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Slick blood slides between Mumbo and Scar's intertwined hands.
The moon is bright above them as they make their way out of the forest. It makes the blood covering Mumbo's face glisten. Scar keeps stumbling over his own feet to admire it.
His legs wobble beneath him, but it's nothing compared to Mumbo's full body trembling. He keeps blinking away tears before they can form, trying his hardest to get his anxiety under control.
Scar watches, rubbing gentle circles into his cold fingers. Blood is beginning to dry, accentuating the cracks in his skin.
"Where do you want to go?" Scar asks, quiet.
"Anywhere but my base."
With a nod, Scar takes the lead, pulling Mumbo along with him.
✫
They sit in a building holding one of Scar's many storage modules. Pale moonlight shines through the open entry, mixing with the warm hue of lanterns.
Mumbo shuffles on his feet, staring at them as Scar checks his chests for something. The vex makes a noise, drawing Mumbo's attention. His mind is racing with thoughts he'd rather not have.
What if he loses control again? Actually hurts Scar this time?
"Hold these." Mumbo is handed a couple of folded towels. He fumbles before taking them between pinched fingers. He'll get less blood on them that way.
Scar wanders to the corner of the room where a desk and chair sits. He moves the sparse supplies from the stained wood before dragging it over.
"Come sit," He says, patting the surface of said table. Mumbo obliges, hopping up onto it without much thought. It's high enough that his legs dangle ever so slightly.
The vex then brings over a bucket, carefully placing it beside Mumbo so that the water doesn't slosh over. They're nearly at the same level now. It's not something either of them are used to.
Scar smiles, tired yet sweet all the same. "Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?" He takes the towels from Mumbo's stained fingers, sinking them into the water. One rests on the side of the bucket, while the other is carefully wrung out.
The noise of the action seems unnaturally loud.
The towel is stark white against Scar's tanned hand, creating a contrast any artist would appreciate. He takes Mumbo's wrist gently, wiping the blood from every crevice of the vampire's hand.
When he's finished with the first, he starts on the other. It feels oddly intimate, even more so when Scar pauses to inspect the sharp, bloody nails. Mumbo shivers, peels his hand from Scar's grasp slowly.
"They're pretty." Scar says.
"What?"
A blush creeps onto Mumbo's cheeks, invisible beneath the lamb's blood. "Your nails, they're pretty." The vex repeats, amusement clear on his face.
"Oh," Mumbo takes a look at them, "thank you." They're long, pointed, much like his ears. He thinks they'll take some time getting used to, to not think of them as the traits of a monster.
Scar hums in response, discarding the dirty towel, picking up the next. He rings it out, and Mumbo tries not to flinch at the sound. He's composed as he begins to wipe away the blood smeared across Mumbo's face, unbothered almost.
Mumbo finds he appreciates it very much, relaxing into the motions. His eyes slip shut to Scar's even breathing, which earns a huff from the vex. "We're almost done. Don't fall asleep on me just yet."
"Sorry..." Mumbo blinks his eyes open, finding Scar leaning over him, pressing the gentlest of kisses onto his forehead.
"C'mon, let’s get you to bed." Scar tucks him in like a child, then settles in a chair next to the bed, “All good?”
“Are you sleeping somewhere else?” Mumbo asks, regretting it immediately at the sly smile creeping along Scar’s face.
“Well, I was planning to, but it seems the server’s local vampire has other ideas.” He raises his arms in a half shrug, then leans in, “Wouldn’t want you to get sad all by your lonesome.”
Mumbo is positive his cheeks are beetroot red, courtesy of the lamb’s blood in his system. He silently curses himself for saying anything, but then again, he’d much rather have Scar near by. “S-so, you’ll sleep with me?”
Scar’s eyebrows shoot upwards, and the smirk breaks out into a grin. Mumbo shoves a pillow in his face before he can say anything else.
Later, when the lamps are turned off and they’re both settled under the blankets, Mumbo turns to face Scar in the dark.
“What do you think Grian is going to say?”
“Hm, probably something like ‘oh mumbo why didn’t you come to me for help or anyone for that matter we’re all best friends’ or something.” Mumbo flicks him between his eyes, the upside of being nocturnal, “Ow!”
Theres a quiet spell. Scar notices just how nervous Mumbo is about going to someone else, and intertwines their hands under the sheets, “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. Grian is all sorts of whacky with a crazy background. He isn’t going to care about anything but your health and safety.”
Mumbo grips Scar’s hand until his nails leave little indents, and Scar squeezes right back. “You’re right. It’s just scary. You weren’t exactly supposed to find out either.”
The vex gasps, “You wouldn’t tell this pretty face about your conversion?” He puffs out his cheeks, knowing Mumbo can see him just fine.
It gets a laugh out of him. That’s Scar for you, always there to lighten the mood, to ease your fears. He uses his free hand to squeeze Scar’s cheeks like a doting granny, “Well, when you put it that way, I suppose you would’ve charmed it right outta my mouth.”
Mumbo relaxes his hold on Scar’s face, fingers sliding down to hold his chin. They seem so close, it’s a wonder he hadn’t noticed earlier. Looking at the vex in the dark, comfortable and warm, a sight for only him to see, Mumbo gets the urge to yank Scar even closer and take a bite out of his face. Or kiss him.
One of the two.
Instead, he drops his hand, sighing. Their breathing seems loud in the sudden silence. After a few more seconds, Scar begins, “I could charm a lot more outta that mouth-“
“SCAR!”