Archive of Our Own

The first time he let Scar close, Grian was afraid.

The sun set and it was freezing in the desert at night. A million stars, hanging in the sky all pin pricks against an inky black. Grian couldn't fly in this world, but he still wasn't afraid of heights, sitting on his heels on the top of their castle made of sand, watching the mobs fight beyond their cactus ring, eyes out for intruders. He was shivering.

"Grian." Scar called up, in question.

Grian leaned over the edge to see his partner leaning out the window, frowning, searching for him, and a wash of relief when he spotted the flightless bird on his perch.

"Hey. Come on. We've got a lot to do tomorrow." Scar encouraged, hand out.

"I'm watching." Grian said, the words harsh and dry in his throat.

"You're becoming a Grian-sicle." Scar said with a light, but nervous humour. "Come on."

Beckoning. Charm and wit, even in the middle of the night. Grian was weak, and cold, and he shuffled down on his heels. No fear at heights, even if the clipped wings behind him would be nothing more than weights if he fell.

But there was a different flash of fear when Scar extended out his broad hand to help him back inside. Grian took it, even as his heart beat with foreboding against the back of his tongue.

Scar shuffled him to the bed, urging him to lay down, folding the scratchy blankets overtop his shivering figure and stepping away. Except that Grian, still terrified, couldn't find it in himself to let go kept his grip on his hand and made Scar jerk back as he tried to walk away.

"Sorry." Grian said, and let go, drawing his hand into his chest.

"Do you want me to stay?" Scar asked, cautious, looking down with eyes flicking over Grian's body language that was screaming yes.

While his mouth said, "No."

"As you wish." Scar said, giving a lop-sided smile, beginning to leave again.

"Wait." Grian said, and Scar stopped immediately, like a puppet tied to his words. He tipped his head back towards the blonde.

"Are you cold?" Grian asked.

It was obvious which one of them was cold. Grian was shivering like mad, teeth audible past the light whistle of uninterrupted desert wind. Scar was shirtless and unmoved by any of the chill.

So it must've been a lie when he said, "Yeah."

Grian was happy to take the lie, to take the excuse. He opened his arm, lifting the blanket in invitation.

Something unreadable in Scar's expression, immediately washed with fondness and care. He picked back over to the bed and crawled underneath the blanket.

"What's the plan, here?" Scar asked, crowding close but not doing much else. There wasn't too much room to get comfortable without getting into each other's space, so Scar was right on the edge.

"We've only got each other, right? So let's get warm." Grian's face certainly got warm enough with the offer, a growing pink.

"Like this?" Scar said, moving slow, with lots of opportunity for Grian to call it off. He didn't. Instead he let his partner gather his shivering form into his arms and press together, legs intertwining, arms behind back and head. The touch-warm skin. Grian felt the heat immediately begin to seep into his, moment by moment, until he relaxed and his shivering finally abated.

"Thanks." Scar said.

"You're welcome." Grian replied, keeping up their absolutely ridiculous fiction for the situation. He was so incredibly lucky to have a partner that understood him.

Grian leaned back, eyes adjusted to the night enough he could see Scar's face and find him already looking back, that fondness growing to something almost unbearable to look at, like staring into the sun. Grian's heart hurt and he amended his thought process. He was incredibly lucky to have Scar.

It was too late for thoughts like these. Neither of them felt awake, playing a weird game together and there wouldn't be a winner. Far too many meaningless words and fictions between them. Grian moved his hands, skating them up Scar's neck to cradle his face, tipping his head to the side in contemplation as he rode out the emotions and sensations inside him. The burn of affection, dangerous. The unrelenting tide of fear. Breathless, like being punched in the chest.

Scar went completely still, hands loose around his waist, like he was afraid Grian would spook if he moved even a muscle. His lips parted, but no words came.

Grian met his eyes, that build up inside him impossible to ignore but equally impossible to surrender. He let their foreheads fall together, keeping their blazing gaze locked, but didn't get any closer.

He knew that Scar would let him. Everything in the look he was being given in return told him that if he closed the distance, he would be given nothing but that blazing affection in full form.

Instead he sucked in a surprised breath, the surprise towards himself at being so fucking stupid, and let his head fall into Scar's chest instead.

The hands hesitant on his waist tightened and pulled him closer, as if to say, this is okay too.

Grian cursed himself in his mind, unsure if he hated himself more because he tried or because he failed. But in the morning, all of the thoughts from the night before were gone. All of the stars and the inky black were gone, and all that was left was Scar's huge hands gripping him close and his leg between Scar's thighs and his nose pressed into Scar's shoulder. All of him surrounded by all of that, and the unfortunate feeling that he'd never been so fucking close to something he wanted while also nowhere near it.

The grip on him was tight, and Grian whispered, "Let me go."

Even in his sleep, Scar did as he was told, and the hands loosened. Grian got up, not turning to look at him as he left to start the day. Too early and not rested but fucking warm, which the rising desert sun took no mercy on him.

Scar joined him later, no fear on his face. Grian saw that and thought there should be. Maybe he just needed to have enough for the both of them.

[]

The second time that Grian let him close, he was nervous.

Despite the flightless nature of his clipped wings, it did not stop them from becoming worn out and dirty. He was still rather expressive with them, and if he rolled around in the dirt or crashed through the bushes, the wings took a beating as well.

Nothing upset him more than looking at his own wings, tarnished and dull, but especially clipped. The sight of a perfect cut line through his primaries was emotionally devastating, almost as much as the feeling of groundedness whenever he spread his wings.

He oscillated between ignoring their condition and desperately preening them where he could reach. Grian knew the rules, knew it had to happen to play, but he still would give anything for a taste of the air, the swoop in his stomach, the thing he was most natural at. He couldn't stop looking. He couldn't look at them, both at the same time.

This meant that the act of preening was somewhat filled with more panic than it really needed. He'd grown ill at the feeling in his wings, full of twigs from running through the trees and instinctively trying to throw them out to counterbalance. It was a constant itch, a burning, a breathlessness. He certainly felt like he couldn't breathe as trembling fingers tried to comb out the pointy sticks and ferns and prickles in his dulled feathers.

"Grian! I brought lunch!" Scar greeted from below, coming up the steps.

"In a minute!" Grian replied, trying to curb the panic in his voice and not quite managing.

"Oh? What's up?" Scar ignored, coming in with stew and setting it aside immediately when he saw Grian contorted to try and reach his back feathers. "Did you get something in them? Does it hurt?"

"Nothing big." Grian let go of his wings, letting them fall back into place, face flushing. "I just-- I can't preen them properly and they're full of-- nevermind, it doesn't matter. Where'd you get stew?"

"Made it." Scar dismissed that train of thought immediately, sitting beside him and offering, hands in the air, "Do you want me to get them? That's a rough angle."

Grian hesitated for a long moment. He said, cautious, "It's not quite that easy, preening is..."

"Personal?" Scar guessed, dropping his hands to his lap and giving a lop-sided smile. "Sorry. I can leave you to it. I just think it'd be hard to reach all the way behind yourself."

That hesitation stayed. He didn't know how much he trusted Scar with something as delicate and sensitive as this. But really, the earnestness in his eyes and the immediate willingness to offer said a lot more than any previous experience wing preening.

"I'll get back to it. Let's have lunch." Grian compromised.

Scar reached over and handed them a bowl each. Grian ignored his twitching wings as they ate, annoyed at the interruption mid-way through cleaning. They discussed their next move, even as Grian's brain was half a mile away, floating somewhere waiting for his task to be finished.

"I don't mean to pry, but how do you normally get the back feathers? I've never seen them get so dirty." Scar asked almost as soon as they were done eating, looking over his shoulder at the dull colours.

Grian sighed. "I've a machine at home to help, gets the places I can't reach."

"That's awfully impersonal for something so important." Scar frowned.

"I'm fine." Grian brushed him off. "And it doesn't help me at all now, because it's not here. If you..."

How stupid was he? But Scar did offer, and he wasn't moving away. Grian sighed, and said hiding his nerves, "If you just want to get the parts I can't reach, I'd really appreciate it."

"Sure thing. Tell me how to do it properly so I don't mess it up?" Scar asked, lit up with a bright, pleased smile.

"It's not... it's not too hard. Just make all the feathers lie the same way and tug any out that are loose or broken. Then brush off all the dirt and sticks and stuff that's on and between them." Grian shrugged, trying to make this more casual than it really was. It was actually intensely, intensely private and personal and nerve wracking to allow Scar to help. He'd never even let anyone in Hermitcraft help, let alone a situation like Third Life.

But it was painful and distracting and might get them killed. There was no reason to fear Scar fucking up back there because they were already clipped anyway. If anything, they were a liability.

Grian could never think that about his wings. They were too important to him. It made this all so much harder.

"Here, let me get a good angle." Scar encouraged Grian to turn around, which he did slowly. He sat cross legged, elbows on his knees, and stretched out his left wing for Scar to inspect.

An awed little, "Woah," fell from Scar's lips.

"They're dirty." Grian reminded, even as his face burnt at Scar's reaction.

"They're always gorgeous." Scar replied, a little huff of air. "They just need a little love, which I am happy to give."

"Shut up." Grian said, dizzy with anticipation.  It shivered all the way through him, especially when fingertips brushed where his wings met his back, the hardest part to reach.

"Shutting up." Scar replied, and began to preen. His hands were larger but incredibly gentle, moving with caution and care. Plucking out a twig that had Grian's bones melting with relief, tugging a feather that tingled his scalp, and brushing the colourful feathers back into shine. Just the base of his back and up a few inches.

"Do you want me to do the rest?" Scar asked, stopping as soon as he'd done what Grian couldn't reach.

Grian couldn't probably stand up on how wobbly his knees were right now, let alone have enough coordination to finish the job when he was dizzy with relief and anguish. He said, strained, "If you don't mind."

"I would be honoured." Scar said, with completely sincere grace that could've floored him if he wasn't already wrecked. As Scar moved along, continuing the work, that feeling grew like a deafening white noise in his ears, folding him over until he tugged his knees up to hide his face in, burning with all the sensations. Touch. Care. Love.

Scar.

The hands gentle on his clipped primaries likely would've made him cry if Grian had half of any brain power. As it was, he merely flinched, remembering the feeling of the cut through the precious feathers.

"Shh." Scar soothed, stroking the base of his primaries and keeping what was left clean. "You're okay. I've got you."

Grian choked out, "Scar."

"Almost done." Scar promised, but that wasn't it at all. He wanted to stay here forever, his hands taking care of him. He didn't deserve a second of it. He didn't ever want to go back to that stupid machine ever again. Now that he knew the way his brain would go fuzzy and his body would helplessly submit in trust and love, it was the most fucking terrifying experience of his life and he wanted to do it a million more times.

"All finished." Scar said, letting his hands fall away from the wings. Slowly, Grian curled them to his back and tried to breathe through his nose and regain his bearings. Everything was spinning and floating.

When he didn't say anything, Scar asked, more nervously, "Did I do okay?"

"Yeah." Grian breathed. "Sorry. It screws me up a bit."

"In a bad way?" Scar asked, a note of panic, of concern.

"In a vulnerable way." Grian forced himself to raise his head and meet Scar's eyes. "They're very sensitive. It feels... a lot."

"Does it hurt?"

"No more than it helps." Grian shook his head, trying to clear it. Doesn't work. "Thank you, Scar. I appreciate it, even if they're no good here. It still...."

"They're a part of you." Scar's fond smile was too much. "I'm beyond thrilled you trust me enough to help. I know even clipped, you let me put your life in my hands. And you never let anyone touch them. I don't undervalue that at all."

Grian's throat clogged. It was raspy when he said, "It's a necessity."

"One I'm glad you're willing to do. I like helping you." Scar stood up, stretching luxuriously. "What do you think? Are you wanting a nap before we cause some more mayhem?"

"I don't need a nap." Grian said, offended, even as he still gripped the bed as he rose himself, knees wobbling but holding. "I'm more than capable of mayhem."

"Then let's depart." Scar gestured grandly at the door, something sparkling in his yellow eyes.

Grian threw him a smile over his shoulder as he left instead of trying to figure out what it was.

[]

The third time, Grian was tense.

Scar was red. He had flowers in his inventory that he kept pulling out and thumbing the petals until they fell off. Red meant Scar could die and be gone forever at any moment. That shouldn't have made him feel as sick to his stomach as it did.

But it did. And Grian was tense. He was anxious, he was thinking of all the possible ways things could go wrong. All the possible ways he could lose Scar. He didn't know why it mattered so much. He knew exactly why.

Grian came back from grinding to find Scar waiting up for him, a hesitant smile underneath red eyes.

"You didn't have to wait up." Grian told him as a greeting, immediately dumping all his loot in a double chest, not bothering to sort any of it.

"I didn't have to, yeah." Scar replied.

Nothing changed as Grian emptied his inventory and turned to face his partner. Scar was looking back at him, looking like he might say something. Grian couldn't decide if he wanted to know what he'd say, if it was going to be something he wanted to hear or something he'd want to run from.

Instead, Grian brushed past him and went to pace, continuing to torture himself running through various scenarios, plots, worst case scenarios.

"We've got this, Grian." Scar encouraged, from where he was watching, heading swivelling with his motions.

"That was before you fell in a ravine, Scar. We don't got this." Grian replied, sharper.

"Hey." Scar said, with a charming, coaxing smile. "Come 'ere."

Grian paused, eyeing him uncertainly.

Scar merely gestured him closer, waiting. No hurry, eyes sparkling. Red.

It was incredibly stupid to trust him, to bring his green life into the hands of a fresh red one. But he felt almost transfixed as he approached, wondering what Scar wanted to do.

"Sit." Scar pat beside him. "We're going to relax."

"We are?" Grian asked, skeptical.

"We are." Scar replied, sure, and continued in a musical voice, "We are going to wash our cares away and just settle into a calm, relaxing environment."

"You're full of it." Grian was not about to be bought with pieces of paper like everyone else. He felt like he was the only sane one in a room full of idiots.

"I'm full of good times." Scar winked, and pat beside him again.

"Is that an innuendo?" Grian finally sat.

"Only if you want it to be." Scar did not fluster, unmoved. He seemed to be on a mission for something.

Grian had no idea what that was, and wasn't eager to find out. He was worried. He was excited. Especially when Scar said, "You're so tense, Grian."

"I wonder why." Grian replied, sarcastically, gesturing at their general circumstances and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, that's fair. But you don't need to be." Scar leaned just a little closer, and said, "Can I help?"

"What's your plan? Beyond falling in another ravine?"

"You need to let that go." Scar laughed, and said, "I'm going to help you untense. It's very important, or else you cut off blood flow to your brain, did you know that? And we can't have our top strategist incapacitated, can we? It's really just economical to the team."

"Economical." Grian repeated, unimpressed. But also, a little bit horribly tempted and curious what Scar was planning on doing. "If you think you can help the team, go ahead."

"My pleasure." Scar practically purred, getting a little closer again. "Just say the word if you want me to stop."

Grian for whatever reason wasn't actually expecting Scar to touch him and jumped a mile when the hands brushed his shoulders. Just barely there, but still made the tension only rank up a million times higher.

"What are you doing?" Grian asked, in a voice that was almost comically high.

"Massage." Scar said, plainly, not moving to touch more. "I'm very good at them, I promise."

He crossed his hands over his heart. Grian's own heart was racing, thudding in his ears and flushing his face. There was no way he was going to let his guard down like that and let himself be vulnerable with a red life.

But he'd let Scar touch his wings as a yellow, and those were arguably more precious. Through his shoulders were awfully close to his neck, his carotid artery. Was it safe?

This was Scar. The person he was the most danger to was himself. He was just offering because he wanted to help, and Grian would be stupid to deny him. Wouldn't he? He had no idea what the right choice was anymore. He had no idea where his mind had gone, and it was like someone else possessed his body as he nodded, allowing Scar to continue.

Scar twirled a finger, telling him to turn around. Grian did so, slowly, waiting for the touch again. Tense, and tenser still when his hands brushed his shoulders. For a moment, they just stayed there, overtop his jumper, waiting.

Grian breathed. In and out. It took a few long moments, but Scar carefully dug his thumbs into his shoulder blades, working into the rock-solid tense muscles there. Unable to see Scar's face, he found himself turning red as he imagined what his partner thought of his stupid tense self.

Scar told him, leaning close to his ear and muttering, "Relax, will you?"

"Have you met me?" Grian snapped back, flushed.

"Let your guard down just a little, okay? It's not gonna hurt." Scar offered.

That was exactly what Grian didn't want. He exhaled harshly through his nose, "Again, you know me. Come on."

"I do know you." His clever fingers moved against his shoulders, prodding, insistent. "I know that you've got about a hundred layers of defense, some disguised as ease, and I'd like to see if you could actually maybe take a break for like ten minutes and let someone else take care of you."

"You don't know what you're asking." Grian replied, still stubbornly refusing to release any tension holding in his shoulders.

"It's not going to kill you."

"It might." Grian muttered.

"Then you've still got two more lives." Scar said, a little amused. "But I don't think a little care and compassion will actually kill you."

Grian didn't bother another witty reply. He was too busy fighting the urge to relax on Scar's truly wonderful massage skills, that were rather insistently breaking down all of his walls, and it was taking all of his focus to keep them up.

Then Scar smoothed his hands where his shoulders met his neck and pressed on a muscle knot that made him see white. He whined in the back of his throat.

Scar chuckled, and did it again. Grian said, completely breathless with it, "I'm going to kill you."

"Of course you are." Scar replied, sounding remarkably unconcerned. Likely with how weak Grian's threat was. He was losing this battle, his skin feeling like it was covered in electricity, his mind losing its race, his body sinking into the touch. Leaning back into Scar, jaw unclenching, and another horribly embarrassing whine breaking past his lips.

"There you go." Scar praised, with a distinct amount of smugness. The bastard.

"I'm going to hang you from the rafters." Grian growled out.

"Yes dear, wait until I'm finished." Scar sing-songed.

Grian wanted to retort, but he was truly putty in his partner's hands. All vulnerability and weakness, a weapon completely disarmed. He wanted to run away. He never wanted to leave.

Scar seemed to have endless patience, even after surely all the knots were gone and Scar was just tenderly rubbing his shoulders, humming something under his breath as he worked. There was no rush to stop, and maybe Grian was going to have to say something if it was ever going to end. He didn't think he was strong enough.

But Scar did finally stop, leaning over to his ear once more to gently ask, "Good?"

All his snark was discarded, left somewhere on the floor with his pride. He breathed, "Yeah."

"Good." Scar let go, and it took all his remaining will power not to whine at the loss of contact. He wanted to feel Scar lean closer, to put his lips on his neck. He wanted to let him touch him. He was going to lose his mind.

Scar didn't say anything about it, he just offered to take a nap, like he had after the preening. Grian declined again, though it was much harder than last time. He was practically not a person, just a mess and couldn't imagine doing anything ever again.

But he was nothing if resilient, and got up and continued on.

[]

The fourth time Grian let Scar close, it wasn't on purpose.

They were running. A con gone wrong and right, and they needed to hide. They slipped underneath a hill, listening to their pursuers, and trying to muffle themselves from getting caught. All of the sudden, the two of them were too close, knees slotted and Grian gripping Scar's elbow to keep upright in the tight space.

There was nothing to do but wait it out. But Grian felt a line of heat from every point where he and Scar intersected, like there was a heat brand searing him. Reminding him that letting people close was dangerous. Letting him know that letting people close was addicting, because he wanted more.

That hand on Scar's elbow jumped up to his bicep, clutching him closer on the guise of shushing him as his partner suffocated a giggle in his throat. He didn't mean to be here, like this, desperate not to be caught and killed. Desperate to stay exactly where they were until the end of time.

It was hard to tell if they were gone, if they were safe. Grian leaned around the corner and felt Scar tug him back into place, whispering, "Careful!"

"I'm always careful." Grian said, smiling wide, and squeezed Scar's bicep as he tried again to spot if anyone was looking for them. Scar kept his hold on him, a breath stuttering in his throat, and it was about that moment that Grian realized their close proximity was making Scar the one to turn red this time.

That was rather fun. Much more fun than the chasers on their tail. He swung back into place, ignoring his previous goal of looking around the corner and lined himself up toes to chest with Scar, giving a crooked smile. "We should wait a little longer, but I think they're gone." His voice hushed.

Scar was staring at him with very wide eyes, like he wasn't sure what to do at all. It was incredibly endearing. He'd been steadying Grian by the waist but now his hands hovered just above, like he wasn't sure he was allowed to touch. Hilarious, considering every other inch of their body was flushed together.

"Okay?" Grian asked, nudging their toes together.

Scar didn't seem to want to look away. His hands settled on Grian's hips, cautiously, with intent, pulling him even closer.

In that moment, Grian realized that he'd done more than just make Scar breathless. There was a hard heat against his thigh, and Scar's pupils were dilated wide. A shuddering breath.

Grian was nothing but an opportunist, and he could not deny himself to be something of a tease. He smiled the moment he realized what was going on, with all his teeth, wondering what part of this situation turned Scar on. Was it the proximity? Was it the muffled laughter and burning smiles? Was it the danger of getting caught?

"You're amazing." Scar breathed, eyes flickering up and down.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Grian said, licking his lips and being very very evil when he shifted the thigh that had Scar's hard on against it.

"Oh." Scar gasped, hands on Grian's waist spasming like they were stopping from pulling him closer.

Grian's fingers on his biceps crawled a little higher, feeling his neck then sliding behind his head, intertwining in Scar's hair. Grian enjoyed the jump of his pulse on his throat and leaned closer to feel it against his mouth. Not a kiss, just barely a touch, hovering extremely close.

Then he breathed on Scar's neck, "Do I make you nervous?"

It was quite obvious what Grian made him, but he was kind enough not to point it out. However, he was not kind enough to not gently rub his thigh against the heavy weight, wondering the size, wondering the skill. It felt like a lot. Grian himself couldn't stop his own from getting hard at the idea that he'd made Scar like this. That this amazing man in front of him might let him...

"Every day of my life." Scar admitted, shakily. His fingers snuck underneath the hem of his jumper and made Grian shiver at the touch on his skin.

"Are you going to do something about it?" Grian asked, almost curious. Academic. Leaning back just enough to see Scar's face.

"Do you want me to?" Scar said, serious. Absolutely intent.

Grian wished he had a straight forward answer to that question. He wished any thought he had in his mind about Scar was clear cut or made any damn sense. Instead, he breathed out slowly through his nose. And he stepped back.

"I think they've left." Grian said, instead of answering the question. He didn't know the answer.

"I think so too." Scar agreed, and didn't say anything else about what they'd almost done.

[]

The fifth time Grian let Scar close, he felt like he was being chased.

Like there was something hounding him, following him around every corner. He was yellow. Scar was red. The end was coming, one way or another. There wouldn't be time.

He should've left. He didn't know if Scar expected him to leave, after all that they'd been through. But he didn't. A hundred moments rang in his mind, playing over and over, but at the end of the day he couldn't let Scar die. Not with everything he put into protecting him.

He was yellow. Scar was red. The end was near and Grian couldn't stop wondering what would happen.

"We're going to win." Scar promised him, surrounded by sand and sun and it was going to be over soon.

And Grian couldn't stop thinking about the word 'we'. Because wasn't Scar thinking about the end? Wasn't he thinking that there was no 'we' in the end, there was only a winner?

Someone was going to die and Grian was terrified. He'd let Scar close too many times, and it was going to kill him. Grian or Scar, he didn't even know. He didn't want to do this anymore. He wanted to call a halt. They were so close to winning. They'd never been further away.

"Can I give you something?" Grian asked, because he was sure that if he didn't, he would just perish on the spot. There were no options left. There was only this, there was only a ticking clock. Not enough time.

"Anything." Scar said, entirely too sincere. Grian didn't have time for that. Instead, he marched up to his partner and grabbed his stupid face and looked into his eyes.

If that wasn't what Scar was expecting, he certainly didn't seem like it. Instead, he gave a dopey smile and said, "Hey you."

"Hey." Grian said, wavering. He was losing his nerve. He never had any to begin with. The entire world was ending. The entire world was within his two hands.

So Grain kissed him. He had to rock up onto his tip toes and drag Scar's head down to him, capturing his mouth in a desperate attempt to do something about the fact that every single time he looked at his partner he felt as if he might spontaneously combust. He felt as if the sand itself had nothing on the grit on his heart, wormed into the crevices and never to be brushed away.

Grian kissed Scar with every piece of messy contradiction he had.

Scar, to his credit, only hesitated for about a tenth of a second before he wound his arms around Grian's waist and lifted him off his feet, kissing back with all the enthusiasm and passion that he'd expect from the man. He spun Grian in a circle then put him back on weak knees. Then dipped him, kissing deeper, more intently, making the world narrow to a heart pounding focus of just Scar, just this moment, just this kiss.

Dizzy and light headed, Grian pulled away, helpless to the smile on his face. He clutched Scar's head and neck, the only thing keeping him upright, and Scar was busy showering kisses on the corner of Grian's smiling mouth, then his jaw, and down his neck.

"Scar!" Grian said, giving a delighted and fuzzy laugh, fingers spasming in Scar's hair as tingles ran down his body at the freely given and constant affection.

"Sorry, can't talk, too busy." Scar replied between insistent kisses.

Grian grabbed him by his cheeks, squishing them together and dragging him back to eye level, instead of practically folding Grian over at the force of his affection. He said, "You're incorrigible."

"I'm taking every damn inch that you'll give me because I don't want to lose my chance." Scar replied, immediate and honest. "Tell me to stop and I will."

Grian opened his mouth and was unable to reply because Scar swept him off his feet again, making his stomach swoop like he was flying for the first time since he'd gotten his fucking wings clipped. He said, again, in a higher tone, "Scar!"

"Can't hear you!" Scar pulled him up and Grian almost reflexively wrapped his legs around Scar's waist. Then they were kissing again, without really intending to. He was sure he was going to stop this. He was sure this had immediately gone out of his control.

He was sure that if he stopped kissing Scar, he might actually die. The large hands holding him up, the mouth with sweet intent and focus, seeking his lips and chasing them back with every push and pull. That light headed feeling swum closer and closer to the surface until Grian pulled away to literally gasp for air.

"You're evil." Grian breathed, unable to think even a little bit straight. He couldn't focus on anything but Scar, Scar, Scar. It was dangerous. This was not something he should've started.

"You're an angel." Scar replied, with a huge, absolutely bonkers smile. It was heart breaking. Grian wanted to eat glass.

Instead, he loosened his legs and dropped them. Scar didn't move away until Grian tugged, then he released. A flash of grief, which smoothed into neutrality. He said, "What were you going to give me, Grian?"

Idiot. Grian smacked his stupid chest and didn't answer the question.

[]

The sixth time Grian let Scar close, he killed him.

He'd like to say that he didn't know this was going to happen, but he did. Later, he'd wonder if Scar had betrayed him on purpose, to inspire his rage and get him willing to kill him. He'd wonder if Scar was running into the cactus on purpose. He'd wonder if Scar was never going to ever kill him, never going to actually lay a hand on him like that. And what the hell it said about Grian that he did.

Grian was kneeling on Scar's chest, apologizing that he was killing him, and it occurred to him that all of his fears about getting close were not only valid but vital. He was only a harbinger of pain, and he should've trusted his gut.

Did it matter now? Grian killed his partner and then himself. That was done.

[]

Except it wasn't.

The real problem came that during Third Life you forget that there will be an after and you will go home. Back to Hermitcraft, back to the world were respawns were infinite and Scar was your neighbour, not your partner.

Grian lost that somewhere in the desert sand. He'd lost his mind, actually. Upon getting home his fear of others getting close only increased to a dangerous level, one that meant he was locking himself into projects and brushing off offers to hang out.

Everyone knew Third Life was a game. Grian had no idea how he'd managed to forget. How he'd gotten so caught up in himself that he'd... fallen.

Everyone else got over it. Everyone else moved on. Or at least, it felt like it. It wasn't like Grian actually had any frame of reference for what everyone else was doing, because he wasn't interacting with them at all.

Not even Scar. This was a particularly sore wound, because they'd spent every second together for what felt like eons, time stretching out in endless vast expanses as the two of them took over the world. Now they just had each other, and Grian wouldn't even let them have that.

It felt like starting over from zero. Worse than that, it was like starting in the negative.

Scar was certainly persistent in his attempts to visit, but Grian could out stubborn any day of the week. Dodging Mumbo was child's play, and avoiding Iskall was nothing. He was a champion self-isolator; he'd just never had reason before to show Hermitcraft that.

Unfortunately, there was someone outside of Hermitcraft who knew his tendencies and also knew how to circumvent them, and thy name is Pearl.

"Oh, can't stay to chat, Pearl." Grian dismissed the moment she arrived, pretending the shulker he was packing up was finished and not the nearly empty it was, putting it in his inventory and starting to flee. He had an Elytra strapped to his back, something he hated but it was necessary as he waited for the clipped primaries to moult.

"Can you help me?" Pearl interrupted, standing with her feet apart and a brazen, ready expression on her face. She was blocking the door.

Grian visibly hesitated. "With what?"

"My wings." Pearl let the moth wings flutter behind her, with an arrow caught in the bottom.

"Oh no." Grian said, approaching with his hands out, all thoughts of fleeing forgotten. "Of course, of course. You don't want to see if it will clear in respawn?"

"They're too delicate." Pearl responded, which was true. Wing injuries sometimes carried over in respawn, like how they could be clipped or need preening.

"Here? Or your place?"

"Here is fine, if you have the materials." Pearl said.

"Absolutely." Grian encouraged her to sit and pulled out his red stocked medical shulker. With great care, he crouched beside Pearl and worked on removing the arrow and tending to the wing.

"You know," Pearl began, leaning back on her hands and breathing even and steady. "You're really freaking your friends out."

Grian's heart skipped a beat, and he realized how close they were. He remembered all his internal vows to push people away. As much as he wanted to, in that moment, Pearl was hurt and needed his help. No one else on the server had real wings like they did, they wouldn't be able to help like he could. He said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't pretend I don't know what you're doing." Pearl said, poking him in the side with her toe. "You have an overinflated sense of personal responsibility. You feel like the events of that game are your fault, whether or not they are."

"They were." Grian muttered, thinking about beating his partner to death with his bare hands. Who can pretend that wasn't an immediate blame? If anything, he felt as if he had exactly the right amount of personal responsibility, if not enough. Maybe if he had enough, he'd take mercy on those he hurt and remove himself from Hermitcraft entirely.

"Hey." Pearl said, sharper, and snapped at Grian. "Look at me. Everyone is alive and well, despite whatever happened there. And they're alive and worried about you, Grian. They don't know what to do with a pesky bird that hides and runs from them. They don't know this is how you protect yourself, so they're thinking they've done something wrong. Is that what you want?"

Damn Pearl. Damn her. She knew exactly all the holes in his armour, all the weaknesses. How to pin him down and talk sense into him using his own complexes against him.

"They're better off--" Grian didn't manage to finish his weak protest.

"Bullshit, you can't make choices for people. Right?"

This was said with a dangerous amount of inflection, something that Grian should've picked up on before she'd even gotten that far. It wasn't fair. He wrinkled his nose and said, "It's not like that."

"Deciding to remove yourself from their lives without giving them a chance to choose one way or another sounds like it to me." Pearl's wings twitched. Then after a long moment, her tone and gaze softened. "Listen. You're just being a colossal idiot. Either talk to them or I'll lock you lot in a closet and force it to happen. Get it done yourself before I fix your life for you."

"What would I do without you?" Grian said, with a pained sarcasm, and pulled his hands away from her damaged, but mended, wing. "You're all set."

"Thank you Grian." Pearl said. "Can I have a hug to thank you for your help?"

"If you must."

Pearl hugged him and squeezed so hard he saw stars. He loved her a lot. She was an absolute menace.

[]

The seventh time Grian let Scar close, it was a breath of fresh air.

Grian had missed his partner so much, and his friends. With the threat of Pearl intervening in ways he wouldn't approve, Grian tried to think how he was going to get over this. He tried to figure out if there was a way to pretend to get over it, to make Pearl happy.

Unfortunately pretending to get over something was the same as actually getting over it, and no matter what he thought of, there was no world where he could pretend to let people get close to him without actually allowing it.

So he just did, for now, the simplest thing he could think of. Which was the next time he saw Scar, he did not run away.

"Grian!" Scar called, fluttering nearby on his Elytra.

This was normally Grian's cue to burst off in a rocket spam and get as far away as possible. Scar was obviously expecting this as well, because he charged Grian at full speed.

"Slow down--" Grian said, turning to face him, only to be cut off by a full body tackle sending the two of them flying.

"Scar!" Grian shouted, instinctively holding on tight.

"Oh shoot, oh shoot." Scar murmured, obviously not expecting this, and turned to hold Grian to his chest and take the brunt of the fall. They crashed into the ground and rolled to a stop.

Grian was on top of him, immediately pushing up to inspect his partner after the fall, hands on Scar's chest. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." Scar said, dazed, looking up at him with a pained yet dopey expression. "You didn't run away from me."

"I can't run forever, can I?" Grian said, ignoring his hopeful eye contact and inspecting the ruined Elytra that had peeled off Scar's back from the crash.

"I certainly think you are more than capable of doing anything you set your mind to, including avoiding me. So if you didn't run, that means you want to see me. Right?" Scar said, excited.

Grian made a big show of rolling his eyes, even as all the emotions he'd been shoving down over and over popped up at the sight of Scar's elated face at his mere presence. "Don't read into it too much. Can you let me go now?"

"Sorry! Sorry." Scar released where he'd been clutching Grian's arms, letting the bird hybrid get off him and stand at full height. Then after a moment he turned and offered Scar a hand up.

"Thank you." Scar said, any disappointment he'd gained immediately wiped away at the action. "I was just so excited. I didn't mean to..."

Scar trailed off, leaving a lot unsaid. Grian had left a lot unsaid. Words left discarded in the blazing sun and coarse sand. He wasn't able to start articulating them now.

Scar didn't seem to expect him too. He said, "Jellie's missed you. Will you come say hi?"

That was weak and fragile. But it had been the longest he'd ever gone without Jellie cuddles, and it was a good excuse as any. "Yeah, alright."

He didn't get close again with Scar though he did nuzzle Jellie for a good twenty minutes, and really the expression of unbearable fondness of Scar's face it might as well have been himself.

[]

The eighth time, Grian felt like he'd swallowed a million butterflies.

Mumbo accepted him back with no question, because he was awkward and not about to call Grian out on his behaviour. He proceeded to bother him with the upcoming Gala being held on the Hermitcraft server, meant to be a night of gathering to discuss their plans for the season and have some fun. Grian had entirely missed the planning of the event, but Mumbo was more than willing to fill him in.

Grian tried not to get too invested, but then had an idea in the middle of the night to prank the Gala and asked Mumbo if he could have access to the venue before the event. Which led to dragging Mumbo into helping him build a redstone contraption that would drop squid onto the ballroom floor at his command.

"This is a terrible idea." Mumbo complained.

"You're only saying that because you didn't think of it first." Grian said, trying to work out how to drop the squid without also dropping the water, since he didn't want to drench everyone. He just wanted some floppy squids on the dance floor.

"I absolutely am not." Mumbo said, but he was grinning. He added, awkward as ever, "I'm glad you're more yourself, though."

"I'm always me." Grian replied, because the isolating hermit was just as much Grian as the one dropping squids on everyone. He appreciated the sentiment, however, and flashed Mumbo a reassuring smile.

He still didn't get too close.

It was formal dress, so Grian brought out his best crisp white shirt to wear with a red bow tie and velvet vest. Nothing too crazy, it was going to get squid on it anyway. Since Mumbo was the one insisting he attend, Mumbo was the one who escorted him to the event.

"Are you going to give me any warning before the room gets a lot more seafood?" Mumbo asked from the corner of his moustache as the two entered the venue in the early hours of the evening, one of the first to arrive.

"Ah, Mumbo." Grian said, cheerful.

"Cheers." Mumbo said, at the lack of meaningful response. "I need to make sure everything that was here on purpose is set up, are you going to help or be a nuisance?"

"Don't see how I can't be both." Grian said, and followed him as they checked the food, the music, and greeted everyone as they came in.

Grian was distracted by Pearl, ending up in the corner as they discussed troubles she'd been having with a farm. Grian was no expert but he loved a good troubleshoot, and let Pearl bounce ideas off him for a while.

Only to trail off mid-sentence when he saw Scar. His Scar, dressed to the nines, with an elaborate waistcoat that flared out in sheets of purple when he spun. And a huge, beaming smile on his gorgeous, handsome face.

"Wow," was all Grian managed to say, all thoughts gone.

"Wow yourself!" Scar beamed, clapping his hands and gesturing at Grian. "You clean up great! Are you excited for the Gala?"

"Yeah." Grian said, stupidly. He had no brain beyond Scar appreciation.

"Save me a dance, okay?" Scar winked, looking over Grian's shoulder and waving. "Hey Pearl!"

"Hi Scar." Pearl said, very warm. "Cub was looking for you earlier."

"Oh, there he is. Cub! Cub!" He bounced away, tails of his coat flaring.

"You know." Pearl said, lingeringly.

"I know." Grian replied, because he didn't want to have the conversation with her. He didn't want to talk about his feelings, he wanted to pretend that he had none.

Pearl sighed. "You're very frustrating, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Multiple times a day since I was born, I think." Grian replied, with not nearly enough humour. He needed to escape. "I'm getting a drink."

"At least dance with him." Pearl said, quickly, before he could leave.

Grian levelled her with a look that told her exactly what he thought of that.

"What could it hurt?" Pearl implored, a sad smile. "It'll make him happy."

Damn her, knowing to phrase it as a request for someone else instead of himself. He regretted her ever joining the server. He was so glad she was there. He gave a crooked smile and said, "I'll think about it."

Then he fled to the drink table. Mumbo took the stage and started the night off with some speeches and presentations. Grian stayed back, not quite leaving but not quite staying either. Leaning with against the wall and holding his drink as a prop. Trying to listen but mostly tracking Scar's progress around the Gala, as the man managed to get a smile out of every person he passed with something he said.

Scar was so inherently good, so wonderful and kind and carried so much genuine care inside him, it was a damn shame that he'd decided for some reason to waste his time on Grian. Someone who didn't deserve a second of his care, freely given, never rescinded, never hesitating. It was because he was a good person. And if Grian was smart, he'd stop taking advantage of that. He'd stop poisoning the man by accepting his arms on a cold night, his hands on wings and tense shoulder, his intent gaze, and most of all his offer to dance. 

It wasn't fair to Scar. It only led to explosions, plummeting into ravines, and bloody fists in a ring of cactus. Anyone who'd been close to Grian in the past regretted it. Scar would be just one more.

The speeches wrapped up, the buffet was picked over, and the lights dimmed. The jukebox started to play and Ren and Stress started the dance floor for everyone. Balls of energy. Other hermits joined, jamming to the music.

Not Scar, however. Even as the music changed songs a few times, the tall man was nowhere to be seen. Grian thought he might just appear at his side with a warm, 'Hello there'.

After scanning the dark room a few times, he spotted Scar. Sitting on the sidelines, now in his wheelchair. Without thinking, Grian pushed off the wall and crossed the room. Scar was alone, watching the dancing with a wistful smile.

"You could get in there." Grian said.

"Oh! Goodness!" Scar jumped a mile and held his heart. He turned to face Grian, chair and all, face breaking into his charming smile. "You scared me!"

"There's nothing saying dancing is only for those on their feet." Grian insisted, seeing the longing on Scar's face.

"I'm just taking a break." Scar said, envy clear before he shook his head and dislodged it. "I think I'll be good for that dance in just a few minutes!"

Not judging by the slight tremble in his hands. Grian didn't want Scar to push himself. The song changed to something slower, and the crowd of Hermits cheered, pairing up and laughing at their choices.

Grian said, "Come on, no need to stand on my account, I'll show you how it's done."

Scar seemed unsure, saying, "I don't think that'll work. I swear, I'll be good to dance normally in just a minute."

"I don't need normal, do I look normal?" Grian laughed, beckoning him again. "Seriously, it'll be fine, I promise."

Scar pushed away from his corner and Grian led him to the dance floor. Stress was spinning False in circles, laughing. Beef and Etho were doing something that looked more like fighting than dancing. Xisuma had a perfect form for a slow dance with Keralis, who was talking his ear off. Tango and Impulse and Zed had a dangerous looking three-way swing dance going. Pearl and Gem were having a dance off with Mumbo and Iskall.

Grian didn't feel intimidated at all in this company, in this weird crowd of family he had. If Scar wanted to dance but his legs were too tired, they could still dance. He said, "Are you sore or just tired?"

"Just tired." Scar replied.

"Good." Grian nodded, not wanting to hurt him. "Lock your chair for a second, tell me if I'm too heavy."

"Too heavy?" Scar repeated, locking his chair. His question was answered when Grian climbed on his lap, swinging his legs to one side and slinging his arms around Scar's neck.

"Oh." Scar said, lips parting at the sudden close proximity.

"Is it uncomfortable?" Grian asked.

"N-no." Scar said, unlocking his chair and slowly spinning them in a small circle to the music. Then with a bit more confidence, whizzing around and tipping back for a wheelie.

Grian laughed, stomach swooping, and clutched his neck tighter. Keeping his eyes on Scar's lashes against his cheek as he focused, only for them to fan up when he looked at Grian with awe. They danced.

"Having fun?" Grian asked.

"Yes." Scar replied, immediate sincere. "Are you? I barely saw you during the speeches."

"I was just listening." Grian lied. It was more like agonizing. Scar spun them in another circle and he held on tighter to his partner, suffocating a squeak in the back of his throat at the eruption of butterflies in his stomach.

"It was very interesting." Scar agreed, and he glanced at the sides. "I was going to remind you to watch your wings in my wheel but you don't have them out. Are they having troubles since Third Life?"

Grian did not want to talk about Third Life, or his wings that he bound to keep the useless things out of the way when he was using his Elytra. It pained him that he hadn't had a moult since the competition and he was stuck with the sheer cut primaries, not good for anything.

"Just needs more time." Grian said, shaking his head.

"It's a shame. I think they'd go a-mazing with that outfit." Scar raised a careful hand to brush the collar of his shirt.

Grian shivered and gave a tight smile. "Parrot feathers don't really go with anything."

"Oh contraire, my good sir! They go with everything." Scar beamed and expertly spun them on his wheels in a different direction.

Grian didn't bother arguing, letting Scar dance them around the floor between all the other pairs messing around. At one particularly fast spin he leaned closer, pulling his face to hide in Scar's shoulder, feeling him rumble a laugh around him. For a moment, it was just feeling of Scar, the feeling of playful fun, the feeling of closeness that caused horrible riots of butterflies in his stomach.

Threatening to pour out his mouth if he opened it and spoke. Instead, he stayed close and silent as long as the song lasted, then unfolded his weak legs off Scar's chair.

"Hopefully that was the dance you were hoping for." Grian said. "How good is your chair on cephalopods?"

"Fantastic. For both." Scar replied, with full confidence.

"Perfect." Grian said, moving to hit the button by the back door and release all the squids on the dancers.

[]

The ninth (?) time Grian let Scar close, he wasn't sure.

The two of them always ended up checking in on each other, whether on purpose or just because they happened to walk by and see the other working on something interesting. Their codependency was back in full swing, and Grian wished he had the strength to stop it from happening again.

Sometimes he would lie awake at night and remember the sheer enthusiasm Scar had when they kissed, wondering that was just Scar as a person or if it was because it was Grian. It was hard not to dream about it happening again and again, about getting to kiss Scar every time he saw him.

It was only himself stopping it from happening. He held himself back, like he always did.

But it felt like his bed was so empty and cold. He couldn't seem to sleep longer than a few hours at a time. And he was maybe going out of his way to annoy people so they'd interact with him. A long entrenched loneliness was rearing its ugly head, taking a seat and making itself comfortable.

Something about learning to ask for what he needed. As if Grian ever learnt anything, ever.

Grian woke up crying, phantoms of Scar's blood between his fingers. The breathless sobs kept punching him brutally in the chest every moment he felt like he might catch his breath. No matter how long he sat there in sweaty tangled sheets, the fear that Scar was dead and he killed him did not abate.

Shaking hands grabbed his communicator and DM'd Scar.

You whisper to GoodTimesWithScar: are you awake

A few minutes past and it was clear that Scar was not. If he wanted to see him, he'd have to physically go there. But he couldn't get his legs to move, he was paralyzed. Absolutely convinced that Scar was actually dead and that he actually killed him.

 Grian tried to reason with himself that leaving his house in the middle of the night was a bad idea. That Scar would be fine if he waited until morning. That it would be ridiculous to...

Who was Grian kidding? He reluctantly got out of bed and put his stupid shoes on.

Still no reply to the DM when Grian found himself at Scar's front door, shivering and still in a stasis of crying that hadn't resolved itself yet.

Then he let himself in, not bothering to knock. Tried to keep his wits about him. Failed at that too. It was not going well at all.

Grian found Scar asleep, alive, and well. He didn't look any different, chair and cane by his bed in anticipation of a bad day. Sometimes he woke too weak to stand, even with all the potions he took. Sometimes it just kinder on his body to let it rest, even if he had the spoons to run around.

Grian was glad to see that he hadn't killed his partner -- not on Hermitcraft at least, because it wasn't possible to kill someone permanently here. Xisuma would never allow that. He'd pull players from the code like kittens by the scruff. There was only love and trust everywhere.

Grian should've turned around and left now that his curiosity was sated. But instead, he stood there, shivering and swallowing sobs, trying to decide what he was going to do. Nothing came to mind, no coherent thoughts.

Grian crossed the room after what felt like eternity, after a particularly inspiring intrusive thought that this was actually an illusion and Scar was actually dead, it just looked like he was asleep in bed. Already slave to the stupid emotions in his head, he approached and gently placed his hand on Scar's chest, just to feel the rise and the fall.

But he didn't get long, because Scar inhaled sleepily making a small, half-asleep sound. He cracked his eyes open and met Grian's in the darkness.

"Hey you." Scar said, as if it was perfectly normal for Grian to be standing over him, hand on his chest, visibly upset.

"Hey." Grian's voice cracked and it was awful.

"Are you going to lay down? My knees are getting tired just looking at you."

It was a flimsy excuse but Grian was so glad to take it, crawling up and getting on the bed with his partner.

"Everything okay?" Scar asked, not moving closer yet, letting the two of them just lay facing each other.

Grian wrinkled his nose.

"Stupid question." Scar chuckled, because it was rather obvious. "Okay, do you want to talk about it?"

That was also a no. But didn't he owe Scar for waking him up in the middle of the night, breaking into his house? Grian opened his mouth and nothing came out.

"It's okay." Scar said, not pushing, reaching out and gently rubbing his arm. "You're okay. Thank you for coming to me. I'm glad you know you can."

That was... a lot. Grian decided not to dig into that right now, because he'd just barely stopped crying, only red eyes and tear tracks. He tried to decide if he could manage to get a hug without it completely breaking him. Because Scar was right in front of him and he was somehow convinced, even now, that he was somehow dead. That Grian had succeeded in the one thing he never actually wanted to do, and that was killing Scar.

"Do you have full hearts right now?" Grian settled on asking, a weird roundabout way but the only thing he could think of.

"Yup." Scar said, immediately. "I'm all good and healthy. Are yours?"

Grian wasn't even really sure, but that wasn't what was important. He didn't look. Instead, he reached out and pressed his thumb into Scar's pulse point on his wrist. For a moment, they laid there in suspension as the only feeling was Scar's sleep slow pulse, slowly rising the longer they stayed there and didn't move, just absorbing.

A mirrored hand touched Grian's face, making him inhale, surprised. He blinked upwards and saw Scar, looking at him, tender and tired.

"I'm okay." Scar said, having figured it out. Grian was really transparent. Or at least, to his partner.

"You're okay." Grian repeated.

"Right as rain." Scar vowed. "But you can stay as long as you like to be sure. I certainly don't mind the company. Or the view."

Grian whacked him in the stomach, flushing. Scar chuckled, but otherwise didn't move. Still cupping his face, as Grian clutched his wrist. Memorizing the sound of his heartbeat.

It was less that he was letting Scar close, and more that Grian was actually getting close on his own. That was incredibly terrifying. It had never been like that before. He'd never been the one to...

They stayed, facing each other. There was no way to tell who fell asleep first. They would both say it was the other.

[]

Grian lost count on how many times he'd let Scar close, it was becoming too natural.

Grian realized that he must've seen Scar die at least five times in a row in the chat, and scrolled back to see that it was actually more like a death loop. Immediately he dropped his own project and flew over.

He'd moulted recently, but his primaries weren't ready. Or maybe they were, and he was too scared to uncover them. Either way, it was with rockets and Elytra he hunted down Scar where he was trying to retrieve his things from a gaggle of Drowned that kept repeatedly killing him every time he got close.

Grian took a minute to shoot as much as he could from a distance, Scar nowhere in sight, half an eye out for his things. It was probably in the water somewhere, but Grian didn't know where.

He'd gotten about half of them killed, flying in agile little circles to avoid the tridents, when Scar finally showed up.

"Hey G." Scar said, audibly frustrated, approaching the water without pause. "Have you seen my stuff?"

"No, was it nearby?" Grian asked, pinging another with an arrow.

"I think it's despawned. I should just give up already." Scar floated a few feet into the water before his armourless body took a trident.

"Careful--" Grian started, but the death loop continued and Scar was gone again.

The upset in his voice motivated Grian to dive lower and scour the chunk for Scar's items, not having any luck.

"If it was near here, it's definitely gone." Grian told Scar as he approached from the same direction.

"I really don't have time for this." Scar complained. "I literally just used all my diamonds to buy the materials I just lost, let alone getting my armour and Elytra back."

"I'll lend you some stuff." Grian volunteered immediately, because that was always what Hermits did, partners or not.

Scar stared out at the Drowned and sighed. "Yeah, okay."

Grian didn't bother flying back to his base and getting a spare Elytra -- he had a spare on him right now. He landed beside Scar on the shore and unclipped the Elytra, offering it out.

"Are you walking home?" Scar asked, raising an eyebrow, not taking it.

Grian snorted. "No, I've got wings somewhere under here. I've been too chicken to try them out yet. Guess we'll see if they're flight worthy yet."

Scar's face softened, and he accepted the gift. Grian turned away, shrugging off his jumper so he could remove the bindings on his wings. They sprung from their confines immediately, ruffled and uncomfortable and practically breathing on their own with the desire to be free. The primaries were smaller than usual, but not so much that it would mean he couldn't get off the ground.

Jumper back on, Grian stretched to touch his toes and let his wingspan expand to full capacity. Scar made a small awed squeak and stepped back to give them room.

"That looked painful." Scar said, as Grian folded up the bindings. "Does it hurt?"

It did. But Grian shrugged, gesturing away from the Drowned. "Follow me to my base?"

Scar nodded. It meant that Grian had to take off and fly. His wings were not particularly well cared for at the moment. Taking a bracing breath, Grian crouched down, flexed his wings out, and launched.

It took a bit more force than he was used to, but the mechanical motions of flying manually were so much more natural and made his heart sing unlike the too-smooth glide of the Elytra. He was wobbly, but he flew.

Scar smiled at him from the shoreline, until a Drowned pinged his feet with a trident and he leapt into the air himself with the spark of a rocket.

Grian flew little circles around him the whole way home, unable to stop himself from circling back around and teasing Scar as the man squawked and dropped his rockets. He felt like he could breathe again, lungs opened up with the stretch of his wings.

He kept them out once at his base, digging through his things to find a spare set of picks and armour for Scar. His partner sat on a shulker watching him look, abnormally quiet.

"Sorry you lost your stuff." Grian said, handing him a shulker with his best set of spare gear.

"It's fine." Scar said, even though the irritation still present in his voice said it really wasn't. "Do you need any help with your wings?"

Grian wrinkled his nose. "I've got my machine here, it'll be fine."

"Let me rephrase." Scar said. "I can't pay you back because I'm broke, can I help with your wings? There's a feather sticking out that's killing me."

It was killing Grian too. But still he hesitated -- this wasn't Third Life. It wasn't a necessity anymore. There was absolutely no reason to give in. He could take care of himself.

But to say no would turn Scar away. The Scar who was sitting in the middle of his storage area looking uncharacteristically grumpy. If he accepted, they'd have an excuse to hang out longer.

To get closer.

It was hard to make a conscious decision like this without feeling immense bouts of doubt and terror. But Grian said, "Are you sure?"

"Positive. Take my mind off all the terracotta I just lost." Scar replied, a growing smile on his face as he realized it was going to happen.

"Fine." Grian looked around at the storage room, knowing it wasn't a good choice of venue. Last time Scar did this, he couldn't freaking walk afterwards it turned his limbs to blissed out jelly. "Not here, though."

"No, no." Scar agreed, following him up and out.

 It felt way too personal to invite Scar into his bedroom, vulnerability crawling on his skin. But there wasn't exactly a better place. It was already full of feathers anyway, so it'd be easy clean up.

Scar didn't question any of it, chatting about his design in the hallway, still discussing the block choices even as Grian laid on his stomach on the bed, letting his wings stretch out, face in his arms.

"They're a mess." Scar told him, in full honesty. "It might take a while. Do you have time?"

"You're the one who was in the middle of something. Do you?" Grian asked, muffled by his arms. He was trying not to think about what he was doing and failing.

"For this? Always." Scar started with just his palm in the center of Grian's back, waiting for the immediate tense to calm down.

"Tell me what you were building." Grian asked, not capable of thinking about the intimacy of this act. Scar seemed to know last time how much this meant, how personal and radical it was that Grian would allow this to happen. And now he'd barely had to be twisted into allowing it a second time.

"Gladly." Scar replied, and went over his plan in detail. All while nimble fingers made him shiver with a brush down his secondaries, helping feathers that had been out of alignment for so long it made his face go numb when they slid back into place. Tugging broken ones and causing a blissful relief to shoot through his spine.

At some point, the best position for this was Scar placing his knees on either side of Grian, balanced and smoothing away dirt. The inherent leg-weakening bliss was only made stronger when Scar finished preening his wings and moved onto massaging his shoulders again.

"Scar." Grian whined, not moving, but losing any self-control at all he had.

"Sorry, do you want me to stop?" Scar asked, meticulously getting a stubborn knot from between his shoulders from the binding of his wings.

Grian whined in the back of his throat at the thought of Scar stopping. This was dangerous. This was so fucking dangerous. Thumbs in muscles, moving slow and hard, making Grian see stars behind his closed eyelids.

It didn't help that Grian was being straddled by Scar either. It was kind of a problem, really. Because if he turned over now, he wasn't going to be able to stop himself from doing something really, really dumb. He'd let him close too many times and now it was too late. He was done for.

Scar leaned down and said, close to his ear, "Okay?"

"You suck." Grian said, breath shuddering.

Scar chuckled. "You need to stop seeing affection as a personal attack."

Grian pushed back against the hands, which moved immediately. This was only to make enough room to turn over, so instead now he was being straddled properly.

Scar looked surprised, hands up, not seemingly knowing what to do now.

Grian decided to give him some ideas. "You need to kiss me or I won't be held accountable for my actions."

Scar's breath hitched, pupils wide, and he leaned forward again only to meet Grian in a searing kiss. The two of them pushing together and finding out at the exact same moment just how much the contact meant, feeling how turned on they were. Grian had been quietly suffering, but apparently so had Scar, and now with their bodies lined up they knew that.

Grian had a plan, though. Scar was the one who'd been upset, so it wasn't fair that Grian was getting all the attention. He pushed upwards, elbows behind him for leverage, not daring to release the deep kiss. Knees bent, wings out behind him, and getting Scar to thunk backwards, positioning himself between his legs.

Scar shuddered and gripped Grian's arms, exhaling shakily into his mouth, just as Grian took matters into his own hands.

Grian pushed Scar with one hand, pulling away from the kiss. Taking only a second to meet Scar's dazed eyes, he trailed down and ran his thumbs along Scar's belt.

"Can I?" Grian asked, licking his lips, looking up through his lashes at his partner.

Scar stared, and he had been holding his breath because he suddenly sucked in. "God, I-- if you want to? You don't have to-- I--"

Grian took the permission and ignored the babbling, leaning over to kiss Scar's hips as he pulled open his pants and immediately put his mouth on him.

"Holy-- G, oh, you--" Scar didn't seem to know what to say, heels digging into the mattress as he threw his head back and shuddered another breath.

Grian maybe was a little bit more of a tease than he needed to be, but Scar just made the most delicious noises and Grian wanted to coax as many out of him as he could. When he came, Scar hit his head against the wall, and Grian moaned, body warm and taste sweet. It was way too hot to watch, and he managed a hand down his own pants for all of three seconds before there was another helping him, Scar encasing Grian's hand in his own and jerking him fast.

"Look at you." Scar breathed, pinning him with his gaze, and Grian whined, managing about thirty seconds before he was coming as well, body tingling from the release, limbs already loose from all the attention before. He collapsed onto Scar, who tenderly wrapped him up in his arms and kissed his hair.

Grian took a minute to remember his own name, then realized what the hell he'd done. Years of friendship ruined because he couldn't receive even the smallest amount of affection without taking it too far. He said, "Shit. Scar, I--"

"Had a lovely time." Scar interrupted, serene, stroking the bangs away from Grian's face. "And you're not about to freak out about it and undo all my hard work to get you relaxed."

Grian absolutely was going to freak out about it, thank you very much. He wiggled out of Scar's grip, released without too much fight, sitting back on his heels with freshly preened wings out and spread. His expression was agony. "Scar, I shouldn't have done that."

"Why not?" Scar prompted immediately.

"Because ... I can't." Grian protested. "I really can't, okay?"

"I think you definitely can. Explain the thought process for me here so I can follow." Scar coaxed, not looking at all surprised and more determined. Grian didn't understand why.

Grian was afraid that if he released all of his inner conflicts, laid them out on the floor, that Scar would take one look at him and leave him. Or, even worse, solve them.

He was a coward. Wings tucking in tightly to his body, damning and expressive, Grian said, helplessly, "I'm sorry."

And he fled.

[]

If Grian was a good man, he would've turned the other way when he saw Scar in Last Life.

But he knew, he absolutely knew, that if he asked Scar for a life, he'd get one. And he did, with little chase, and no hesitation. It hurt like a burning fire because Grian wasn't sure if he'd do the same if the positions were reversed, and what the hell did that say about him?

Mostly that he should do Scar a favour and stay the hell away from him. Which he tried to do, but it never quite worked.

Grian tried to bargain with him over a horse, but the moment he met his eyes when he stood on the walls of the Southlands, he could see he wasn't going to win. There was only one bargaining tool that Scar wanted, and that was Grian himself. So the horse meant nothing, and gained them nothing.

He tried to stay away from Scar. He ended up taking another of his lives. He ended up staring at the man as he once more plummeted into red in front of him.

In that moment, it was all too much. All the memories, everything between them, the horror and the loyalty that never went away even between games. Grian took his things and said he was just going to return them.

Grian didn't know what to expect, heart thudding against the back of his tongue the whole way up Magic Mountain. He didn't know if Scar would want to see him at all, if all the betrayal and the haunting way this game was unfolding in comparison to the last. Or maybe that was just from Grian's perspective, because this game felt so different.

Even surrounded by people, this round felt so lonely.

Grian hadn't let anyone close. When he opened the door to Magic Mountain and saw Scar sitting on his bed, head in hands, he forgot all his promises and all his rules for a minute.

"Are you okay?" Grian said, crossing the room and falling to his knees in front of Scar, hands coming to grip his thighs.

Scar inhaled, raising his gaze with a surprised and nervous expression. He said, "You're here."

"I... I brought your stuff." Grian said, inexplicably breathless. It was like it was all stolen out of his lungs, punched in the diaphragm, staring at Scar's face as it cycled through what felt like a hundred emotions.

It settled, slowly, on something careful. Scar said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Grian realized he was still on his knees in front of Scar, clutching his legs like he might disappear, and swiftly stood up. He opened Scar's double chest and emptied the excess things in his inventory that they'd managed to collect from the walls. Then, hesitating, he shut the lid and turned around.

Neither of them spoke, and Grian was forced to be the one to break the silence, throat sore. He said, "You didn't answer my question. Are you alright?"

"I'm..." Scar's red eyes shut, and he exhaled shortly through his nose. When he opened them again, it was like absolutely no time had passed. It was like Grian had sand underneath his fingernails. It was terrifying.

Scar didn't finish. Grian didn't really expect him to. Instead, he stepped closer, and reached out, hesitant.

Scar didn't move, like he was trying not to spook an animal. He waited until Grian gathered his bravery and touched Scar's cheek. Soft and wondering. Hurting.

A tickle of air as Scar cautiously exhaled. He raised his hands to clutch Grian's. Turning into the touch and kissing Grian's palm with something soft, devastating, and worshipful.

Grian shakily exhaled. He couldn't move. Scar kissed every single of his fingers individually, then the pulse point on his wrist, and his sensitive inner arm before Grian managed to rub two braincells together long enough to have any thought that wasn't, I love him more than I've ever loved anything.

The new thought was, no amount of love will mean this won't end with his blood on my hands. And Grian tugged to be released.

Scar let him go, that careful expression shuddering into an expectant sorrow. He'd been waiting for it. He'd known.

"I shouldn't have come." Grian whispered.

Scar looked up at him. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

Grian was choking on his own tongue and felt only endless tingling in his fingers.

[]

After Last Life it was easier to pretend. He'd gotten good at it, actually. They came home to Hermitcraft and Grian perfected the art of talking to people without saying anything at all. He'd learnt from the last time, how much he could isolate himself before people noticed, and how to reverse stalk -- learn everyone's schedules so he could just conveniently never be where anyone else would.

It wasn't as if Last Life was as inherently painful as Third Life. There wasn't a bloody confrontation where he had to beat his partner to death with his own hands. But Grian did release a wither, he did betray his friends, he did and he did and he did and when was everyone going to learn that he wasn't something to be loved, he was something to be avoided?

Grian was champion at never fucking learning.

Mumbo was new to the series and struggled more than the others. Grian found himself with his best friend more often than not, talking about things that happened and helping Mumbo wrap his mind around it. They said 'it was just a game' so many times that it started to lose any meaning.

Anytime Mumbo called, Grian came, even if the reasons seemed feeble. It was helping someone, and that was the one thing Grian was incapable of saying no to.

MumboJumbo whispers to you: come hang out?

You whisper to MumboJumbo: coords?

Mumbo was at home. That was easy enough, Grian shuffling his inventory to remove all the blocks he'd been carrying for his build and made his way over to Mumbo's.

The thing Mumbo had failed to mention, of course, was that he already had company. Scar was there with Jellie, curled up with hot drinks and sitting on the carpet with Mumbo.

"You didn't tell me it was a party." Grian announced himself with, standing in the doorway and wondering if it would be totally awful of him to leave just because Scar was there.

Which was unfortunate, considering Scar absolutely lit up when he saw Grian. However, the sight only lasted a moment, Scar keeping his mouth shut, that careful expression returning and muting all the colour and joy.

Mumbo answered, "We were going to play cards, are you in?"

There was a mild tremor in Mumbo's voice, which decided it for Grian. He'd just have to stay and suffer. He crossed the room and joined them on the carpet, settling himself in to comfort his best friend and take his mind off whatever was torturing him today.

When Grian sat, Jellie immediately abandoned Scar to come greet him, padding over on silent feet to run herself over Grian's knee, head to tail, accepting scritches behind her ear with a pleased purr.

"Hello darling." Grian said, warm, leaning over to smooch her soft head repeatedly.

"He's using us for the cat, Scar." Mumbo said, laughing.

"Yeah." Scar agreed, voice far more dazed.

"She's better company than you lot." Grian joked, raising his head to send them a playful grin, and coaxing Jellie to curl up on his lap.

"Cat favouritism is what that is." Mumbo started to shuffle the cards. "Shall we play rummy?"

"Yes please." Grian said, shifting forward when Mumbo began dealing to reach his cards, closing in their little makeshift circle.

"You'll have to teach me." Scar said.

"Scar, we've played rummy together before." Grian forced himself to be normal, to meet his ex-partner's eyes.

Eyes that were looking back at him, heart stoppingly earthy green, drinking in the sight of Grian like he might just vanish.

"Have we?" Scar asked.

"I've had to teach you every single time." Grian complained.

"Sorry. You're going to have to teach me again."

Grian had a helpless twitch of a smile in the corner of his mouth. "Fine. Just watch out, Mumbo cheats."

"Excuse me?" Mumbo demanded, full of offense. "That is bloody rich coming from you!"

"Can you teach me how to cheat too?" Scar asked, and it instantly triggered a full body laugh from Grian.

The three of them played rummy on the floor, Jellie staying warm in Grian's lap and purring constantly. He kept catching Scar looking at him, and he'd never look away when caught, just gave a weak smile. Grian tried to stay focused on the task of cheering Mumbo up, but at some point he'd shifted close enough that his thigh was touching Scar's knee and it was all he could think about.

It was pretty stupid to become obsessed with the single point of clothed contact with a man who he'd sucked off, but Grian was pretty fucking stupid for Scar anyway.

Mumbo left to answer a call for a minute and Grian decided to focus on the adorable Jellie in his lap instead of trying to make awkward conversation with his ex-partner. He leaned over to shower her soft face in kisses again, and glanced up to find Scar still staring.

He needed to call him out on it. He was an idiot and said, "Jealous I'm kissing her and not you?"

"Yes." Scar said, immediately. It was ridiculous but it still made Grian's face flush. Scar continued, however, "But more that I can't look away from the two people I love the most together in one place."

Oh, that was like his heart popping, an overfilled balloon. Grian should just put his foot in his stupid mouth. He swallowed and realized with a sheer amount of ridiculousness that the care in his tone and the way he couldn't seem to stop looking at Grian was going to make him fucking cry.

"Shit." Grian muttered, turning his face away and hiding his burning eyes. He squeezed them shut against the painful rushing behind them, the rumble like an ocean preparing to roll against the shore. He wanted Scar close so bad. He hated this. He hated everything about it.

"G?" Scar wondered, quietly.

"Shut up." Grian rasped, voice giving away his tears.

Scar inhaled sharply. He shuffled closer, as Grian cried into Jellie's fur, managing to just have lightly hitching breath instead of damning sobs.

But Scar still knew. He laid a hand on Grian's elbow, expectant. Waiting to be pushed away.

Grian curled closer to Jellie, who meowed, but didn't push away. So Scar slid behind him, arms around Grian's waist, and hugged him tight. He kissed the top of his head, staying there with his lips against his curls and breathing slow and steady.

Grian cried silently, held like something precious, and it was shattering things in his chest. It was painful and it hurt. He leaned back into Scar's touch, the warm body behind him flexing and not releasing. He scrambled to clutch Scar's hands, holding on. He gave a small hiccup.

"What are we doing?" Mumbo said, returning hesitantly, seeing the hug and the tears on Grian's face.

"Hugging Grian." Scar said, no particular emotion in his voice. "Want to join?"

Mumbo did hesitate, because Grian always kept everyone at arm's length. Including Mumbo. He said, "Only if you want me to."

He wasn't asking Scar. Grian mumbled, "Don't crush the cat."

Jellie still on his lap made a 'mrrph' sound. Mumbo came closer and Grian released his death grip on Scar's hands to offer his arms out to Mumbo. His best friend had been the one to start the night upset, surely it wouldn't hurt to give him a hug too.

Except he hadn't considered this would mean he had the steady, loving rock of Scar behind him and the awkward, earnest care of Mumbo in front of him. Grian felt like he was being buried alive. It was horrible. He never, ever wanted them to let him go.

Grian sniffed and Jellie got too hot and wormed off his lap, walking away from the three of them with an irritated flick of her tail. But even still, neither of his friends made any motion to move. They must've been waiting for Grian to call a halt.

But it was hard, because he felt like he could've just stayed there forever. The tears kept reclogging in his throat and messily coming to the surface, over and over, the wash of the ocean tide against the sand. There was so much to be upset about all the time and Grian never let himself be.

Then Mumbo started to hum a jaunty tune under his breath and it burst a pocket of laughter from Grian, and he pulled away from the two of them, rubbing his face with his sleeve to clean of tears. Both his friends laughed alongside him, and none of them acknowledged what happened, shuffling the cards as Jellie returned to Scar's lap, content.

[]

The world was ending and they decided to all get drunk.

This seemed a logical solution, and Grian didn't really have a better idea so he joined them. They started in the meeting room but ended up in Pearl's house, as she'd claimed to have better alcohol to them to try.

Grian tried not to get too drunk as a general rule, mostly because hangovers made building hard. But if the moon really was big, and the world really was ending, did it matter if he took a night to drink with his friends?

He really was going to miss Boatem, Grian realized, watching them trying to build a beer pong table out of wood blocks. He'd had fun in all the Hermitcraft seasons, sure. But there was something close and special about this one, and it made him so sad that it was going to end brutally and early.

So he drank. And let himself just live in the moment for the first time in ages. He told Impulse the worst jokes he could think of until the man snorted his drink out of his nose. He danced with Pearl to the jukebox trying to have a mirrored dance-off competition. He obliterated Mumbo in beer pong, throwing his arms in the air and cheering.

And of course, Grian did the one thing he never let himself do without overthinking it entirely -- he let himself get close to Scar.

Hanging off Scar's shoulder to watch Pearl make a shot. Bumping their hands together every time they passed just to feel the sparks of electricity, the light headed joy and terror. Kicking him under the table as they played drinking games. Running his toe up Scar's calf and feeling him shudder.

And when the alcohol reached a certain saturation point, Pearl falling asleep with loud inelegant snores, Impulse helping Mumbo to throw up in the bathroom, and Grian taking the moment they were alone to climb on Scar's lap.

The room spun from more than just the alcohol, and Grian felt larger hands fall to his hips, keeping him steady.

"Hey you." Scar said.

"Hey." Grian replied, enjoying the floating feeling and the complete lack of any inhibition long enough to run his fingers up Scar's neck and jaw, and leaning down to kiss him.

Scar gasped into his mouth, hands pulling Grian closer by the hips. Grian licked filthily into his mouth, nibbling on his lower lip and feeling everything starburst and fizzle, heaving for air through his nose pressed too hard against Scar's cheek. Kissing him sloppy and hot until neither of them could breathe, forcing them to part and Grian to whine at the loss.

"Grian." Scar said, voice weird, and when Grian tried to kiss him again he turned his head away.

"Scar." Grian complained, licking his jawline then his throat without the access to his delicious mouth. The scuff against his lips made him shiver.

Scar audibly groaned, hands clenching them tighter and immediately loosening. "You wouldn't do this if you weren't drunk."

"Yeah, exactly, let's enjoy it." Grian breathed in his ear, before taking the soft lobe in his mouth and sucking.

"Oh, G." Scar's breath hitched and he said, "I don't want you to stop, believe me, but you have to."

Stop. Scar was asking him to stop. Grian didn't want to do anything he didn't want, so he released, pulling away, lips red and wet.

Scar looked pained, hand coming over to thumb at Grian's bottom lip and shutting his eyes. He muttered, "You're too much, pretty."

"Same to you, handsome." Grian breathed, and he needed to get off Scar's lap if they weren't doing this because he was going to have problems. He kissed Scar's thumb, and got up, staggering away to maybe go join Mumbo with the puking.

[]

Grian didn't want Scar to be in his hardcore world in the first place.

But there he was. Building a base on the most dangerous possible place and with the worst blocks. Walking around all completely killable, living in a world Grian made, just so Grian could watch him die again.

Really, Grian felt with how often it happened, it should've been easier to watch him die. Especially with the desensitization of Hermitcraft, where death meant nothing. But no. Every single time it was actually worse, because there was this breathless feeling of sure, he's come back a thousand times before. But what if he doesn't this time?

Whether or not he was letting Scar close, he didn't want to live without him. Which was probably why he didn't fight Scar harder into leaving the server, because he wanted to live in whatever world Scar was in, really. He wanted to laugh until he was sick, to pull stupid pranks, to see him light up, to feel him close--

Weak, was what Grian really was. Hugely weak and desperately hoping Scar stayed out of trouble. The only problem was that he was Scar, and of course he wasn't going to, and Grian realized the moment his Elytra broke before Scar did, and --

It didn't get any easier.

[]

Grian was thinking only about that moment where Scar hit the ground, Scar fell from a high place, when season nine started and Scar swum up to him on the island.

Because he mentally tossed aside everything else and threw himself at Scar, a full body hug at top speed that had them staggering back.

"Hey you." Scar said, not hesitating to hug back, sweeping Grian off his feet and in a swooping circle.

"Hey." Grian replied, burying his face in Scar's shoulder, enjoying being alive in the safest possible place, their home with their family. No danger, no hardcore rules, no beating each other to death in cactus rings.

Just Grian and Scar and an unrelenting hug. Holding onto each other like they had nowhere else to be.

"You okay?" Scar asked in his ear, a little worried, but not loosening his grip in the slightest.

"Please don't die in front of me again." Grian begged, unashamed. He really couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh, that." Scar relaxed, holding Grian's head and kissing his temple. "I'm fine, I had a nice break, no harm done. You worry about me too much."

"You worry about yourself not enough." Grian ignored the affection with practice, pulling back far enough to glare at him.

Scar stared back with unbearable fondness.

Grian wished just once that Scar wasn't utterly and completely perfect. That he could look at him and hate him. He wanted to get so far away from him. He couldn't live without him.

So maybe he pushed him in a couple holes, just to remind himself it wasn't hardcore. His heart still clenched every time, it still took his breath away.

It didn't help. Nothing did.

[]

The worst part really about having gotten used to being close was that Grian missed it all the time.

His skin would sing and his heart would keen and he'd wish he was with Scar, close to Scar, just... being with him made everything better and he hated it so much. He denied himself over and over, every minute of every day, but a man was only so strong.

Grian let himself into Scar's base, finding his beautiful bed he'd made in his beautiful tree, and crawled up on the mattress to wait. Not entirely sure what he was going to do when Scar got there, but unable to do much else but lay on his side and wait.

It was a couple hours before Scar came back, humming to himself and stopping completely in the entranceway, arms full of shulkers.

"Hey you." Scar said.

"Hey." Grian replied, rubbing his eye. He'd nearly fallen asleep.

"Looking for me?" Scar asked, putting his shulkers away and approaching the bed, raising his eyebrows and spreading his hands.

"If I ask you to come here will you not read too far into it?" Grian asked, hopeful.

Scar didn't need to be told twice, joining him on the bed, leaving room between the two of them just like they were in the desert again.

"What do you need?" Scar asked, ever faithful, ever willing.

Grian sighed. "Just... be here with me. For a bit."

Scar nodded, not asking any further questions, and only being a little bit of a tease when he reach up to brush Grian's hair from his eyes. Otherwise, he kept his hands to himself.

It wasn't enough. But Grian was afraid he wouldn't be able to contain himself if they started to touch for real. If he'd climb on Scar and beg him for mercy. If he'd get pushed away again, or if he'd push him away again.

Instead he engaged in what was probably the literal worst kind of torture where he laid in a bed with the person he wanted the most in the world and denied himself that every second that passed.

Not like this.

If Scar minded, he didn't say. He did exactly as he was told, and eventually fell asleep.

Grian left before he woke up, aching. Hating himself. But for Scar's own sake, he would make sure they were never together again.

[]

And the universe said, hah, you thought.

[]

Grian went into Double Life completely expecting he'd get some poor unsuspecting person who would suffer the consequences. That was obviously a given, and he'd just figured he'd have a little fun with it. Cause a little chaos, stress his partner out. Winning was less the goal, and seeing what trouble they could get up to was more the challenge.

Except everyone immediately embraced the soulmate bond either in full throttle or a full reversal. Everyone was taking it to mean something deeper, something--

Grian watched the axe hit Scar's back and felt the pain ripple through him and screamed.

No. He couldn't do this. He couldn't-- he couldn't possibly feel the same pain as Scar and be expected to be normal about that. He couldn't be inexplicably bonded with the person he was living and breathing for every single day and not be a little bit fucked up about it. He didn't want it to be Scar. He wanted it to be literally anyone else, so that he could-- he could...

It was like cycling through the stages of grief. By the time Grian accepted that the universe was never, ever going to let him be extracted from Scar, his soulmate still hadn't even realized it. And that meant it was up to Grian to tell him.

But Scar didn't react in any way that Grian thought. Sure, he said he didn't know because Grian always followed him around, worried.

In the beginnings of what would be the Red Velvet Keep, Scar said to him, "I know you don't want it to be me."

"Of course I don't want it to be you." Grian snapped, facing away from him, putting together a bed with trembling hands. "I don't want to hurt you again."

"I don't really remember that." Scar said lightly, from the other side of the room.

"What on earth do you mean?" Grian threw his hands in the air and turned around furious. "All I ever do is hurt you. I've tried so hard to stop it but..."

"Is that why you did that?" Scar said, sad. "G, I don't think about you hurting me. You never want to hurt me. I think about all the things you do on purpose. Laughing at even my worst jokes. Buying me an Elytra when we can't find one in the End. When you frame my face with your fingers at stare at me with the most heartbreaking expression. I've never had anyone look at me like that before. I think about it at least once a day."

"It matters that I hurt you. It matters more than anything." Grian paced a tight, angry circle. "I don't want to... I hurt people Scar, and I lose them, and I don't want to do that to you. The universe thinks were soulmates, and it's right. I love you so much I can't breathe sometimes. But it doesn't matter, because my love is something that suffocates, it kills, I'm going to take the shining parts of you and dull them to ash."

Scar had gone frozen still at the middle of that speech, and there was a fragile look on his face. He said, quietly, "You love me?"

"I love you every damn second I'm alive. I love you more than I could ever articulate, and it's your curse, it's--"

Grian didn't get to finish his sentence because Scar had gotten up and interrupted his furious pacing to kiss him at top speed, teeth clacking together.

Grian helplessly clutched Scar's shirt, dizzy with the intensity, feeling the prick of pain from the smash of their teeth together echo twice over. Scar held him in place, thumbs on his cheek and fingers behind his ears, tilting his head to kiss him so hard he saw literal stars.

"Hah." Grian breathed, when they parted a millimeter, neither of them moving further apart than that. Half-lidded, he looked at the healthy glow of his green-eyed soulmate.

"I want absolutely nothing more than to be cursed by you." Scar breathed.

"You can't, you don't know what it means--"

"It means I can have you. For however long the universe allows, I don't care. I want you, G. Every single part of you. I can't imagine--"

Scar broke off himself, shutting his eyes and shivering, thumbs stroking gently on Grian's cheeks. He continued, quiet, shaky, "I can't imagine doing any of this without you. I respect whatever decisions you want to make. But please respect that my own will always choose you, no matter what you say to try and push me away. I love you like I love air. I need you. I can't fathom a second without you."

"Please." Grian said, unsure even of what he was pleading for anymore. The soulmate bond was singing between them, the close proximity everything Grian ever wanted. It was impossible to think with Scar so close, with Scar holding him like this, looking at him like that, saying these things.

Scar kissed the corner of his mouth, making Grian's lips part breathlessly. Then Scar mouthed at his jaw, down his neck, over his collarbone, before taking the ducked position and picking Grian up under the thighs and pressing his back against the wall.

Reflexively, Grian wound his legs around Scar's waist, hands sliding up his shirt to sling over his shoulders, and shook with emotion and need.

Scar sucked a mark on his neck, taking his time, while Grian fought with his fingers flexing and his head thudding against the wood behind him. A needy whine in his throat, vibrating against Scar's nose on his neck.

Grian squirmed in his grasp. "Please."

"I'll do anything you want." Scar promised, mouth wet near his ear. "You just have to tell me."

"Scar." Grian's entire brainpower had flown south. He knew he should stop. He should save Scar while he had the chance. He should deny the universe what it was trying to do. He should... he should...

"I'm yours." Scar vowed, entirely. With his whole being. "Tell me what you want. Tell me to stop, we stop. Tell me to go, we go. It's up to you, G."

That was really unfair, considering currently he was rock hard and pinned to the wood by Scar's entire self, neck prickled with singing nerves from his hot mouth and entire soul screaming to unite with his soulmate. Years of denial. Years of pushing away. Years alone.

"I want you." Grian admitted, a collapse, a surrender.

"You can have me." Scar vowed, without hesitation. "I'm yours. Will you let me have you?"

That was the hardest question, wasn't it? Vulnerability. Letting someone within his walls. Letting someone in both to hurt and be hurt.

The world spun on its axis waiting for an answer. He stared at Scar, seeing reflections of thousands of hours of trust and support and care and everything he ever wanted, there, waiting. Willing to wait even longer if he needed. But did he need to? Or was this their chance -- whether they won or lost double life, they'd be together. No one outliving the other. Equal footing.

It was a mistake. Grian made so many. What was one more? "I'm yours." He vowed.

Scar's face shed its layers of illusion, his charms and his wits, to something sheer and wonderful, like looking directly into the sun. He said, "Really?"

"Really." Grian could've perished right then, just from the feeling of his soulmate being happy. From him. With him.

"Are you sure?" Scar couldn't help but prod, like this was going to be some kind of prank.

"I'm always sure with you." Grian replied, with a certain amount of tired fondness. He skated his fingers along Scar's jaw and leaned down to kiss him.

Scar responded immediately, turning them around to lower Grian gently onto the barely made bed, kissing him like he needed the air from his lungs. Their bodies tangling together like one, arms wrapped around head, legs slotting together, tongues and lips and teeth. The world narrowed in focus, heat and sparks and flaring nerves. His heart floating somewhere away like a helium balloon. Steamy and sloppy and ridiculous.

Scar pulled far enough away for a string of saliva between them, pupils dilated.

Grian couldn't stop himself from cupping his face, laying on his back with his partner draped over top of him, admiring every slope and curve, and saying with a teasing smile, "Hey you."

"Hey." Scar said, barely an exhale.

"Want to fuck me?" Grian asked, smile turning devilish.

Scar turned red and ducked his face into Grian's shoulder, feeling his partner chuckle. He said, weakly, "Y-yes, I do."

Grian turned to kiss his burning cheek, while moving his hands down to Scar's pants.

It was not surprising to Grian that Scar was an attentive lover. It was very, very hot, because Scar painstakingly worked him open with his fingers until Grian was practically blathering as he begged for it, his own face burning hot with overstimulated nerves. And the sensation of Scar inside him was too much, everything he ever wanted, with absolutely no contradictions.

He clutched Scar's bare shoulders until there were nail marks there, heaving for air against his chest and dying for his partner to move.

Slow and steady and watching Grian's every move, thoroughly fucking him until the cliff that was his climax felt like being plastered against a wall after years of free-fall. He tingled all over, toes curled, screaming Scar's name over and over like it was the only word he knew.

Only then did Scar falter, hips snapping, gaining a more frantic rhythm, like he couldn't help himself, and Grian kissed him through his own release, feeling the heat on his tongue, open mouthed and falling apart.

The world centered and refocused and fell into place. Grian was sure he'd made a mistake. It was the best mistake he'd ever made.

"Please don't run." Scar begged, the moment he had a coherent thought.

Grian brushed sweaty hair out of Scar's face. "I'd hate to leave this sight."

Scar's nervous expression melted into something gooey. He threaded his arms around Grian's waist and rolled them over, locked together, giggling, euphoric.

Grian didn't know if they were going to win Double Life. It didn't really matter anymore. He'd won something else, over a battle with himself, for the best prize in the world.