Chapter Text
It was just another warm evening, the sun was setting and it was barely peeking over the far horizon. Scar had just began to settle into the night, getting ready to rest after a long day. It hadn't been long since the end of third life, the thought of seeing Grian again, after everything that ensued in that cursed desert, made his heart ache and head feel light.
It was a few days since third life ended, and he didn't make an effort to try to contact his friend, scared of the inevitable pain that would haunt him, his mind and his dreams. He was certainly almost sure that Grian was deliberately avoiding him too, often trying his best not to make eye contact when they passed by each other. Scar noticed the guilty expression on Grian's face every time, that same one he had during third life, during that fight.
As much as he wanted to see Grian's perfect face, his sharp avian features, that beautiful smile that made Scar's cheek redden by a noticeable amount, just Grian himself, Scar couldn't bear to be reminded of that stupid cactus ring. The pain of being pushed and shoved into the prickly plants by his dearest friend echoed through his nerves every now and then. It wasn't Grian's fault anyway though, if they didn't die, then they would be trapped forever, stuck together with only each other as company. To Scar, it wouldn't feel that bad, he didn't mind the idea of spending the rest of his time with his best friend in the desert.
Scar thought about those words for a long moment, best friend. It felt...weird, like it wasn't the most accurate description of him and the blonde's relationship. Scar knew he admired Grian, a lot. Sometimes, he felt it breached the border between it being totally platonic to something more serious, something that he wanted to cherish forever, something more than what he already has. And though he'd never admit it to anyone's face, let alone Grian, sometimes he felt that he wanted to lean down and kiss Grian on those pretty lips of his, letting his hands roam through the avian's messy pile of golden locks and down his back, sticking his fingers through the other guy's delicate wings, feeling every individual feather that makes up those beautiful vibrant array of colours.
As much as he wanted to, he just couldn't. What if Grian rejected his feelings, what if he didn't reciprocate those god awful feelings back, what if Grian only ever saw Scar as a really good friend, and potentially nothing else more? Worse, what if Grian becomes disgusted by these feelings that he never wants to see Scar again? The scenarios and thoughts piled on top of each other, going through all the possibilities of what could happen if he ever let it slip. Scar took a long breath in and sighed, letting those thoughts wash away into the back of his mind that he may revisit again.
But again, remembering sharing the cramped double bed in Monopoly Mountain, Grian's dusty and soft wings brushing against Scar's own fingers, made the corner's of Scar's mouth perk up. It was a smart decision—at least to Scar—to place their beds together, conserving heat between each other to 'save energy' for the death game (they would've been the same if they didn't), they both agreed on it, it was indeed true that the desert got absurdly cold at night. So when at times Grian did hold Scar which did happen a fair amount, he would latch onto Scar so tightly, making Scar feel an overwhelming surge of panic and tension arise in him, leaving him wondering about whether or not it was ever just friendly, which then led to him shaking it off as friendly because if it were actually romantic he would have to talk to—it was confusing to say the very least for Scar.
Turning his head away from the confusing bits, Scar did appreciate those short and sweet moments of continuing to build trust between him and Grian, allowing Scar to tidy up and preen his wings for when the wind blew granules of sand into the crevices of his feathers. It made Scar feel like a special person to Grian, knowing how sensitive those highly impressive and delicate wings could get, there were only a limited number of trusted people that Grian had on an imaginary list of people who could help with his wings in his mind and Scar was definitely proud to be featured on there, even if he may not be on the top...
That was when quiet knocking echoed through the place, the gentle pattering at the door asking for the person behind it to be let in. Scar straightened his back, the knocking disturbing his thinking session.
"Come in!" Scar yelled, hoping it was loud enough for whoever was on the other side of that door to come in and reveal who they were. As soon as the door swung open, Scar was met with a surprise when the person stepping in was an exhausted Grian.
"Can I come in? I wanna talk," Grian asked, adorning that same guilty expression on his face the last time they passed by each other, "I won't be long, I uhm—promise."
"Oh, G, take all the time you need! It's fine," Scar replied, still a bit hesitant, "These chairs here are a bit uncomfort—uncomfortable, do you want to sit on my bed, I don't mind it, just thought that you might prefer it, you know."
Scar bit his tongue, why did he just invite Grian to his bed? He hasn't talked to the other in days and the first thing he does was offer Grian to go to his bedroom, how shameless! A bead of sweat made from guilt and shame formed on his forehead. This was the stupidest thing he's ever done, aside from other not important stuff.
Grian, a little puzzled, slowly nodded his head, "Uh yeah sure."
Oh.
Oh?
When they got to Scar's bedroom, Grian planted his bottom on the side edge of the double bed, soon followed by Scar, placing himself next to the blonde. Grian immediately noticed that Scar's mattress was incredibly soft and felt his mind slipping away into deep sleep.
"So...what did you want to talk about, Gri?" Scar faced towards Grian, taking note of Grian's tired expression.
"Umm, just everything that recently happened," Grian was obviously trying his best to cover up the fact that he was on the verge on leaning back and going to sleep in Scar's bed.
"Grian, if you want to talk about this in the morning, we can, I'll leave you alone." Scar stood up, intending to walk out the bedroom and sleep somewhere else he'd have to find himself.
"Stop." Grian said firmly, Scar turned his head around, looking straight into Grian's dark eyes. Hm? Scar thought. He faced towards Grian and his bed, seeing Grian stare straight back at him made his heart rate increase to an unstable rate.
"Do you want something? I can get you some water if you're thirsty." Scar offered.
Grian whispered an incoherent word under his breath earning a curious hum from the other. The blonde wearily shook his head, then pathetically reached out for Scar.
"I wa—think you should stay, I don't want to inconvenience you bud."
"But what if I'm fine with it?"
"What if I'm not fine with it?"
Grian crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at the other man. Scar hesitated, keeping his mouth open but not managing to respond to his friend. He sighed with defeat, nodding his head, signalling to the awfully smug Grian that he had given up.
"You win."
Then, suddenly, Grian pulled Scar's arm onto the soft cushiony surface, forcing Scar to topple into Grian.
They both chuckled for a bit, just enjoying each other in the comfort of Scar's bed. The pair began to get ready to sleep, removing extra layers of clothing. When Grian wiggled himself out of his dusty crimson sweater which was binding his wings down tightly, the soft pile of feathers strung out into its full wingspan, showing off the bright patches of vibrant colour within his wings. Scar stared intently at them, admiring the structure and assortment of the delicate and beautiful feathers that are spread messily and densely throughout the pair of wings. If he could, he could just stare at those gifts of nature forever, telling Grian how much he loved his wings, the colours, the size and the shape, every single thing about them, every small imperfection, all of it. Was there anything more tempting than Grian's oh-so-sweet allure? Was there?
"Do you like my wings that much?" Grian muttered, not having much energy left to form proper words, slurring them together. The heap of bright feathers were sprawled out across the bed, covering nearly the entire mattress. Scar shook his head, removing himself from the mindless trance he was in, fixating on the fluffy pair of things.
"And where am I meant to sleep?" Scar asked Grian, who was already beginning to doze off in the softness and comfiness of Scar's bed.
Grian paused, then brought his arm to his upper torso, gently patting his chest. His eyes barely kept open. Blood rushed into Scar's scarred cheeks, it felt way too intimate to sleep directly on top of his friend, on his chest even if it wasn't even meant to mean anything.
Did it mean something? Does Grian actually like Scar romantically? Scar shook that echoing thought away. Grian probably was more comfortable with touching than Scar originally thought he was, although he knew the man as not as fond of physical touch between him and others than any average person.
Scar quietly nodded his head and positioned himself on Grian’s chest in a way that forced his head to nestle in between Grian’s jaw and breastbone, making him breathe heavily on the other man’s neck. This felt way closer and less friendly than he had thought it would actually be, if anyone were to see him doing this with Grian, they’d probably think they were in a serious committed relationship, Scar couldn't argue he'd like the thought of it, waking up next to Grian everyday, eating beside him, telling him how much he loved him and the endless number of other things he wanted to do with the man.
He missed the desert, Pizza, Mr Bubbles, Monopoly Mountain, everything, but most of all, Grian. It just felt to comforting sleeping near him again, hearing his quiet breaths going in and out so peaceful and with such tranquility and the rise and fall of his chest as he dreamed about god knows what. He swore if he had the chance to talk to him in the morning, he'd tell the avian about how much he enjoyed being with Grian for that time and sorry for avoiding him and making him feel guilty for killing him, even though he meant to die.
Scar swore he could feel a finger prodding at his scruffy hair, twirling it and fiddling with a large strange with practiced ease. He felt soft feathers wrap around him encasing him in a warm blanket of Grian's wings, he gently brought up his hand to the nape of Grian's neck, stroking it. Oh, how he had missed him so much.
Grian's arms wrapped around Scar's waist as he lightly snored underneath Scar, keeping the brunette surrounded by his wings. Scar squeezed his other hand behind Grian's back and slowly ran his fingers along the transition between soft human skin to Grian's lovely feathery wings. He absorbed the warm heat that radiated off Grian's core, feeling his cheeks burn redder and redder with each second that stretched on.
"Oh songbird, I've missed you so much, has anyone told you how lovely these pair of wings of yours are? Void, how I wish I could go back to that desert, and do everything again, stay there forever," mumbled the scarred man, tracing the edge of Grian's jaw, looking up at him with pure delight, memorising every crease that tainted his perfect face. Abruptly, Grian clenched his arms tighter, gripping Scar around his waist like he would disappear in the morning, run away, ashamed and scared of talking about the things that happened last night and the days and weeks prior.
Soon enough, Scar drifted to sleep, the warmth between him and Grian flowing through his bloodstream and through his heart. As he held on closely, his mind began to wander from reality, into a small world that only a dream version of Grian and him shared in Scar's sleep. This world and same recurring dream happened since the very day Scar figured out that those intense and longing feelings that he had about his friend were more than friendly. It was made off of thoughts and imagination, that he and this seemingly almost real alternate version of the man he so desperately wanted would spend time together in, pranking each other, building extravagant bases but most of all, they were together, romantically, just like Scar had always wanted in real life.
Scar thought it was odd that this Grian could recall memories that he never knew, such as small details from his past, but he brushed it away. He hadn't seen dream Grian in a while, so it was nice to walk up on the dock they had built a while back and spot Grian fishing. Scar tapped Grian's shoulder and sat down on the rigid edge beside him.
"Hey G, I haven't seen you in a while, how are you going?" Scar spoke softly to the dream Grian.
"Fine. I miss you," Grian's head tilted to sit comfortably on Scar's shoulder. Scar gave Grian a quick forehead kiss before turning his head back to watch the landscape. Past the pond, there was a beautiful meadow, with thick and luscious grass laid down and an assortment of different flowers, the most prominent and abundant ones in the field being poppies and lilacs. Just like third life. Scar thought. It was those same flowers, the same ones that Scar had given to Grian after he had fell into a ravine, the same ones that reminded him of the desert, but also Grian. Scar knew how infatuated and love-struck he was with him.
Suddenly, the bob sank down into the murky depths of the water, Grian tugged and pulled on his fishing rod with great strength, focusing intently on whatever had caught onto the hook. A small shiny and glistening book flew into the air, across the sky and into his lap. Dream Grian checked intently on what type of enchanted book this was, it wasn't often that he would fish up a lucky book even with how often he would in this alternate reality.
"Yes!" he cheered with joy, throwing his arms into the air, flailing the fishing rod around like a maniac. It was a mending book, a gorgeous and glowing mending book. Scar smiled in delight and happiness of dream Grian achieving in fishing up a mending book, a goal he had been at for a while with his relentless fishing hobby. As alternate Grian celebrated, he pulled in Scar for a celebratory kiss, catching the other off guard. Scar held the blonde's waist as they deepened the kiss, Scar started nibbling at the bottom of dream Grian's lips.
It all felt so real, not in a weird and strange recurring dream that Scar keeps having about spending time with his best friend who is in a romantic relationship with him in it, but a real thing. Grian's hands put the fishing down and grasped the back of Scar's head lightly, twirling his fingers through the strands and stroked it like a cat.
"I love you," the dream version whispered in his ear. That was when everything faded to pitch black.
Scar's tired eyes slowly opened as he began to shift back into reality. He was still nestled against Grian's neck and further up, Grian's eyes were wide open.
"G'morning handsome," Grian purred, caressing Scar's cheek, running over the discoloured scars that marked his fleshy skin. Scar gazed up at the man he was currently sharing a bed with.
"Hello, sunshine!" Scar sung with great joy. Grian chuckled at the nickname, noting in his head how he found it adorable.
"Well, since I'm not nearly as tired as I was last night, would you like to talk?" Grian sat up, Scar's head slid across Grian's torso and into his lap. Scar nodded, grinning widely as he stared up at the avian. Scar shuffled around, eventually bringing himself up to meet at Grian's eye level. The rising sun's rays spilled in through the cracks of the blinds of the glassy windows, warmly lighting up the room in an orange hue.
Scar looked into Grian's eyes.
Grian looked into Scar's eyes.
Silence ensued, washing over the pair, the growing ringing sounds shouting into both of their ears. The air thinned, the tension rising with extreme suspense. They were just laughing a minute ago, they were just sleeping on top of each other a minute ago, they were just calling each other pet names a minute ago. What changed? Was it the idea of confronting one another? Was it the idea of losing each other again? Was it the idea that that desert meant something? Did it mean anything when they slept in the same bed, when they stood too close to each other, when one had promised his entire life to the other? Did it mean anything then? Did it mean anything now? Or did they sleep in the same bed again just for nothing? Scar's head ached, thoughts inundating his brain like a great flood.
But it wasn't nothing.
It was everything.
Scar had just been murdered—accidentally. Grian looked at the other's mangled corpsed and loot scattered in the deep creeper crater of where Scar had just been standing. Other members surrounded the incident, in horror and shock of what had just occurred. Grian uttered pleas of forgiveness up at the sky towards the Watchers and Scar. He blabbered on about how it was an accident and that he didn't mean to blow up and kill Scar. When the now yellow man came back to the scene, Grian pulled him aside, ushering him to a corner.
"I owe you," Grian kneeled down, one knee buried in the dried grass, his head tucked into his neck, "I am in your service until I lose my first life."
"So you're going to dig the sand with me?"
"I'll do whatever you want to do."
Scar uttered a quiet 'yes' underneath this breath, this was the start of something new.
Scar's lips quivered. His palms felt greasy, his heart was unsteady.
It was Grian's eyes. Those beady black glassy little eyes, with a soft glow of purple emanating underneath them, radiating a mysterious aura that encapsulated the people that were nearby. It was Grian's soul. The very culmination of his being, an imperfect yet beautiful thing, tainted with fucked-up morals, but still so intricate and delicate it could be displayed in a museum. It was his laugh, his everything that Scar wanted, no, needed. Maybe it was the desert, the desert haze, still fogging up his brain, letting every single irrational thought weigh over any other ones.
But he knew it wasn't. It was obvious, how red he'd get whenever they would interact, how his heart raced just listening to Grian's voice ramble on and on, how he'd knew that if he ever got the chance, he would treasure every single part of the avian and he would give up every single thing for the other.
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