Chapter Text
Grian did not want to be awake this early in the morning. It was seven am, an inky blanket was still spread over the sky and the bitter wind had already frozen him to his bones as he stood in front of the bus, arms crossed firmly in a fruitless attempt to keep warm. He was the first teacher to arrive in the expansive carpark. His large colourful wings were pinched close together behind him, unwilling to stretch any further than necessary in the frigid air. He exhaled deeply and watched his glacial breath snake through the air. His belongings had already been piled into the bottom storage section of the bus, and the only things left to do were herding the students into the bus and discovering what teacher he’d be sharing the journey with. If only Joel was here. He could’ve set the bus aflame with a fiery incantation. That would've been sure to warm him up, with the added benefit of course of not having to embark on this dreaded trip. Grian sighed. The perks of elemental magic.
A figure started walking towards him from the opposite end of the driveway. Adjusting his glasses, Grian recognised the messy, brunet waves that sat just above the shoulders of who could only be the professor of Illusionary Magic at Ender Academy, Scar Goodtimes. His emerald eyes shone with excitement as he met Grian’s gaze.
Scar smiled warmly. “Hey Grian! Heard we’re going to be on the same bus this trip!
Grian’s heart rose to his throat, an immovable, rapidly pulsating lump blocking him from replying. So that’s who he was sharing his bus with. He swallowed hard. “Oh.”
He cleared his throat, fighting the urge to fiddle with the sleeves of his crimson cableknit jumper, and tried to answer more normally. “Cool. Dibs not helping the driver load the rest of the luggage.”
Scar chuckled. “Fair enough. I’m happy to help anyway. You excited to see Rome?”
Grian scrunched his nose and shrugged. “Excited to not have to watch a bunch of howdy teenagers trip themselves over with their own defensive spells seven hours a day, I guess.”
Scar released one last chuckle and gave him an encouraging smile before ascending the stairs of the coach, presumably to speak to the driver.
It’s not as though there was anything wrong with Scar sharing his bus, exactly. It wouldn’t actually change anything, Grian reasoned to himself. Except… Grian often found himself getting nervous around Scar. His palms would start sweating, he would fumble dumbly over his words, his ears would redden, and now was absolutely not the time to try and unpack what elicited such a reaction.
Over the course of the next thirty minutes, the rest of the teachers selected for the trip arrived. Jimmy arrived accidentally still in his pajama pants (much to his embarrassment), and wasted no time in making quips about his cousin's unusual punctuality. Bdubs and Etho arrived next, the Herbology and Telekinetic teachers respectively. Although Etho’s class was officially known as ‘Telekinesis Magic’, it additionally included any magic centered around movement, such as transposition and teleportation via portals. They were followed by the joint arrival of Lizzie, the professor of Transfigurative Magic and her husband Joel, the professor of Elemental Magic. Pearl and Gem were the next to arrive, having carpooled, both blushing profusely as they headed towards the growing group of teachers. They taught Sight Magic and Potions. The teacher of Healing Magic, Scott, arrived shortly after and the final member of the party, Tango, the Magical Weaponsmith, showed only ten minutes before they and the entirety of the eleventh grade were scheduled to depart for Rome.
Every student was instructed to get into their form classes, and Grian took a deep breath as he approached his allocated cohort. “Good morning students!”
He was met with much hollering and more than a few obnoxious whistles. Gods, this was going to be a long bus ride. “As you know, this trip will span three weeks, and will be a nice break from your schoolwork, but I must issue a reminder that as educational activities pertaining to your magical lessons will not be the focus of this excursion, unauthorised exhibitions of magic shouldn’t be present either. Whilst you are still students, you are not permitted to practise magic outside of a school setting, least of all when our esteemed Academy is on public display in a foreign city. Is that clear?”
An enthusiastic chorus of ‘yes’ rose from the crowd.
“Great. Now that that’s over and done with, get on the bus you hooligans. Cmon, cmon, no time to waste!”
~~~~~
Grian had settled into his seat near the front of the bus. With his headphones firmly over his ears, book splayed across his lap and warm tea in hand, he should’ve felt almost entirely content to read and relax in his temporary lodging, in perfect comfort save for the undeniable stiffness of his seat and the awkward angle at which his wings pressed into the backrest. But he couldn’t help stealing furtive glances at the man that sat across the aisle from him every few minutes or so, watching as he switched between gently reprimanding or joking with students and organising and reorganising the detailed itinerary spread before him. Studying his vivacious laugh, his easy way of talking to his pupils. Watching Scar was mesmerising, really.
He was snapped from his thoughts when somebody snapped their fingers an inch from his face, having climbed halfway up the bus’s stairs and leant over towards Grian. Joel was looking at him with an amused expression, eyebrow quirked and grinning slightly, having clearly witnessed what Grian had thought was one of his surreptitious cursory looks at the other professor. Apparently, his eyes had lingered longer than intended.
“You were staring,” the other man stated bluntly. Grian’s eyes traced the vivid shamrock streak that blazed through Joel’s dark hair.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Joel rolled his eyes. “Uh huh, sure. Send me the wedding invitation whenever you’re ready.”
Grian opened his mouth to defend himself but Joel cut him off. “I was going to ask if you knew where we’re stopping to stay for the night, because I haven’t the foggiest.”
“That makes two of us. I know we’re driving for about eleven hours before we get there though, and then we’ve got an thirteenish hour drive tomorrow so, you know, at least we have something to look forward to.” Grian smiled sarcastically.
Joel groaned. “For goodness sake. Thanks anyway mate.” And with that, he vanished out of the bus.
The initial hours of the bus ride passed by Grian in a blur, the thumping of the music in his ears and the swirling highway that lay beyond his frosted window creating an experience akin to going through an interstellar wormhole. He made several useless attempts at reading and annotating the combative handbook he planned to assign to his students next semester. 90% of such endeavours only resulted in him doodling absent mindedly in the corner of the page.
“Grian?”
Grian nearly jumped out of his seat, his vibrant wings raising defensively as high as they could while restricted by the low ceiling. Scar winced apologetically. “Sorry, didn’t mean to alarm you. I was just wondering what book you were reading is all.”
Grian let out a shaky exhale, feeling a flush flood his cheeks out of embarrassment for his rather dramatic display of surprise. “It’s nothing interesting, just my younger student’s next assigned reading task. Pretty elementary stuff. What exactly are you reading?”
Grian looked pointedly at the enormous book that had materialised in front of Scar, his comically dubious countenance earning him a huff of laughter.
“Just catching up on Rome’s history. All of the famous cathedrals, statues, stuff like that. Important historical events.”
Grian’s eyebrows raised even further. “You’re catching up on the entire history of Rome in one bus ride?”
“Okay Mr Skeptic, it’s a pretty long damn bus ride.” This time it was Grian’s turn to laugh.
“Alright, alright, I’ll have faith in you. Enjoy your light reading.” Grian turned back to his book, unable to wipe the small smile from his face. Scar shook his head and laughed once more to himself under his breath. Finally focused on the volume in front of him, Grian was too enraptured in analysing the description of a disarmament spell to notice the blush that steadily crept down his coworker’s cheekbones.
Four rest stops and more than a few motion sick teenagers vomiting into backpacks later, the eleventh grade of Ender Academy had finally made it to the hotel they’d call home for the night. Even without factoring in the rest stops the journey had taken longer than expected, and they’d arrive at about nine o clock. The rustic cluster of large brick buildings stood in the middle of the countryside, the serenity of the quiet night air a welcome change from the stifling body heat and constant noise of the crammed bus. The teachers all headed towards the central building to check in at the lobby, leaving the student body sitting in a disorganised jumble outside.
Gem and Pearl chatted energetically, seemingly having remained deep in conversation the entire arduous journey. Joel and Lizzie took five steps into the reception area and promptly collapsed on top of each other in slumberous triumph on a nearby couch. Grian was about ready to fall asleep himself, but he willed himself to line up behind two other late night patrons at the front desk, Scar at his side. To Grian’s horror, he woke from a particularly prominent bout of tired stupor to find himself leaning against Scar slightly as they waited in line, the exhaustion threatening to overwhelm him. He rushed to straighten himself, forcing his posture to remain steadfast and avoiding the other man’s gaze.
“Sorry.” He mumbled sleepily, punctuating his sheepish apology with an undulating yawn.
Scar smiled. He found Grian cute when he was sleepy. Scar almost missed the weight of him against his shoulder. The sight of his messy nest of light brown hair pressed into Scar’s side as he fell asleep on his feet was quite endearing, if Scar was honest with himself.
“Name of booking?” the desk attendant droned, face pressed against their hand as drool dangled from their mouth. The late hour was clearly catching up to everybody.
“Ender Academy,” Grian muttered.
The receptionist groaned frustratedly. They were going to have to give out a lot of room keys, a task they couldn’t have treasured doing during their nine pm shift. Eventually, all the students had been distributed into the various sectors of the hotel and the only people left still in the lobby were Scar and Grian.
“You two are sharing,” the receptionist mumbled, lazily tossing them their key before disappearing up a long spiral staircase, dragging their feet on each step as they went.
“I didn’t know we’d be sharing,” Scar pondered. He didn’t sound particularly bothered, but anxiety crept up inside Grian and curled in his chest nonetheless.
“If you want, I can probably sleep somewhere else. The lobby couch or… Jimmy’s room? I don’t want to put you out.”
Scar scoffed. “Don’t be silly, it’s no problem. Just didn’t know we’d have roommates is all. I kinda prefer it actually - sleeping alone in places like this creeps me out. It’s too eerie.”
Grian breathed a small sigh of relief. He knew first hand just how loudly his younger cousin snored. The pair climbed the narrow flight of stairs leading to their room, both grimacing at the shrill creak of the rusted door as it swung open. The room was small, but it had a quaint fireplace in the corner and an ensuite which, although it was only big enough for one person to stand in at any given time, was better than nothing.
“Alright if I go brush my teeth?”
Grian nodded, only semi conscious by now. Taking a moment to change out of his clothes, he flopped onto his bed and allowed his head to fall against the thin pillow of his bed unceremoniously, listening to the quiet bustle of Scar splashing water on his face and kneeling on the hearth to light a fire. Once the flames were flickering steadily, he wandered over to Grian’s bed, and, assuming he was asleep, spread the sheets Grian had neglected to pull over himself so that they covered the man’s shivering frame.
“Goodnight Grian,” he whispered into the darkness. Grian was too tired to whisper back.