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The playing games portion of the event is over, and now Martyn gets to hang out with his favourite hermits until he has to go. He's chosen to spend all of his time with his husband.
He got to spend plenty of time playing with Skizz, and he sees Ren on Misadventures anyways. They don't need to take up any more of his limited time. He never gets to see Mumbo anywhere except the life series, and sometimes he isn't even there.
This is such a unique opportunity to spend time with Mumbo without threat of death hanging over their heads.
They're sat on the bench Mumbo has built across from his town. It's beautiful, especially with the setting sun. “I don't think I ever would've took you for a builder.” Martyn comments.
The only things he's ever seen Mumbo build is his bunker, his sideways house, that awful tower, and a few bridges. None of that can compare to... this.
“I didn't either, until this season. Never liked anything I did,” Mumbo says. “But I think this has changed my mind. I really love it here.”
Martyn loves it here too. He can see the essence of Mumbo inside of every build in front of him. He loves that oxidized copper colour so much, it always makes Martyn think of him.
It feels like, looking at it all, that he gets a glimpse into Mumbo's soul. It must be so beautiful in there.
“What's the deal with the whole computer thing, then?” Martyn asks, leaning into Mumbo's side as he points vaguely to the bulbous creation.
“It's me.” Martyn does suppose it looks like him, with the moustache and all. As the sun creeps below the horizon the computer's eyes close. Like it's sleeping. Of course Mumbo would include a detail like that.
“You look great for a computer.”
Mumbo snickers. There it is. Martyn can never get enough of making him laugh. “Definitely better than an old man.”
“Are you kidding?” Martyn kisses the corner of Mumbo's mouth. “You think I'm not into older guys? Your grey hairs were always the hottest thing about you.”
“I don't think I am older than you, technically,” Mumbo kisses back, properly. “I've still only lived for twenty-nine years. I just look about eighty.”
Martyn huffs. “Not fair.”
The sun's gone down, and all the lights in the town are visible, along with Joel's city in the background. It's impressive just how well all of the builds on this mountain blend together, despite the different styles.
They're quiet for so long, watching lights flicker, embracing each other's body heat. They don't have to talk for Martyn's time to be well-spent, do they?
“I wish you could visit more often.” Mumbo admits.
“Or you could play in some other servers for once,” Martyn teases. “But yeah, I do too. Never get to see you enough.” Martyn rubs his face against Mumbo's shoulder.
Mumbo's thumb caresses the back of Martyn's hand. “You should put something in my, erm, brain room. Since I plan to have some part of me stay in Season Ten forever.”
“Something for you to remember me by?”
“Yeah, maybe just a sign, or anything— don't have to.” Mumbo's face turning red is just that more apparent with his white hair adding to the contrast his pale skin already gave.
“'course I will,” Martyn promises, bringing a hand up to cradle Mumbo's face. His skin feels different. “I'll leave a little "I love you" note, and a picture, just in case you can't read when you're a chicken.”
“Thank you.” Mumbo responds, and it's so sincere it hurts.
Martyn kisses him about it. It's one of the last he'll get for a while, so he makes the most of it. When they have to part for air (dying doesn't matter on his server, they should really keep going 'til they suffocate), Martyn presses his forehead to Mumbo's.
“I miss you.” Martyn says. Such an impossible statement, because Mumbo's right there, but it's so hard to put into words how much he has missed Mumbo since he last saw him in Wild Life (if you don't count the brief times he was there in Past Life), and how much he will miss Mumbo until he next sees him, whenever that may be.
Mumbo gets what he means anyway. “I miss you too.”
“Can we— do you have a house?” It's all Mumbo's house, technically, but he wants to go where Mumbo spends his time.
“Yeah, I do. You want to see it?” Mumbo pets his hair like he always does when they're comfortable together.
Martyn nods. “Feel like every time we see each other you're... scared. I want to see how you live when you're safe. Wanna cuddle you and sleep in your bed without having to worry.”
“... Don't you want to spend the time you have left here having fun?” Mumbo cocks his head.
“I had enough fun earlier. I'm tired, I'm sick of all the noise, and I just want to crash in bed with my old, smelly husband. I'm privileged to be able to do that. Don't normally get to.”
Mumbo giggles. “Alright, then,” he stands up, only slightly pained by his joints. It's fine. Mumbo holds out a hand to Martyn, and he takes it. “I have a lot of old DVDs, if you'd like to watch something.”
“Yeah, I would, actually.”