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Grian didn’t believe in ghosts. Not really anyways. Not like his friends did. Impulse and Skizz were hard-core believers in the paranormal. Grian isn’t sure he’s met any other person in his life more obsessed with ghosts than those two are. And of course, Impulse had the great idea of starting a ghost-hunting club at their university. Skizz was all for it, obviously. Wherever Impulse went, Skizz was sure to follow.
Gem was a surprise addition to the club. They had all been friends for a while, but Grian never thought of her as the ghost-hunter type at all. She could be rather unhinged at times, but was definitely into more… cozy things. And ghost hunting was anything but cozy. But when questioned, Gem just shrugged and said, “I wanna hear Skizz scream like a little girl more frequently,”
Right. Fair enough.
Grian wasn’t really planning on joining this whole club thing just because, again, he did not really believe in ghosts. He would much rather spend his time actually doing his assignments and studying for class then going to an abandoned house in the middle of the night to fuck around in.
But that was until Scar decided to join. And this definitely complicated things. You see, Grian had this… *thing* with Scar. And by a thing, he means he has a big fat crush on the man. Luckily (or unluckily) for Grian, Scar is the most oblivious person on the planet and has no ideas about his feelings. Scar might actually be the only person who *doesn’t* know about Grian’s feelings for him at this point. It’s not like he is completely subtle about it either. Everyone around him has made it very clear that he is absolutely and catastrophically down bad for this man.
So when Scar approached him after their shared lecture and asked if Grian was going to join Impulse’s new club, who was he to say no to him?
And that’s exactly how Grian has ended up in his current situation. Instead of staying in on a Friday night with a nice cup of tea and his adorable little cat, Grian was stuck in the back of a van with four other idiots heading towards an old, abandoned house.
“Sooooo, what’s the deal with this house we are going to?” Scar asks, who's sitting to the right of Grian. The two of them and Gem are stuck in the back row of the van while Impulse is driving and Skizz is in the passenger seat. Everyone really only trusts Impulse to drive anyways, so it just works better this way.
Skizz twists his body so he is looking back and facing the three of them. “Apparently, it was built in the early 1900s, but has been abandoned for at least 20 years!” Skizz begins to explain, pulling out his phone to, assumingly, look up the house and pull up more of the information. “The owner said that the family that previously lived there kept hearing and seeing some spooky things and eventually it got so bad that they decided to move out! No one has lived there since.”
A very typical story. One that they have heard multiple times in varying differentiations as they’ve been in this club. It’s nothing new to any of them. But as the van makes its final turn onto the driveway and the house becomes visible, Grian suddenly becomes a lot more nervous.
Grian isn’t honestly too sure why he is suddenly so nervous now. The house itself isn’t anything crazy. It obviously looks abandoned. Some of the windows have been boarded up, paneling on the roof is gone, there’s random debris scattered in the surrounding area. It looks just like any other house that they have been to. But something about it was different as well. And Grian just couldn’t put a finger on what it was.
“Spooky old house in the middle of nowhere,” Impulse says, pulling the van to the front of the house and parking it. “Ten out of ten in ambience, zero out of ten in safety codes.”
Skizz claps his hands together, looking far too cheerful for the current setting, “Perfect for tonight’s investigation, then! Let’s start unloading the gear.”
Gem groaned from the back seat. “Or we could, you know, *not* got inside the haunted death shack.”
Grian can’t help but laugh and roll his eyes at her dramatics. “Hey, you signed up for this. What happened to wanting to hear Skizz scream like a little girl?” He asks teasingly.
Gem narrows her eyes at Grian. “That doesn’t mean *I’m* not going to scream like a little girl either.”
Grian laughs and shakes his head before he is suddenly put into panic mode. But not because of the house, despite how it is very much nightmare fuel. But Scar, who had demanded to sit in the middle seat, had now leaned right over Grian to peer out of the window. He was now getting a face full of Scar. Grian’s eyes widened as he looked at Scar, his eyes bright even despite the shadows.
“What do you think, G? Scar asks. “Looks fun, right?”
“Fun. Sure. That’s the word for it.” Grian replied, swallowing hard. He’d only joined this ridiculous ghost-hunting club because Scar asked him if he was going to join. And Grian, hopelessly in love with the man, couldn’t possibly say no. And now here he was, staring at peeling paint and broken windows, wondering how many ways a person could embarrass themselves in front of their crush in one night.
Gem caught Grian’s expression and smirked to herself. She exchanged a quick glance with Impulse and Skizz, who both raised their eyebrows in perfect unison. They didn’t have to say anything. Everyone already knew Grian and Scar were *painfully* into each other. Everyone except Grian and Scar it seemed.
Which was why tonight wasn’t just about ghost hunting.
“Alright,” Impulse said, shouldering a duffle bag full of emf readers, flashlights, and other ghost hunting equipment they might need. “Standard procedure. We’ll split into pairs and check out the place room by room. Scar, you and Grian can take the east side. Gem, Skizz, and I will take the rest.”
Grian’s stomach dropped. *Of course* he got paired with Scar. He opened his mouth to maybe try and protest, although he had no idea what he was even going to say, but Scar was already slinging an arm around his shoulder with the easy, radiant, smile.
“Partnered with the best,” Scar said warmly. “Don’t worry, I'll protect you from any spooky specters!”
Grian was ninety percent sure he just died on the spot.
The gang finished gathering up their gear, each grabbing a flashlight and splitting up some of the other equipment to each group. And then it was time to head inside.
The front door groaned open with a slight push from Grian’s foot, and that sound could have come straight from a horror movie soundtrack. Dust swirled in the beam of Scar’s flashlight as he ducked in first, holding the door open for Grian with a grin.
“Welcome to our humble haunted abode,” Scar said, his voice echoing faintly in the empty hall.
Grian stepped in reluctantly, a hand moving to rub his arm nervously. The air inside was cold and stale, like the whole place had been holding its breath for decades. The other filed in behind them, but their footsteps quickly scattered as Impulse called out.
“Alright, you two head left! We’ll cover the rest!”
Scar gave a salute, his flashlight bobbing as he did. “Got it!” C’mon G, adventure awaits!”
“Adventure. Sure.” Grian trailed after him, trying not to think about how his heart was already racing. Not from the house. From Scar. Always Scar.
The hallway stretched out into darkness, wallpaper peeling in long strips and floorboards creaking under each step. Grian’s nerves lit up at every sound. He kept close to Scar, watching the way his flashlight beam danced across the walls as it flicked into each room they passed.
Scar, of course, seemed completely unfazed. He even hummed under his breath as if they weren’t actively walking straight into a horror cliche. “You know,” he said lightly, “if I were a ghost, this would be a great place to hang out. Real fixer-upper potential.”
Grian snorted despite himself. “Yeah. Perfect place for some undead interior decorating.” He replied, joining in on the banter.
Scar shot him a grin over his shoulder, like he’d been waiting just to hear Grian laugh. And that thought did nothing to slow his heart down.
A sudden crash echoed from somewhere upstairs. Grian jumped, nearly into Scar’s back. Scar steadied him with a warm hand on his arm, his flashlight quickly sweeping upward.
“Probably just the others,” Scar said, calm as anything. “Don’t worry.”
*Don’t Worry*, Grian thought, staring at that easy smile. As if that were possible.
As they continue down the hallway, Scar’s flashlight begins to flicker a little bit. Grian’s eyes widened a little in panic. Is their flashlight broken? That wouldn’t be good at all. They only have one! Grian didn’t bring on because he is holding on to the emf reader! If their flashlight turns off, they’ll be stuck in the dark!
Despite Grian’s current inner panic, Scar seems completely unphased. He stops for a second, Grian standing nervously next to him as he examines the flashlight.
“Huh..” Scar gives it a few good smacks to his hand and the flickering stops. Grian lets out a loud sigh of relief and Scar grins at him. “See? Just some old circuits! Nothing to worry about! We will probably have to tell Impulse our flashlights are bugging though.”
Grian nods slowly in response, his heart still attempting to calm down from his panic moment earlier.
As they pass by a doorway, slow, deliberate footsteps echo down the hall behind them. The both of them freeze in place, but Scar flashes a grin while Grian looks petrified.
“Well that’s not ominous at all,’ Scar says.
Grian stares at Scar for a second in silence. “Scar. I think.. I think those were actually footsteps..” He whispers, too scared to say anything too loudly. Scar’s eyes widen for a second, his gaze looking around behind them. He then gets this determined look in his eye and suddenly takes Grian’s hand.
“Then we’d better go investigate!” He exclaims, leading them back down the hallway towards the sound of the footsteps.
Grian, despite the fact that Scar is marching them straight toward the noises they just heard, is more freaked out by the fact that Scar is currently holding his hand.
The footsteps come again, this time closer. They continue to investigate, Scar’s flashlight scanning each and every shadow they come across.
Grian hears a door creak a bit closer then he would like and what sounds like faint scratching on the walls. His grip on Scar’s hand tightens reflexively, and he feels Scar squeeze his hand back.
The two are silent as they walk. Scar is silent more in concentration while Grian is too scared to make a noise.
Scar pulls the two of them down another hall, and they come across the door to what appears to be a small storage closet. Another loud bang is heard, but this time, it sounds almost right next to them. Grian lets out a small squeak in surprise, and he hears Scar suck in a small, almost shaky breath.
Scar pushes the door to the closet open and pulls Grian inside with him. “Hideout time, detective. Ghost’ll never find us in here,” He whispers, slowly shutting the door behind them and effectively locking the two of them in the dark, cramped closet.
The closet is *tiny*. Standing shoulder to shoulder, pressed up against each other with the light of Scar’s flashlight pointed towards their feet. He eventually decides to turn it off, leaving them in pitch darkness. Grian has to blink a few times to get his eyes adjusted to the sudden lack of light. He vaguely registers the fact that their hands are still tangled together between their bodies.
They’re both breathing hard. Grian can tell because he can *feel* Scar’s breath on his cheek. Grian feels like his whole body has been set alight with his nerves. Both from the scare they just had and their current proximity.
Something knocks against the wall right beside them, hard enough to rattle the shelves. Grian jumps, and Scar squeezes his hand once again as reassurance.
“Don’t worry,” He speaks softly. “I’ve got you.”
And that was it. The moment Grian’s overworked, terrified, wildly-in-love brain snapped.
“You’re gonna kill me before the ghost does, Scar!” He blurts out, but very quickly regrets opening his mouth.
Scar blinks at him in the darkness. “What? How?” Grian can hear the confusion laced in his voice.
Grian’s face burns. He can’t stop now. Not with Scar’s hand in his and his face so incredibly close. “Because… you don’t know what you do to me! You’re so… you, and I can’t think straight, and I-” He groans, dropping his forehead against the shelf in front of him. “Ugh. I like you, okay? I’ve liked you forever. And now I’ve just confessed in a haunted murder closet. This is literally the worst possible timing.”
For a beat, Scar just stares. The house itself falls eerily silent, as if the ghosts were also listening to them, waiting to see what Scar will say.
Suddenly, a grin splits onto Scar’s face, wide and bright. “You like me?” He whispers. “Grian, I joined this club *because* you joined. I thought if we hunted ghosts together, maybe I’d finally work up the nerve to tell you the same thing.”
Grian’s jaw drops. “..What?”
Scar leans closer, ridiculously closer, his breath warm against Grian’s lips. “So, Uh. Can I kiss you before the ghost comes back?”
Grian doesn’t even know what to say to that. Luckily, he doesn’t have to though. Because Scar kisses him.
It’s soft, clumsy, and perfect. Grian kisses back, relief and adrenaline tangling together-
And then the closet door flies open.
“FINALLY!” Impulse shouts, his flashlight beam blinding the two of them. Skizz and Gem stand behind him, smug grins plastered on their faces.
“”Do you two have *any idea* how much work went into this?” Skizz demands. “We’ve been rattling pipes and stomping around for half an hour!”
Gem folds her arms, looking rather pleased with herself. “Honestly, you two were worse than the ghosts.”
Scar and Grian freeze, still holding onto each other. Grian yanks back, face flaming. “You- you mean this was all fake?!” He exclaims.
Gem smirks. “Oh, the house is creepy enough, but yeah. The noises? Us. We were sick of watching you two pine like idiots.”
Scar laughs, rubbing the back of his neck before lacing his fingers through Grian’s again. “Well, mission accomplished. You’ve got your couple now.”
Grian buries his face in his free hand. “I hate all of you...”
But he doesn’t let go of Scar’s hand.
They didn’t stop teasing the *entire* way back to the van.
Gem walked a full five steps ahead, but kept loudly whispering to Skizz like they couldn’t hear her. “So dramatic, so romantic. ‘Oh no, Scar, don’t let the ghost eat me before I tell you I’m in love with you!’”
Skizz joined in with a falsetto. “‘This is the worst possible timing!’ Honestly, it was like watching a bad horror romcom. In a closet.”
Impulse was just grinning ear to ear, walking backward so he could look at them while Scar and Grian trailed behind, red-faced and refusing to make eye contact. “You know, if we’d known all it would take was a fake haunting and a dark closet, we would’ve done this weeks ago!”
Scar raises a hand in mock surrender, still not letting go of Grian’s. “Alright, alright. We deserve it. Lay it on us. Just be gentle. I’m emotionally fragile right now!”
“You’re a menace,” Grian mutters under his breath, paired with an eye roll.
Scar leans in, voice soft so the others can’t hear it. “Yeah, but I’m *your* menace now.”
Grian chokes on a laugh. “Gross.”
“Romantic!” Scar corrects. “Say it back.”
“Nope.”
“Say it”
“Never.”
They make it back to the van before Scar could chase the words out of him, but once the gear is packed and the others are distracted arguing over who has to sit in the back with the two ‘lovebirds’, Grian tugs him aside.
They end up leaning against the back bumper, just far enough away from the group for a little peace. The house loomed in the distance, crooked and silent once again, like it hadn’t just been the stage for a carefully-orchestrated matchmaking session.
Scar turns to him, that soft smile creeping back in. “So. How was that ghost hunt?” He asks.
Grian rolls his eyes. “Fake ghost hunt. But.. surprisingly effective.” He replies.
Scar tilts his head, pretending to consider. “Think we should keep doing this?”
“The ghost hunting? I think Impulse and Skizz would have our heads if we quit on them now.”
“The dating.”
Grian flushes, but doesn’t look away. “Oh. Yeah. I think we should.”
Scar bumps their shoulders together gently. “Cool. Me too. But just so you know, next time we’re in a creepy hallway, I’m definitely holding your hand again.”
Grian gives him a small, genuine smile. “I’m counting on it.”
Scar grins like he just won the lottery and leans in to kiss him again. It’s quick and soft. A promise.
Somewhere near the front of the van, Skizz shouts. “IF YOU’RE GONNA MAKE OUT, AT LEAST SHARE WITH THE CLASS!”
Grian groans into Scar’s shoulder. “I regret everything.”
“No, you don’t” Scar says, beaming. “You love it.”
And maybe… maybe he did.