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Grian gasped as he was shoved further into the space, darkness immediately flooding his vision. The door locked with a click behind him. With it, a pit opened in his stomach, justified as the feeling of another's sigh hit his face.
Scar laughed quietly — the kind of nervous, breathy sound that meant he wasn't completely comfortable. Grian would've cursed if he could, all too aware of the tight space. He hadn't even wanted to play, and now Scar was stuck in this situation with him.
The closet their friends had picked for seven minutes in heaven was far more cramped than he'd expected. It'd been funny when it was Jimmy and Tango being shoved inside, or Pearl and Gem, but now that it was him? Suddenly, he was really wishing the party host had a walk-in.
Their chests were almost pressed together, feet nudging with every little movement. Grian could smell Scar's cologne — a more expensive version of the scent he always wore, to fit the occasion. It'd been pretty much unnoticeable before, when they were surrounded by others.
Now though, it invaded all of Grian's senses, made him dizzy. Not that it was entirely unpleasant. The problem came from exactly how much Grian enjoyed it. Their proximity alone filled his stomach with fluttering feelings.
"I'm sorry about this," Grian sighed. "Does it hurt?"
Somewhere unseen beyond him, he felt Scar shift. Undoubtedly, he was struggling. They'd pushed him in first, so that meant he was halfway leaning against the metal shoe-rack in the back.
"It isn't my first choice of hang-out spots," Scar admitted. His voice was low, and nearer to Grian than the other man expected. "There's just a sharp thingy digging into my spine."
As best he could, Grian pressed himself against the door. Even as it put a little distance between them, it wasn't quite enough. "Here," he said. "Try standing up straight. I'm as far back as I can get."
"Oh, uh, sure," Scar replied. "Excuse me while I… um…"
A lot of shifting and ruffling of fabric could be heard. Scar was obviously dislodging himself from the worst of the closet. After a few seconds of fumbling, the other reached his new position, and Grian realized his mistake.
If they'd been close before, this put them practically on top of one another. Scar's legs were slotted between Grian's, and the whole front of their bodies were shoved together. All that kept them from being nose-to-nose was their height difference.
A blush, that thankfully couldn't be seen, spread across Grian's face. He hoped his friend didn't notice how his air intake became uneven. In the heavy silence, though, it was hard not to hear the change.
God, it was awkward. Neither Scar nor Grian knew what to say, and it was impossible to tell the passage of time. Their phones had been stolen as part of the game. Not that they were supposed to be playing the game at all.
The two had just been purusing the party, and when Grian got curious about the state of the people playing seven minutes, Scar had accompanied him. How was he supposed to know the bottle would land on a strangely empty part of the circle, pointed directly at Grian? And how was he supposed to know his friends would goad him into accepting his punishment anyway?
"I'm just an onlooker," Grian had tried to argue when Cleo started pulling him towards the open closet door. "Part of the audience! Not actually playing!"
"That's fine," Cleo had told him. Instead of stopping, however, she'd grabbed hold of Scar's wrist and begun dragging him towards the closet as well. "Then, we'll pair you up with someone else who isn't playing! To make it fair!"
They'd tossed Scar in, followed by Grian, and there'd been no room for discussion.
"This is my fault," Grian said, grumbling to himself. "How irritating."
"It's fine," Scar replied. "There are definitely worse people to be stuck in a closet with."
"Yeah? Like who?"
"Like Mumbo!"
"Mumbo." Grian nodded his immediate agreement. The image alone had him feeling claustrophobic. "Too long of limbs, that one. Neither person would have space. It'd end up being the worst seven minutes of their lives."
Scar laughed, and Grian felt the rumble in his own ribs, rocketing around until it hit him right in the heart. Such a lovely sound. He wished he could see the smile that was sure to have accompanied it. Damned closet.
"I'm lucky that I have you, I suppose," Scar replied. Then, without warning, he brought his hands to rest on Grian's waist and exclaimed, "You're fun-sized!"
Grian's mouth fell open, a sputtering noise starting in his throat. He wanted to be outraged, especially by the joke about his height, but all of his attention immediately honed in on Scar's hands. Two palms sat with full confidence on either side of him, warm enough to feel through the thin layer of Grian's clothes.
Suddenly, years of surviving off the slightest contact came to an end. He didn't have to obsess over just some brushed hands or touching knees or prolonged stares, because this was so much more intense. This wasn't accidental or unconscious. Scar grabbed him on purpose, and while they were already practically in each other's laps too!
God, Grian was going to pass out.
"Don't talk about me like that," he scoffed, doing his best impression of a person that was not rapidly approaching the edge of a cliff. His voice definitely wavered. "I'm not a piece of candy."
Scar laughed again, but didn't try to argue. He also, notably, did not remove his hands.
They stayed in place as the seconds ticked by, even as Scar's laughter faded into amused silence. Warm, steady, and surprisingly comfortable. Grian waited one beat, two beats, until he could stand it no longer. Seven or so more minutes of this, and he'd be dead. His heart threatened to explode right out of his chest.
As casually as he could manage — which was a pathetic concept — Grian cleared his throat and asked, "Are you just going to keep your hands where they are, or are you planning on moving them anytime soon?"
He expected the question to cause his companion to jerk backwards, yanking them away as if he'd been burned. He expected profuse apologies, or maybe a joke to ease the tension. Those were the ways Scar had reacted in the past to situations such as these, even if this one was slightly more personal.
But he didn't get any of that.
Instead, Scar hummed, like he was considering it. "Mm… No. I think I'm fine where I am."
Grian's eyes widened, breath hitching.
"What?"
Electric shockwaves shot through his veins, setting him alight from the tips of his fingers to the ends of his ears.
"Yeah, this is the perfect place to keep my hands," Scar continued. Grian felt him shift, though he wasn't sure if he was hallucinating it, because the other man seemed to lean in closer. "There's already so little room. Better to take up the space we have, right?"
No, definitely not hallucinating. Scar spoke directly into his ear, hot breath hitting his cheek as he did so. It made Grian tense, a dangerous warmth starting in his gut. Then, as if the situation wasn't mind-boggling enough, Scar began to rub little circles into his hips.
Grian bit down hard on his tongue to keep from shrieking.
"G? You still with me?" Scar had a peculiar edge to his words. It only took a few seconds to pinpoint what it was. "Being awfully quiet right now…"
The bastard was smiling! Grian could hear it in his voice! While he was fighting tooth and nail to keep his years long crush from rising to the surface, Scar was having the time of his life!
Mortified and a little offended, Grian snapped, "What's so funny?"
"Nothing, nothing," Scar said, in a tone that implied there was absolutely something.
"I don't buy that for a second," Grian hissed. He reached up, missed the first time, and eventually managed to get his fists curled into the collar of Scar's shirt. It earned him another round of snickering. "Seriously, what kind of trouble's up your sleeves tonight? Are you just determined to make these next few minutes hell for me?"
"Oh? Little ole me?" Scar feigned innocence. "How could I possibly be bothering you, G? All I've done is get comfortable."
Further adding to the issue, he gave Grian's hips a teasing squeeze.
"Ugh," Grian groaned. "You know exactly—"
"Do I?"
Grian stopped, frustration dissipating. He realized, all at once, what that would imply. If Scar understood what he was doing, understood how his actions affected Grian, then that meant he was aware of why it was working so well too.
Oh God.
Scar knew Grian liked him.
Horror crept up his throat and squeezed out his oxygen. The idea that his biggest secret — the one he'd been too afraid to tell even Mumbo about — wasn't as well kept as he thought was terrifying. Grian had slipped up, revealed a vulnerable part of himself without realizing it. And it was backfiring on him.
Wait.
It was backfiring on him.
Scar knew Grian liked him, and still chose to tease him like this.
A joke like that was far too cruel for a man as sweet as Scar. To fake acceptance of someone's feelings was at the top of the list of things friends didn't do to the people they cared about. That was common knowledge.
Which left one possible answer.
There was no world in which Scar would respond to him this way unless he genuinely felt the same.
Grian let out a shaky breath of disbelief.
Scar liked him too.
A surge of emotions rushed up to take him. Grian couldn't wrap his head around the concept, but the moment it settled in his mind, he knew it to be true. Scar liked him too, and that was an undeniable fact.
Scar liked him when they walked in the party. He liked him when he agreed to hang around the seven minutes game. He liked him when they got shoved in a closet together. And he liked him right now.
Grian shivered as a thrill rocketed up his spine, and then he was moving without a second thought. He used his grip on Scar's collar to drag him down. The other went easily, willingly, gladly, and their lips crashed together.
It wasn't perfect — not by a long shot. The darkness obscured their views, meaning that even with their endless want, they were not really able to aim. Scar had to pull back and dive in again to ensure their mouths were fully interlocked, and Grian had to readjust his hand placement three times to be satisfied with his hold on his companion.
Still, it was everything. A wanton heat drove their connection, bringing them closer and closer together. Scar's knees slotted between Grian's, and his palms wander to thumb at the edge of his shirt. Grian couldn't help but sigh into the kiss as skin met skin.
Scar parted them briefly to gasp out, "I've been wanting to…"
Grian kissed him, stealing the words, and he felt Scar smile at his eagerness. They broke apart again.
"I've been wanting to kiss you all night," Scar said, shaky in the most delicious way. Grian let their lips ghost over one another, and delighted in the shudder it earned him. He was only half listening, but his companion kept going. "The whole year, honestly. I came to this party intending to confess to you no matter what."
Grian snorted. "Hell of a way to do it."
Scar had wanted to kiss him for at least a year. Wasn't that a beautiful sentiment? It only made Grian yearn to reconnect even more.
"Yeah, you might have gotten to it first," the other mused. "But I've won either way."
Even though it couldn't be seen, Grian rolled his eyes. "Enough chatter. We're running out of time."
He snaked his arms around the back of Scar's neck and they collided once more. His head went empty, stomach turning again and again. The feeling of Scar's hands on his hips, cold underneath his shirt, both soothed and worsened his butterflies. Grian wanted more.
Scar parted his lips, deepening the kiss. Grian melted into it. One hand left his side, though he wasn't sure why.
Then, the door handle jiggled. On the other side, Jimmy's voice called, "Alright, lovebirds! Your seven minutes are up! Time to come out."
Grian's eyes flew open, and chilling terror took over the moment's warmth. Scar, however, did not stop kissing him. It seemed he wasn't worried in the slightest. A second later, Grian figured out why.
"Wh—! Hey!" Jimmy sounded appalled. The door rattled a bit, but did not budge. "I think it's stuck!"
Scar pulled away to whisper in Grian's ear. "It's alright. I'm holding it shut."
Someone tried again to yank it open, but it still didn't move. Grian's brows raised, impressed. Scar must have predicted their time was almost up.
"Shoot," Tango sighed. "It totally is. I might have some extra oil in my truck. Want to come with me to get it, Jimmy? I'm parked a few blocks over."
A knock reached them.
"Stay put, guys," Jimmy told them. "We'll get you out of there as fast as we can!"
They heard receeding footsteps, and then it was just the two of them left alone again.
"Seems like you bought us a few more minutes," Grian remarked. "What do you plan to do with all that time?"
He felt more than he heard Scar's smile.
"I've got a couple of ideas."