Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Grian was almost never nervous about anything–well, almost. It was his first time being on a ride at the new theme park, which had steady streams of people walking in at every given moment, Scarland, so he didn’t know what to expect!

The shade of the palm trees enveloped him, Joel and Lizzie, with the massive volcano towering over them. He wondered how much the price tag would be. The intricate details – even with his glasses on, he couldn’t see any of the ridges on the ride. Perhaps he would go up there in secret when the rest of the group all went to the bathrooms, ensuring to shift his wings as slowly as he could to make little noise. It wasn’t like he didn’t fit into the surroundings of the themed area, lush green, with fake elephants whose leathery skin looked so real, even focusing on the imperfections of the animal. the slightly crooked tusk and the wonkiness of the large ears, and he nearly missed the Jellie mascot stamp engraved into their black, beady, glass eyes.

It was like an avian Motherland, the jungle stretching for miles even in the theme parks. It was quite accurate, missing some details, but not everything can be perfect, right?

“Grian, stop daydreaming; we’re nearly at the front of the line!” Joel’s shouting made his wings twitch out, nearly hitting a kid next to him; he muttered a string of apologies to the mother under his breath slightly.

He sauntered over the next few paces to the entrance to the ride, a crack in the volcano, the edges seemingly burnt from the crisp black.

“Ok, ok, I’m here; don’t worry too much about little old me,” he said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Joel and Lizzie were annoyed as they turned around, but he could sense their amusement as Joel’s lip quirked up and Lizzie covered her temple. It was just the three of them going on this ride; Bdubs and Etho left to try some Scarland-themed snacks. He snickered at the thought of Bdubs’ impossibly enormous eyes squeezed shut, clinging onto Ethos’ hand, while going on a thrilling rollercoaster, like this one.

Lizzie looked back at the ride with a jerk of her head; she could still see how Joel looked at her, an eyebrow raised slightly while looking where she looked. Confused but willing to go through with anything for her, it was then that Grian noticed the slightly worried look in the couple’s eyes.

“Oh shit, Grian.” Lizzie quietly cursed, shrinking under the stare of the mother of the kid who Grian had hit with his wings earlier.

“What? Is the ride closed or something?” Grian said, cocking his head to the side. Grian had waited in line for about an hour and had to put up with being the third wheel of Joel and Lizzie’s coupleness. He groaned mentally at the hours lost—if the ride was closed for any reason.

“No, it’s – it’s two people per row.” She responded, hands clasped together nervously.

“I assume you two are going to sit next to each other, as you are da—I mean, er, married.” He stated he didn’t mean to make the slip-up, as this was most likely the first vacation after their honeymoon around 6 or 7 months ago.

“Yeah, sorry Grian, I hate to make you have to sit next to a random guy,” Joel says remorsefully. His lips pressed into a thin line.

“Who says I’m sorry?” Lizzie jokes playfully, “Well, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.” As she scratched her head shamefully.

Grian wouldn’t mind that he had to sit next to someone on a ride, but it was the fact it was his first ride that was just a bit intimidating. He hoped he got someone who minded their own damn business.

“How many have we got here? “Three?” The employee asked with a very forced cheerful tone, with a ridiculous grin that showed way too many teeth. “Two on line one, one on line two. Have a jellitastic time!” Grian was almost fully sure that ‘jellitastic’ wasn’t an actual word.

He made his way over to the gate queue labelled two, waiting for the gates to open automatically when it was time to get on the ride. Looking over at the couple who had parted ways with him earlier. Joel was basically climbing onto the barrier between them and the track, perhaps trying to get a look at when the next cart would arrive – or, what Grian preferred to think, he was waiting for Lizzie or a staff member to tell him off. Joel loved causing slight inconveniences to people’s days.

As Grian waited for that to happen. He turned his head to the side, looking at the single rider queue. An employee was directing a tall man with dark brown hair to his lane. He slid out of the single rider lane, one hand tucked in the pocket of his shorts. The man walked with a rhythm, the kind of walk that made it look like he owned every step.

As the taller man came into view, Grian couldn’t help but stare more; his brown hair was flattened and slightly damp. Presumably from the Indiana Jones-esque hat held in the hands that were now fiddling with the hat. He had a long, thick scar running from his strong jawline up to just above his eyebrows. His eyes were a striking emerald, the kind of eyes Grian would remember for the whole trip.

Realising he had been staring at the man for longer than one can consider normal, Grian reluctantly pulled his eyes away from the man that was a lot closer than he had been a few seconds ago. He moved back into his previous position of staring at Lizzie and Joel; it seemed that Lizzie had pulled Joel down from the railing, and they were now talking about the ride and the theming of the queue. They must’ve noticed Grian looking at them as they turned to him and gave him an over-the-top wave.

“Grian, this queue is taking way too blummin’ long; I can’t wait in this heat anymore!” Joel exclaimed dramatically as he put the back of his hand on his forehead and leant back on the railing.

“Well, maybe if you took off your leather jacket, you would cool down.” Grian said with an indifferent tone.

“Hey, it makes me look cool! Right, Lizzie?” Joel then started to question his wife about his coolness. Lizzie just sighed and held her head with her hand. Really, Grian didn’t know how Lizzie put up with Joel; he could be so annoying at times. Joel always-

“Are you with them?” A voice from behind him questioned. Grian whirled around quickly; behind him was the man from the single rider queue. Grian craned his neck up to see him. How long had he been there? Why was he so close to him? Why was he so-? He stared dumbly at the man in front of him, and then he realised that he was just asked a question.

“I—uh, yes, I am? Yes.” Grian fumbled over his words in the haste to answer the question. Oh goodness, he had just made himself look like a fool; he had just deprecated a stranger’s first impression of him.

The man smiled at him. “Third wheel? It’s the worst at theme parks; the uneven number just doesn’t work, y’know?” The smile was warm and inviting on his lips and had maybe a bit of pity for his third wheeling, if only the man knew that he was basically fifth wheeling.

“Well, at least I have the pleasure of your company to be seated next to.” Grian said with a sarcastic tone to deter further unwanted questions. It clearly didn’t work, as the very attractive man’s face lit up and rapidly fired more questions at him. Are your wings real? What kind of hybrid are you? Are you British? What’s your name? Are you enjoying Scarland? It’s your first time here? Your first ride?!                  

He responded with sounds of affirmation, or nods or a shake of his head. Grian thought how nice it would be to catch a flight back to London and go back to his bed and go to sleep in the much colder summer. It wasn’t that his hotel room bed was absolutely terrible; it just wasn’t his own.

Automatically, the gates to the ride opened, and the level of chatter in the room increased. Making his way over to the seat, tucking his wings into his back. Lowering himself into the moulded plastic seat, the cool surface pressing against his back as he pulled the harness down over his shoulders. Looking at the cheerful man next to him and found that as the man tugged the harness down with a giant grin, the man was even kicking and swinging his legs.

“I assume this is not your first time on this ride,” Grian says, looking over at the man next to him. The man turned his head to Grian slowly and then smiled widely, taking his hand eagerly. Grian looked at their intertwined hands and back up to the man with a confused look.

He said, “Scar Goodtimes at your service.” He brought their conjoined hands to his mouth and kissed his hand. Grian felt the tips of his ears and his cheeks turn very warm and flush a bright red and stared with wide eyes at Th- Scar, who was still holding his hand. Since when had they been moving? There were a few cheers as the countdown started.

10, 9, 8, 7

He busied himself with looking at the walls of the ride. They were murals of the mascot of the park, Jellie, the beloved cat in the jungle. One was Jellie napping in a tree; the next was Jellie falling out of that tree.

6, 5, 4,

The lights were flashing red, yellow and orange now as the countdown was ending . There was a voice speaking now, “Prepare yourself for an epic adventure with Jellie!” No, Grian was not excited for this now.

3

Scar was still holding his hand. Was Scar counting down out loud?

2

Grian squeezed Scar’s hand. He may not know Scar, but he was glad he had someone’s hand to hold.

1

Scar squeezed his hand back. No turning back now, Grian.

He felt his stomach drop as they shot forward. He heard Scar cheer. Grian definitely heard Joel and Lizzie scream.

Grian started screaming.

Chapter Text

Grian’s stomach twisted with nerves—half from the drop he knew was coming, half from the warmth of Scar’s fingers laced with his own. At the top, just before the plunge, he realised he wasn’t sure which made his heart race more: the rollercoaster or the fact that Scar was still holding his hand. His hair was swept backwards from the air resistance combined with the speed at which the cart was being taken.

Vibrant colours enveloped his vision, mixing to make a swirling pattern of brown, green and red. He clung to Scar's hand as the cart was thrust upside down.

Grian had screamed and clung to Scar's hand tightly for the entirety of the rollercoaster.

Scar had been whooping and cheering while Grian tightly and firmly closed his eyes.

—————————

The clicking of the tracks ceased as they came to a stop. Grian let out a shaky sigh of relief.

Finally.

Practically ripping the harness off his shoulders, he let go of Scar's hand. He mourned the loss of the larger, reassuring hands interlocked with his, the ones that grounded him just seconds ago. He stumbled out of the cart. Grian unfolded his wings from his back, flapping and stretching them. Scar followed him in suit, but strangely, he hung back a few steps.

Meeting the man’s nervous gaze – that striking shade of emerald made him make a, perhaps, stupid decision.

“Come on, are you coming or not?” Grian raised an eyebrow at him. Scar's eyes widened; Grian just tilted his head towards the exit slightly. Apparently, that was all the convincing Scar needed.

Scar leant over into the cart they had previously been on and picked up his bag, adorned in pins of Jellie, and slung it over one of his broad shoulders. He also picked up his cowboy-safari-style hat and tucked it in the crook of his elbow. The hat pressed against his slightly wrinkled, cream-white button-up t-shirt.

Behind him, Joel and Lizzie were calling for him to hurry up; he shooed them away down the exit path. Joel shook his phone side to side, took Lizzie's arm and then promptly disappeared down the exit path.

By now, Scar had caught up with him, walking with that same easy-paced rhythm, and was smirking down at Grian as they made their way down the corridor—that was air-conditioned, thank god. He leaned against the terracotta wall behind him, painted with doodles of Scarland — Wait, what, Scarland? The theme park name was weird now. It seemed weirdly familiar.

Scar was now giggling to himself. He now had his hat back on, and it was fastened by a clip under his chin.

“What?” Scar continued to make a poor attempt to cover up his chuckles. “No, Scar, seriously, what?”

“It’s not that I don’t like your hair messy, birdie, but it’s maybe a bit too wild to walk around with.” He felt his cheeks flush a deep red at the implication of what that statement meant. And if that wasn’t enough already, Scar brought his hand to Grian’s hair and smoothed it down. Did he hear the click of a camera, or was that his imagination?

Also, ‘birdie’ – Grian has heard that one more times than he can count.

Immediately afterwards, Scar took his hat off his head and placed it on top of Grian's head. Grian stood still in a mix of shock and something else. He knew he had to respond with something equally as flirtatious, but he had nothing.

“Birdie, really? Try to be original, Scar.” Grian retorted as he folded one of his arms across his chest, while the other came to rest on his cheek—that was still blushing furiously but had cooled down.

“Well then, what is your name?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would.” Scar’s voice dipped low.

And, well, he can’t refuse that.

“Grian, my name is Grian.” Scar beamed at that, so brightly it might have blinded him.

Scar took his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Grian.” Scar then brought his hand up and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

Grian is pretty sure that they are both grinning ear to ear when their eyes meet. And they linger.

—————————

“Are you hungry?” He asks Grian. Now that he thinks about it, Grian hasn’t eaten since morning, and it is midday. Thirsty, as he didn’t particularly feel like sipping on lukewarm water.

“Starving, actually.”

“I know the best place; come on!”

Grian promptly gets yanked up by his hand and gets pulled over to walk beside Scar. He readjusts Scar's firm grip on his hand so their fingers are laced together. Ok, sue him. He liked holding Scar’s hand. His hands were large and calloused but still gentle.

He gets led to a bakery that was obviously Jellie-themed. The bakery’s less busy than the others that he’d seen around the park.

The food is mouthwatering. Tarts, doughnuts, sandwiches. Scar goes up to the register and orders.

“Grian,” his name makes him snap his head up. “What are you getting?”

He goes to stand next to Scar and gives his order to the man working at the front desk. The employee tells them to wait for their order and gives them a table number.

“Hey, wait, you’re-“

“Thank you, bye!”

Scar cuts the man off quickly; Grian raises an eyebrow at him. They sit down at a table in the corner; the sun streams in through the windows, dousing the side of his face in the sun's glow.

“This is my favourite place to eat; trust me, you’re going to love it.” Scar beams

“Is there even a single bad place to eat here?” Everything at Scarland is well thought out, without a single detail left untamed.

“Nope! But this one has the best vibe, y’know.”

“You’re starting to sound like a mascot for this singular bakery now.”

“Technically, I am.”

Grian is confused at that one. Scar doesn’t work for the park, but he is also ‘technically’ a mascot? He looks around the room, at the walls, but is met with the hustle of a group walking inside.

He takes a sip of his cold water.

They continue with the easy flow of the conversation. Questions about work, wings and food. Their food arrives. Grian takes a bite out of his sandwich; it’s great, but he isn’t one to overreact about food. He and Scar finish their dessert; they split pastries.

—————————

“How much do I owe you?” He tries and fails to do the maths in his head.

“What?” Scar looks at him incredulously.

“How much—?” He reaches into his bag for his wallet.

“No, you don’t owe me anything,” Scar says while smiling. He leans over to zip Grian's bag shut.

“But—“

“It’s nothing! Seriously!” Grian's not going to accept that. He knows Scar won’t budge, even from the few hours that he’s known him.

“I’m not going anywhere until you accept.”

“Can we at least move to the fireworks spot—it’s just up and around there, and well, this spot doesn’t have the best view of them.” Scar explains.

“Nope! Accept it, or I’m going to leave you all by yourself here.” He says, while obviously reaching for his phone, he’s pretty sure Scar doesn’t actually believe him; he doesn’t believe himself either.

“Fine.” Scar huffs out. Grian smiles at him. “How am I supposed to say no to that face…” He mutters to himself.

Grian pays him back. Scar springs up off the bench and offers out a hand. Grian takes it. He squeezes Scar's hand; Scar squeezes back.

They walk down the main path to the castle, passing the fountains; Jellie balloons floated above children’s heads.

Grian notices a stray HotGuy balloon. He jumps to catch it, but it’s just out of reach. A hand comes to tug the string down, Scar’s hand. They locate the crying child within a 7-metre radius. Scar smiles sweetly as he hands it back to the toddler.

Scar ends up with his knees being hugged very tightly by that child. The mothers pry the child off Scar’s knees.

He nudges Scar’s bicep with his shoulder. “Look at you, hero of the park.”

“Only for you, G.” He takes his hand again, and they walk to the fireworks viewing area. They’re both grinning and blushing so much.

So much so that Grian doesn’t feel his own money being slipped into his back pocket.