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“So the game we’re going to play is,” Gem paused for dramatic effect, the plastic bottle creaking as she pressed it with more force than needed, probably in excitement.
“Oh my god, just say it already,” Grian snatched the poor, abused bottle, and laid it horizontally on the floor between all of them. Whatever game Gem had in mind, it definitely involved spinning the bottle and romance.
“Seven minutes in heaven,” she announced, smirking as the room erupted in oooh’s and shared glances, some nervous, some excited. “If anyone feels uncomfortable, they can back out at any time.”
Grian wondered if he should back out. He didn’t feel uncomfortable, he just felt… scared. Scared if the bottle he spun landed on Scar. He loved Scar. He did from the start. But he was fairly sure Scar didn’t feel the same. So if they did end up in the cupboard together, whatever they would end up doing will mean nothing in the end.
But he didn’t back out. A mistake? Probably. But he was an expert at making mistakes and then living with the consequences that tore him apart daily.
“Who’s going first?” Gem asked. Everyone stared at each other. Who would be bold enough to make the first move? Not Grian, that’s for sure.
“I guess I’ll go,” Jimmy sighed, leaning forward to give the bottle a spin. It spun almost as if trying to hypnotise. It spun and spun and then it came to an abrupt stop, pointing at Tango.
The room once more erupted in whistles and ooh’s. Jimmy and Tango wore identical blushes that covered every inch of their skin.
Grian almost opened his mouth to protest, feeling a wave of protectiveness crash over him. Jimmy wasn’t a little kid anymore, but in Grian’s eyes, he was still his innocent, naive little brother. He remained silent though, knowing Jimmy wouldn’t appreciate if he did protest.
Jimmy was grown up. He knew what he was doing. He knew how to fly without Grian there to support him.
Hand in hand, Tango and Jimmy stepped into the closet barely tall enough to accommodate them. The door flung shut and the timer begun.
It was quite awkward to sit there while his younger brother was most probably making out with one of his good friends, at least for Grian it was.
Instead of focusing on whatever they were doing or whatever his friends were discussing, he let himself fixate on the timer, watching each second go down with a burning intensity. As soon as the last second turned into a zero, he sprung to his feet, walked over to the closet, and knocked on the door. “Your time’s up! Get out,” he banged harder.
“Geez man, calm down,” Jimmy pushed open the door to the dingy closet with one hand, the other intertwined with Tango’s.
“So who gets to be next? Is there a method or something to choose?” Pearl asked.
“Uh, it’ll just be random,” Gem scratched her chin in thought, “Speaking of, I really, really think Grian should go next,” she flashed him a devilish smirk.
She was an, to steal Pearl’s vocabulary, absolute nugget.
“Yep.”
“For sure.”
“Yeah!”
Even Scar was agreeing. He let out an offended huff. They were all, to borrow Pearl’s word again, nuggets. Soggy nuggets, probably.
“Alright, alright, fine,” he groaned, spinning the bottle. Best to just get over with it.
It landed on…
Scar.
He didn’t know whether to hate or love his luck. “Oh my god,” he ran his hand down his face, trying to rub off the blush that was most definitely painted across his cheeks. “Alright,” he stood up on his uncertain legs and took hesitant steps towards the cupboard.
“If you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” Scar reassured him, resting an impossibly soft hand on his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze.
Oh Scar, I want this so, so, so bad.
Scar let out a warm chuckle, “Is that so?”
Oh shoot, did he say that out loud? Eugh. “I did—”
“Don’t worry I feel the same. I want this, too. But do you really want this?”
He covered his face with his hands, unusually flustered, but he nodded nonetheless, earning another chuckle from Scar as he dragged him to the cupboard with a barely disguised hint of excitement.
Grian stepped in first with Scar just behind, shutting the door as he did so, plunging them into near darkness. The cupboard was unbelievably tight, forcing the two of them to be very, very close.
Scar’s body was flush against his own. He could feel each strained breath Scar took and every small movement of his body. Void, this was really happening.
“Hi,” Scar grinned down at him, both of his hands resting comfortably on his hips, fingers running up and down, sending shivers down his spine.
“Hi,” he snaked his arms around his neck, letting Scar pull him in, their bodies impossibly close.
“Uh, can I?” He asked shyly. Grian chuckled this time. How could one man be so hot and so adorable?
“Yeah,” he leaned in, breath ghosting over Scar’s lips. Somehow finding the courage to do so, he closed the gap between them.
Scar’s lips were as soft as his touch. The kiss was better than the daydreams and fantasies his mind came up with to accompany him when he was lonely. Grian was vaguely aware of the timer ticking out there somewhere, but for him, time had stopped all together. This one moment seemed to stretch on and on, pulled taut and firm.
Grian gasped as Scar nipped at his lower lip, a silent demand for permission. And how was Grian to refuse? He parted his lips, letting Scar’s tongue make its way in. His tongue explored his mouth, mapping every inch of it. Scar tasted sweet, like warm honey and caramel candies— he found himself seeking more of the wonderful taste.
One of Scar’s hands trailed downwards, resting on his ass. He gave a small pinch. Grian jolted, leaning further into Scar, and whimpered into the kiss. Using that hand, he hitched one of his legs up, letting Grian wrap it around his torso, before raising the other leg.
Oh god. This was really happening. And it was absolutely amazing. He just hoped that the feelings he harboured for Scar were reciprocated. Should he ask? Maybe at the end. He sighed.
Scar pulled away and Grian found himself chasing after him.
“Hey G, let a man breathe,” Scar laughed at his reaction, playfully patting his cheek.
“Right…” he slumped against him, resting his head on his shoulder as he panted for the air he had been lacking. “I- I like you, Scar. No, I love you.” He sputtered out, not letting his overthinking stop him. Some part of him truly believed Scar felt the same.
“R-really?” Scar asked, surprise and shock coating his voice,
“Yeah. I understand if you don’t fe—”
“I love you, too.”
Oh.
Oh. He loved him. Oh Stars. Oh Void. Oh everything. Scar loved him. He loved him. Was this real? Was he dreaming? Would he wake up in the morning, disappointed and hurt?
Scar pressed a kiss to his exposed neck, and whispered against his throat, “This is very much real.”
“Oh my…” Grian could almost cry in happiness.
“So are we?”
“Yeah,” Scar smiled against his neck, “Can I… not to rush or anything, but can I leave a mark? Where your sweater covers your neck, of course.”
He gulped. He wanted it. He wanted this. He wanted Scar. Scar could do anything to him and he’d take it with a dopey smile on his face. “Please.” He fisted his hands in Scar’s shirt and tilted his head, baring more of his throat for Scar.
Scar smiled. He used one finger to pull down his collar and leaned in, pressing his lips to Grian’s skin, and he sucked. Grian let out a shaky moan. This felt good. Impossibly good. Scar’s lips trailed lower to leave an—
“And time’s up, lovebirds,” Gem pulled open the cupboard doors, standing there with her arms crossed. “But I must say, I’m glad you guys finally talked things through, or well… did whatever you did,” she gestured vaguely to their pathetic, ruined states, “I don’t think any of us could bear another day with you two very obviously, painfully, mutually pining.”
Grian was almost mad at Gem for ruining their moment, but he was more surprised at the fact that Scar was pining for him, too, and it was obvious to everyone but him. One look at Scar told him he was thinking the same thing.
“Anyways get out,” she said.
Scar unhooked Grian’s legs and helped him to the ground, pressing a brief kiss to his forehead, “I love you.”
“I love you more,” he replied.
“Well then, I love you morer,” Scar retorted with a cocky smile.
“I love you morest,” Grian crossed his arms, challenging him to top that.
“That’s not a real word!” He protested, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout.
“And morer is?” He asked, arching a brow, before erupting in giggles. Scar quickly joined in, and then both of them were silently snickering.
Gem rolled her eyes, “Idiots.” She muttered, walking away.