 

He’d always thought he was cute, his face so expressive and cheeks so easily flushed at the slightest compliment. Scar loved to fake-flirt with him, as friends do, watching his hands flap about to try and change the conversation when Scar called him pet names or commented on his looks.   

He’d fallen for Mumbo because he was so kind, this fact never changing. 

Even now, Mumbo had stayed with him. He’d let him cry, he’d let him fall asleep on him and he’d looked after him. Now, he wanted to stay for dinner, no, no. He wanted to make dinner together, and it was so frustratingly domestic. 

The words climbed back up his throat and hovered at the tip of his tongue as he lovingly stared into Mumbo’s eyes. He gazed back, the smile unwavering on his lips. It dragged Scar’s eyes right to them, rough from anxious biting but they appeared soft, nonetheless. His lips twisted slowly into a cheeky grin, forcing Scar to look back at Mumbo. 

His stomach twisted with panic. 

Mumbo had followed his eyes and was now looking at him teasingly. Scar was prepared for him to make fun of him, or even get up and leave. The thought stabbed his heart, and he squeezed his eyes tight, squinting out of one when a few quiet moments had passed. 

Both stayed silent, Mumbo’s eyes locked with Scar’s. They turned softer, shifting back into the familiar affectionate expression of the night – as if he realized this wasn’t some odd Scar-flirt. 

Without words, Mumbo shifts a little closer, rotating his body to face Scar properly which promptly sent a shiver down his spine. Mumbo reaches out and cups the side of his cheek, running his thumb along one of the many scars on his face.  

Scar leans into it, his eyes fluttering a little before copying the same movements: shifting sideways and raising his hand to rest on Mumbo’s cheek. His skin was soft and warm, his face flushed as they stare into one another’s eyes. 

Jellie meowed angrily at the sudden motions and flew from Scar’s lap, humouring the tense situation. Scar watches her pad away with a laugh before turning back to Mumbo who shares a similar chuckle. 

They go quiet again, words seemingly too risky to say. 

Mumbo opens his mouth, his moustache tickling against Scar’s fingers. The whisper that follows is deafening in the hushed room. 

“Hey Scar?”

Scar only nods, his throat tight with anxiety, anticipating his next words. 

“Can I…,” Mumbo hesitates, losing himself in Scar’s eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

The silence that follows is so incredibly loud. 

Scar pauses, a small gasp escaping his mouth. He breathes in and out, in and out, filled with panic… is he even breathing? He can’t tell. His body feels like it gave up, overwhelmed by emotions he can’t put a name too. 

One moment goes by.

Then another. 

The tension and anticipation coursing through both their blood borderlines being painful, until Scar gives a singular nod, never breaking eye contact, never looking away. 

In what feels like the same breath – of which Scar is still unsure he’s even doing – Mumbo leans closer, his exhale warm against Scar’s lips. 

They kiss. Soft, playful, delicate. 

Just as he thought, Mumbo’s lips were rough and soft, careful and gentle against his own. 

Scar’s heart was going to break through his ribs, beating so, so fast. 

His tail tip flicks happily, tapping against Mumbo’s leg with soft repetitive thumps. 

It lasts too long, and yet not long enough. The pressure recedes from his lips and Scar does all he can not to chase it. 

They stare, both taking deep breaths in, hands exploring and resting on thighs, on hips, in hair. One hand remains attached to each other’s cheeks, both as red as a certain bird’s sweater, three words caught on their tongues. 

-ˏˋ ☆ [ Over again, it might take some time ] ☆ ˎˊ-

“Can we… have a first kiss again?” Scar asks quietly, his confidence picking up. Maybe Mumbo was interested after all. 

“Wha- we just… we just did that!” Mumbo stammers, blinking quickly and trying to look at anything else in the room – which was a bit difficult when Scar took up most of his vision. 

“I know but, again! Again and again,” he coos, running his hand up Mumbo’s jaw and tracing his ear. “You’re good at this Mumby, best first kiss ever,” he teases, resting his head against Mumbo’s chest. He can feel his racing heartbeat through the suit, sparking a smile across his face. 

“Best? Ever?” he splutters, and Scar leans back, tilting his head at Mumbo’s confused stammering. He watches the cogs turn in his brain. “You’ve kissed someone before?!” he exclaims, the loudest either have spoken in a while.

“Of course I have! Have you met me?” Scar chuckles, his own cogs turning for a second. “Does that mean you haven’t?”

Mumbo doesn’t respond, instead he looks away shyly and fidgets with his hands. 

“Mumbo!” Scar squeaks, “Why didn’t you tell me this is your first-first kiss?!”

“I don’t know!” he babbles, hesitating before quietly mumbling, “I thought it was yours too.”

“Ohh, darling,” Scar sighs, thumping a gentle fist against Mumbo’s chest. He leans forward, pressing an affectionate kiss to his cheek. “You’re adorable.”

Before he can sit up straight again, Mumbo yanks his face back and smushes their lips together. It was messier than their first, but it makes Scar giddy regardless and he kisses back. 

“Okay, okay,” he says over Mumbo’s pressing lips, pulling away from him. “Let’s go make some dinner, yeah?”

Mumbo nods, the smile never leaving his face even as he stands up, awkwardly offering a hand to Scar who quickly takes it. 

Together, they make something to eat – whether it could be classified as ‘dinner’ or not is up to interpretation. Scar was in charge of cooking, Mumbo told to cut vegetables. Although, he was quickly banned, cutting the edge of his finger on the first carrot. 

Scar kissed the cut before putting a cute kitty band aid on it and pressing another kiss onto Mumbo’s cheek. 

Unable to help, Mumbo took it to himself to get in Scar’s way as much as possible: hugging him from behind, kissing his neck, ruffling his hair. 

Eventually, an odd concoction of soup and noodles and vegetables sat before them. Though it wasn’t great, neither really cared about the food. 

They shared simple conversations, about their days and what they wanted to do tomorrow. Never truly mentioning the fact that they’d kissed, nor what this meant – if anything. 

With dinner done – and Mumbo having washed their dishes –, Scar loudly yawned and rested his head on the bench where he’d been watching. 

“Tired?” Mumbo teased, running a hand through his hair from across the counter. When Scar nodded, Mumbo shyly smiled and tilted his head in the direction of Scar’s bedroom. 

“Hm?” Scar tilted his own in response, thinking for a second. “Oh! You wanna stay the night?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Mumbo replied awkwardly.

Standing up, they met at the end of the bench, Mumbo quickly interlocking their fingers and pulling Scar towards his own room. 

He offered Mumbo some clothes, the latter opting to only borrow some trackies with both preferring to sleep without shirts. They brush their teeth together as Mumbo already had his own toothbrush here – just in case –, and Scar gets changed.

Comfortable in his pajamas, he wanders back into the bedroom where Mumbo is already lying on his bed, fiddling with his watch mindlessly. 

“Cute,” Scar whispers, Mumbo’s gaze sharpening and looking over at him. 

“It’s getting cold, hurry up Scar,” he grumbles playfully, tucking himself under the doona and various blankets. 

Turning the main lantern off and shutting the door – though he leaves it cracked for Jellie –, Scar climbs into bed next to his…friend? Mumbo instantly pulls him into a tight hug.

“I can’t breathe Mumbo!” Scar giggles, pushing away from him a little. 

“Sorry,” he hums in response, burying his face in Scar’s chest. 

Scar runs his hand through his hair, the pair cuddling as close as possible. 

“Night Mumbo,” he yawns, tired despite their earlier nap. Then he pauses, “Oh yeah!”

“Hm?” Mumbo looks up at him, his eyes wide in the darkness.  

“Did we fall asleep earlier?” he asks curiously. His mind was foggy, and he was only assuming that they slept.   

“Well, I-,” Mumbo props himself up on his elbows, leaning over Scar just a little. “I didn’t want to leave you, but you fell asleep in… my arms. So, I got a blanket and turned the lights off for you and stuff…,” he mumbles, adorably embarrassed. 

“You are so sweet!” Scar exclaims, pulling him into another hug. When they break apart, he leans up and presses a kiss to his lips. “Night for real now,” he hums, snuggling into Mumbo. 

“Night Scar,” he whispers back, his moustache tickling Scar’s forehead with a kiss.

-ˏˋ ☆ [ Heaven sent is a coffee cup, if I’m drinking it with you ] ☆ ˎˊ-

Scar awoke to the sound of the kettle and sunlight streaming through cracked blinds right onto his face. At first, he panicked a little at the thought of someone in his house, then quickly remembered yesterday’s proceedings. 

As if on cue, Mumbo peeked his head around the door, his face smiling when he meets Scar’s eye. 

“Morning!” he grins, walking towards him. 

“Good morning,” Scar smiles back, shifting about in order to get out of bed. 

“No, no,” Mumbo stammers when he reaches him, pushing back on Scar’s chest with an uncharacteristically confident hand. “Stay here.”

He quickly leaves the room again, and Scar lets out a chuckle when he comes back in with two mugs, balancing them carefully with his tongue sticking out. 

“Could you hold these,” he asks, waiting for Scar to sit up comfortably against the headboard before handing him the drinks. 

Mumbo climbs back into bed, snuggling up beside him and taking one of the mugs.

“I made you coffee,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to Scar’s cheek. Mumbo was oddly affectionate; their kiss had seemingly brought his hidden confidence out. “And a tea for myself.”

“Of course,” Scar smirks, sipping his coffee, though it’s a bit too hot. He glances at Mumbo instead. 

His friend – or whatever they were at the moment – had his eyes closed, taking slow sips of his own drink and smiling happily with a joy Scar’s never seen before, unless the sheep was talking about bouldering. 

“Mumbo?” 

“Hm?” he turns to face him with a loving hum. 

“I love you.”

Mumbo pauses, his eyes growing wide, a little shocked. He blinks once, then twice. 

“I love you too,” he replies, his voice steady with no hesitation. 

“Really?”

“Really,” Mumbo whispers, blushing and looking away. 

“Wow… well, I’ve loved you for ages Mumby!” he coos. “Though, I can’t really remember across worlds…,” Scar starts. 

“Worlds? Multiple worlds?” he gasps, looking back into Scar’s eyes. 

“Mhm.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Scar laughs, meeting his surprised lips with a kiss. “I really like you Mumbo.”

“I… really like you too.”

They gaze into each other’s eyes for a moment before they both start giggling. 

“Really doesn’t even sound like a word anymore!” he exclaims, ruffling Mumbo’s hair with his free hand.

“No, no it doesn’t,” he chuckles, leaning into the touch. 

“I really love you Mumbo.”

“I really love you too Scar.”

Leaning against one another, their faces flushed, and spare hands intertwined; neither wanted anything more. 

Scar drinks a bit of his coffee – finally cool enough not to burn – and sighs with relief. 

The words no longer tickled the back of his throat, and his love no longer ached unattended in his heart. 

He closes his eyes, wrapping his tail around Mumbo’s arm and taking another sip – this is how he wanted to be. Forever and ever.