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Grian hummed as he pulled the toast out of the toaster and plated it. He pulled honey out of the cabinet, listening to the sounds of the door creaking. He has to get that fixed soon. He placed the honey on the table and pulled out the butter knife. Opening the jar, he scoops out honey and slathers it lightly on the toast. Distantly, he can hear a door opening and footsteps padding across the floor.
Two warm, scarred arms wrap around his waist delicately, and pull him backwards until he’s pressed against a warm chest. A head rests between his jaw and the collar of his borrowed shirt, lips pressed to his neck, just staying there. He gently prods Scar’s face out from his neck and presents the toast to him, gently pressing it against his lips. Scar took a bite of the toast before re-entering his hiding place in Grian’s neck, burrowing deeper and deeper like some sort of mole. Grian snorts at the thought.
Grian can feel Scar chewing against his neck, and smiles. He pulls another piece of bread from the bag, and puts it into the toaster. He hums a song he remembered from a while ago, when they went out to karaoke with Cleo and BDubs, Scar’s half-siblings. Some sort of song about heartbreak and boys. Scar mumbles something about getting up too early, and Grian presses a kiss against the side of Scar’s head as a semblance of an apology.
lips settle against a small expanse of his neck, before trailing farther, planting kisses against Grian’s akin as of he were planting stars in the night sky. Grian sighed, a small, content thing, before tilting his head farther to the side to grant better access.
When his toast pops back out of the toaster, he places it on the same plate as Scar’s, prodding his face away again to grab the jam from the fridge. Scar didn’t budge and instead held on tighter. “Scar, I need to get the jam,” he whispered, to the half-asleep Scar hiding against his skin.
Scar groans in his dramatic Scar fashion, and moves away from Grian with a crease in his brow and a pout on his lips. Grian turns around and leans up to press a kiss afain a small cut healing against Scar’s eyebrow, before turning to get the jam from the fridge. He slathers the jam against his slice of toast. Whatever flavour it was, it was sweet and pink and looked like it belonged in a Pinterest photo. The jar the jam came with had somehow lost it’s label, Void knows how, so Grian’s best guess was strawberry.
After he finished with his toast, he handed the plate to Scar to take to the living room while he cleaned the kitchen. Scar gave him a two fingers salute and a dopey grin before he was off. Grian wiped his glasses off on his (Scar’s) shirt before he began cleaning.
When Grian finished with cleaning the kitchen, he found Scar on the floor with Jellie, their baby kitty, cooing and playing with her. Fidgeting with his ring, he smiled fondly as he watched Scar coo like Jellie was the most importantly cat in the world. To Scar, she was. He took a moment to remember the scene, as well as a photo to store the memory, before coming up to Jellie and petting her as well. Scar followed Grian as he stood up, carefully placing Jellie on the floor again.
Grian sat on the couch, eloquent as always, with Scar flopping over him and laying his head on Grian’s lap. He groaned in pain after stubbing his toe, and sent a playful glare towards Grian for giggling at him. “You, alright, buddy?” Grian says, amusement twinkling in his eyes. Scar snorts. “‘Buddy,’ he says, after being engaged for three years and married for a week.” Grian laughed at Scar’s words, not noticing the sudden edge of mischief in his sharp smirk.
“And waking his husband up with the best blowjob a man could ask for—“ Grian swatted at him, cheeks pink and eyebrows furrowed. Grian’s hands found their way to Scar’s head and weakly began brushing through his hair. The calm ministrations causing Scar’s eyes to shut momentarily. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Grian staring down at him with a soft form of amusement. “Hey, handsome,” Grian said, still combing through his hair.
Scar pressed his face farther into Grian, molding them into a single entity. His ear against Grian’s bare thigh, his smile again Grian’s covered stomach. “Hey, light of my life.” It comes out small and muffled with Scar’s mouth pressed against Grian’s shirt, but it was still enough to soften Grian’s features even more, melting him into a puddle of love. Scar turned his head and pressed a small kiss against his thigh, before returning to the warmth of Grian’s stomach again, and shutting his eyes as Grian continued to comb through his hair.
Grian grabbed his toast and leaned back on the couch, looking through the window in their living living room to see the sun rising. Right now, nothing more could be perfect for Grian.
This is what he lived for.