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Grian has a secret.
He hasn’t told anyone, and he does his damndest to hide it. For all his life, he’s never admitted it once, and no one on the Hermitcraft server has figured it out, thank god. He really doesn’t plan to tell them either.
It’s horrifically embarrassing.
…
He can’t read.
It’s not like he doesn’t know written English at all! He can identify most of the letters, though some of them are easy to mix up, stupid d and b. q and g. Lowercase l and uppercase I…
The list goes on.
Most letters are fine, anyways. But it’s the words themselves that really get him. S sounds like S by itself, but sometimes it makes a shush sound?? And C making a C sound except sometimes it’s Ch?? Don’t get him started on a, e, and those other ones.
So he can’t read. And usually it’s no issue. He has his communicator read his messages aloud in private, he’s learned to recognize the important words like people's names and stuff like “help”, recognizes the various death messages. But beyond that?
He’s screwed. Almost entirely illiterate. Written language means nothing and he really does wish he’d been taught while growing up like everyone else.
Which is a problem now, because Scar invited him on a lovely evening picnic and now at the end, he’s handed Grian a handwritten note.
Grian, quite frankly, was shitting himself. He can feel a flush crawling up his neck and his chest squeezes uncomfortably.
The setting sun is warm on his back as Grian takes the carefully folded paper with wide eyes. He looks up and Scar has a gentle, nervous smile on his face, with the most tender look in his eyes.
So the note is… something fond. Positive, but not typical to say, or he wouldn’t be nervous. Appreciation note? ‘Thanks for being my friend’ note??
He opens the note and skims over the letters and words that he can’t decipher. It opens with his name at the top, and is signed by Scar at the bottom. Beyond that… he’s really, well and truly lost.
He has to guess.
Oh god.
“Oh—! I, uh— thank— thank you!” Grian stammers awkwardly, truly a shot in the dark at what might be a vaguely appropriate response. He looks away and folds the note back up. “I, uh, really… appreciate it?”
“Oh! Uh, yeah! Yeah, no, of course,” Scar replies, just as awkward and visibly trying not to wince, and Grian can feel the atmosphere go stale. His wings twitch, and he itches to leave, now distinctly aware that his reply to the note wasn’t the right one.
“I’m— uhh… Sorry, this was super lovely, but I just— I’ve got, uh— there was a redstone thing and it’s— very pressing, and I’ve given myself a deadline so—”
“Right! Right, of course! I’ll… see you around?” Scar’s voice goes quieter, almost meek, and it takes Grian off guard as he looks up. Scar looks… sad, actually.
“Yeah, of course,” he assures, quickly, glancing out at the sky. He said something wrong. He said something wrong and maybe if he leaves then they can just… move on. “Right then, uh… I’m off. Bye Scar!”
Scar is barely returning his goodbye by the time Grian has already taken off, shooting into the air off towards his base. He places the note in his inventory, careful to not drop it in the wind, and as soon as he’s out of range he lets out a shout of frustration, thrashing about just enough to not knock himself out of the sky.
Stupid illiteracy. Stupid social stuff. Stupid note.
Grian lets out another frustrated noise, using a rocket to proper him forward faster than he can otherwise fly. His inability to read isn’t usually such an issue, usually he can just… avoid words and use context clues.
But there was something weird about that note. The look on Scar’s face, his awkward reaction to Grian’s response—
It must’ve been really heartfelt, and probably specific. Or maybe it was a confession of some kind? Did Scar come out to him maybe?
Oh God.
Please say Scar didn’t come out to him and he can’t read it.
Scar has never explicitly come out to anyone before, at least not that Grian knows of. And there’s no issues of bigotry on the server, everyone is either accepting or queer themselves and any hatred of the sort would probably result in a ban. Even still, not everyone wants to put a label on it, or maybe they’re still figuring it out, so if Scar came out to him… and he said…
Ohhhh no.
Oh no no no.
Oh God oh no.
He makes a sharp turn towards Gem’s base. The sky is very quickly going dark, the sun having barely set as Grian left the picnic, and Grian would worry more about phantoms if he wasn’t so worried about the contents of the note.
He was nearly home already, so the flight to Gem’s is barely a couple minutes. He circles the air above her base for not even thirty seconds, before spotting her red hair disappearing into one of the little cottages. He tucks his wings and dives down towards the house, opening his wings at the last second and twirling smoothly to land safely.
“Gemmm!!” he cries, making his way to the door and knocking incessantly. He hears footsteps, and then Gem is pulling open the door to meet him.
“Oh! Grian, what brin—”
“No time!! Gem, I have a confession and also a problem relating to this confession that I genuinely hate to bring up to anyone at all but I fear this might be more important than keeping my stupid secret,” he blurts, entering the cottage as she steps aside. He paces the space, and cozy and quaint as it is, it isn’t nearly enough to numb his anxieties.
“Ope— yeah, of course! I’m always here for you,” she affirms kindly. Grian stops in the middle of the room and pushes the palms of his hands into his eyes, groaning loudly.
He’s never admitted it before. Even on old servers before this one, he’s never actually confessed it, even when someone figured it out.
But it’s also never been potentially so important like this.
“I…” He takes a deep breath. “I can’t read. I can’t read and Scar gave me a note and I tried reacting based on just— how he was acting and I think I got it wrong but then I panicked and flew away but I— Oh God, if— if the note is what I think it is then it’s deeply personal and I can’t show it to anyone but Gem, I can’t read it!!”
There’s a few seconds of quiet, where Grian can feel the dread of embarrassment crawling up his throat, insecurity and regret just beginning to win out over his deep need to know what the note says when—
“Huh. That… makes sense,” Gem comments. Grian drops his hands and blinks, frowning.
“But I was hiding it so well!”
“Uh…” Gem cringes a little and makes a vague ‘sort of’ gesture. “Not… exactly.”
“What do you mean not exactly! I’m great at hiding it! You didn’t actually figure it out till I just told you, right??”
“I… had my suspicions. Grian, Mumbo handed you a shopping list one time and you, one, got none of the items on the list and two, claimed you forgot, then that you just didn’t ‘do’ shopping, and then that you got bored so you worked on a project instead. One example of many!” she stresses, eyes shining with an exasperated fondness. Grian sighs.
“I really had no idea what was on that list,” he grumbles, recounting the incident that had nearly exposed his secret.
“That was when I first started suspecting,” Gem admits. “So… Scar gave you a note and you think it’s important but can’t read it?”
Grian remembers the situation at hand and holds back a groan.
“I think I responded wrong too, and then it got really awkward, and—” he sighs. “If I show you though and it’s what I think it is, you absolutely under no circumstances can tell anyone, okay?? It’s his business, let it— let it be his.”
Gem nods, giving him a kind smile as she steps forward, placing warm hands on his shoulders.
“Of course,” she agrees, and Grian hesitantly pulls the note from his inventory. “So… what do you think it is?”
Grian presses his lips together, fidgeting with the corner of the paper.
“Well… he seemed rather nervous, but— but in a happy kinda way? And so I thought maybe it was something affectionate, but something that usually goes unsaid, like… this sounds really self absorbed but I swear I was just trying to guess what it might be, but I assumed maybe some sort of heartfelt compliment or something? So I said thank you but it got really awkward and I flew off and… on the way over I was going back through the interaction and I’m worried that—” he pauses, taking a deep breath and cringing. “I’m worried it… might be a coming out note and I said fucking ‘thank you’.”
Gem stifles a small snort, before clearing her throat, and Grian glares at her halfheartedly, a small smile spreading on his own face.
“That— that wouldn’t be good if you— I’m sorry, I’m so sorry but— it’s kind of funny…” she closes her eyes and leans her head on his shoulder, laughing quietly. Grian huffs, but chuckles at the absurdity of the situation.
“Can’t believe you, Gem,” he deadpans. “Laughing at my pain. You’re terrible.”
“Nooo!” she giggles. “But I’m just— like imagine coming out to someone and they say ‘thank you’, it’s—”
She trails off into more quiet laughter, and Grian joins her, eternally grateful for the lightening of the mood.
“Okay, okay,” she says finally. “I’m done. Let me see, I’ll read it out loud to you, and even if it is a coming out letter I won’t say a word. Sworn to secrecy!”
Grian pulls back and nods, anxiety stirring within him again and souring his brief smile.
“Thank you,” he replies quietly, handing over the note, almost afraid to let it go.
Gem takes it from him, gently unfolding it and wrapping an arm around his shoulder so they’re side to side, as if he could read it too.
“Okay, umm…” she finds the top of the letter and starts reading. “‘Grian,
“‘Hello! W— we—’ plthh, sorry. ‘We’ve been friends for a long time, and I have to say that you’re probably my best friend. I’d love to wax poetry about how wonderful you are, and how much I enjoy spending time with you and even just being near you, but I’m not really a poetry kind of guy. By now, you can probably figure out where this is going.
“‘I don’t know when, but somewhere along the way I think I fell a little in love with the chaos, with the pranks, with the endless dedication and endless kindness you seem to have. Well, I say a little, but I feel like I’ve been the most obvious guy in the world and you probably know that it isn’t just a little.
“‘You’re incredible. And I really mean that with everything in me, down to my bones, you really are. You may be a menace with all of your pranks, but you never take it too far, and you always help out when someone needs it.
“‘I guess what I’m saying is that I love you, in a very romantic way, and I wanted to ask you to be my boyfriend. I’m not the best with words, swindling may be a specialty but I’ve found I tend to fall on my face when it comes to the vulnerable stuff, so I wrote you this note and hoped it’d come across just as heartfelt.
“‘What do you say?
“‘Love, Scar’”
Grian is bright red now, flustered and so happy he could explode. There’s also a mess of anxiety, electric dread, gathering in his chest as he realizes how he responded to receiving such a loving, vulnerable confession.
“Oh my god,” Grian mumbles, and Gem has put the paper down now, but still has her arm around his shoulder.
“That… was a really sweet letter,” Gem starts, carefully. Grian is still in shock. “Here, let's sit on the couch, you can talk through your feelings.”
Gem leads the two of them to the nearby couch and sits them on the plush green fabric. Grian buries his head in his hands and resists the urge to scream.
“Gem,” he mutters. “Gem.”
“Yeah?” she replies carefully, rubbing circles on his back with her thumb.
“I said fucking ‘thank you’ and flew off.” He splits his fingers to peer through them, glaring at the floor, horrified at what he’d done.
“You didn’t know,” Gem assures him, and he shakes his head.
“Neither did he,” he points out, and Gem hums.
“So this letter is… a bad thing?” she asks slowly, and Grian shakes his head.
“No! Not even a little bit! It’s probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me! And I said ’thank you’ and flew away!” he hisses. He’s struck with the memory of Scar meekly asking if he’d be seeing Grian around and the look in his eyes and— “Oh my god, Gem, he thinks I hate him. He thinks I rejected him. Gem.”
“You’re okay, I don’t think he thinks you hate him,” Gem assures him. “He probably thinks you rejected him, yeah, but I bet he probably knows you well enough to know that you don’t hate him for having feelings for you.”
“I have— I need to find him, I—” He shoots up from the couch and Gem makes a startled noise. “Oh my god, I should’ve been— throwing myself at him not—”
He scrubs his face and hears the couch creak as Gem stands with him.
“I think…” She starts slowly. “You have a guy to hunt down.”
Grian drops his hands and meets Gem’s eyes.
“Gem, I owe you and I will be back with gifts. Later. Another time—” Gem cuts him off with a shake of her head and a smile.
“Grian, buddy, I don’t need gifts. You needed help, you’re my friend. Now, not to sound like a cheesy romcom, but…” she shrugs, glancing at the door. “You have a Scar to go confess to, so I’m not kicking you out, per say…”
Grian nods, heart thundering.
“Thank you, I owe you, you’re getting gifts whether you want too or not—” he calls over his shoulder as he rushes out the door. He hears Gem begin to protest, he assumes, but he’s already shot off into the cold night air.
Where would Scar be? Where would he be if he was Scar and just assumedly got rejected?
Probably still moping on that hill where they had the picnic.
A one-on-one picnic?? And Grian didn’t realize it was romantic?? That was a date!
He needs to be swallowed by the earth.
No. Not yet. Scar still thinks he rejected him. He can’t die with Scar thinking he rejected him.
Afterwards. Then he can crawl into a hole and die from embarrassment.
He uses several rockets to propel himself forward, squinting against the air that makes his eyes water and his lungs burn.
Finally, the little island facing the ocean where he and Scar watched a beautiful sunset (oh my god how did he not realize) comes into view and Grian’s heart rate spikes as he spies torches and a figure curled up below.
He tucks his wings tight and dives down, watching as Scar comes into focus the closer he gets, sitting facing the ocean with his knees to his chest.
“Scar!!” he shouts, unfurling his wings and twirling carefully, stumbling on the landing just a little. “Scar, thank god, you’re still here!”
Scar startles, letting out a yelp and scrambling back, deflating as he spies Grian and letting out a harsh breath. He puts his hand on his chest dramatically.
“Goodness! Don’t scare a guy like that!” he exclaims, before seemingly remembering how they left off as his face twists anxiously and he looks away. “Did you, uh, forget something? I thought everything here was mine but if you left—”
“No! Scar, listen, I—” Grian pauses, wincing slightly to himself and groaning. He says it anyway, despite the embarrassment. “I can’t read.”
That seems to take Scar off guard, and Grian can see him thinking. There’s several long seconds while Scar reboots until finally,
“Really?” he asks incredulously.
“Yeah. I sort of know the alphabet and I’ve memorized peoples names but, uh… I— I can’t read,” he presses his lips together and crouches, wrapping his arms around his legs and hanging his head. “I usually… avoid anything written or use context clues.”
“That—” Scar pauses. “Wow. I actually had no idea. Why haven’t you told anyone?”
Grian groans.
“Because it’s embarrassing! I can’t read! Most six year olds can read at least a little! I am far older than six!” he whines.
“So… am I the only one that knows?” Scar asks slowly, and Grian sighs.
“You and one other person,” he grumbles. “I… panicked because clearly I was missing some context about, uh… the note. Sooo… I went to Gem. And admitted everything. And she read it to me. Sorry.”
Scar is silent for several long moments, clearly processing.
“Wait— so you didn’t know what it said before, but now you do know what it said and you came back…?” Scar asks hesitantly.
“... yeah,” Grian mumbles. “It was a really sweet note. And I mean obviously I had to come back. I…” he pauses. Being vulnerable was never his strong suit; admitting to feelings he’s had locked in the back of his mind for a long, long time now isn’t exactly easier. “Me too,” he settles on eventually.
He peeks his head up and Scar is staring at him with stars in his eyes.
“You mean— I—” Scar pauses a moment. “So… yes? Boyfriends?”
Grian can’t bite back a large smile, falling back to sit on his butt and pulling his knees to his chest, hiding his face in his jeans.
“Yeah,” he confirms, voice muffled. He holds his breath, and the silence he’s receiving now makes him feel like he could explode.
“Can I kiss you?” Scar asks, his voice cracking horrifically. Grian startles and his head shoots up, face immediately going bright red. Scar clears his throat and glances away, visibly flustered in a way Grian has never seen before. “Can… Can I kiss you?”
A million things fly through Grians head all at once. Specifically, he thinks about the desert, the memories he and Scar made that Scar forgot when they came home. He thinks about the warm sunny days and cold sandy nights.
He thinks about how fearless they both were with each other, knowing that more than likely neither would remember the things they said.
He pushes off the ground in more of a leap than actually standing up, closing the short distance between where they were sitting and falling on top of Scar in one big, uncoordinated movement. He lays on Scar’s chest for a moment, hands on the other man's shoulders.
“... hi,” Scar breathes, placing a gentle hand on Grian’s hip.
“Hi,” Grian whispers, still not looking up.
“... Do you—”
“Give me a moment,” Grian interrupts, still whispering. “I’m flustered.”
“Okay,” Scar agrees easily, pressing his face to the crown of Grian’s head in a mash of lips that could almost be considered a little kiss.
Grian is still reeling, mind struggling to catch up with the fact that what he’s experiencing now is reality. Scar confessed. Scar is holding him.
… Two people know he’s illiterate now.
Okay. That’s a problem for later. He can force them into secrecy another time, but for now…
He carefully peeks his head up, meeting Scar’s eyes with his heart running like a rabbit in his chest. He can feel the blood rushing to his face, and he’s so scared.
They had something special in the desert. They had something special and, towards the end, unhealthy and violently codependent. Something happened during the end, irreversible and dark. He remembers distinctly how beautiful he found Scar while he bashed his face in. He remembers how sweet death felt, when he knew Scar was on the other side, painful as it was to die a pile of broken bones and torn flesh on the desert floor.
He wants something softer this time.
The smell of blood and sand vanishes sharply as a gentle hand cups his face, and he blinks, meeting Scar’s eyes again and realizing he was staring.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Scar teases quietly, and Grian lets out a small laugh, rolling his eyes.
“You’re insufferable,” he huffs halfheartedly, glancing down at Scar’s lips.
“And you’re…” Scar trails off, wrinkling his nose. There’s a pause before he continues. “... Nope. I got nothing. You… uhh… were staring. And you like me. A lot.”
Grian laughs and drops his face back to Scar’s chest, Scar’s hand landing gently instead on the base of his neck.
“You’re an idiot,” he giggles, and Scar guffaws.
“Excuse you! I’ll have you know I’m actually very smart, in fact I am a master of—”
“Scar!” Grian interrupts, affectionately exasperated. Since Grian found out what the note said, he’s been picturing every possible way this could go, and the waiting is killing him.
Scar, who had closed his eyes in his rambling, opens them again and meets Grian’s eyes, and Grian gets the joy of watching Scar’s cheeks turn pink. “Kiss me.”
Scar blinks, opening his mouth like he might say something, before he closes it again. Grian pushes himself up and Scar leans close, putting his hand back on Grian’s face, bringing their faces so close together that their noses touch and they breathe the same air, sharing a life force for just a moment.
Grian looks into Scar’s deep green eyes, and Scar stares back, affection and a gentle request in his gaze. Grian closes the distance and presses their lips together, soft and warm, a contrast to the chapped, cold lips he remembers from 3rd Life.
Scar hums, pleased, and sits up just a little, trailing his hand back to hold the back of Grian’s head. Finally, they part, and Grian takes a slow breath as he opens his eyes.
“... That was nice,” Scar says lamely, and Grian lets out a startled laugh.
“We just kissed, I’ve had feelings for you for several years and apparently you’ve also had feelings for a while… and that’s what you’ve got?” he teases. “It was nice?”
“Wha— Well, I’m— I’m bad with words! This was established by the fact that I wrote you a letter!!” he exclaims.
“You’re bad with words?” Grian asks, raising an eyebrow, and Scar blinks slowly.
“No, that— it’s different. Different things. I’m bad with phrasing and you’re bad with reading,” Scar insists.
“I think clearly you’ve made a jab at me and you hate me,” Grian deadpans.
“Oh, yeah, totally,” Scar huffs, rolling his eyes with a smile. “I hate you sooo much. That’s exactly why I confessed my love and kissed you. Definitely.”
“I knew it,” Grian jokes, before shuffling forward to nuzzle into the crook of Scar’s neck, sighing as he wraps his arms around him. “Ughh… I was so anxious earlier and now I’m not anxious anymore, but I’m tired. No one tells you how tired anxiety makes you.”
Scar hums, threading his fingers through Grian’s hair and sending goosebumps over his arms.
“We could probably sleep for a while…” he suggests. Grian sighs.
“No, we can’t, because as lucky as we’ve gotten, this island isn’t very Scar safe, and we’re bound to get attacked sooner or later,” Grian points out, and Scar huffs.
“Well, I think the mobs should just stay away. They should know better,” he comments matter-of-factly. Grian laughs quietly.
“I wish, but unfortunately…” he trails off, but his message clearly gets across anyways, because Scar sighs.
“Alright…” he concedes. “We could… go home together?”
A slow, mischievous grin spreads across Grians face.
“Are you trying to seduce me, Scar?” he teases, sitting up so he can tilt his head and clutch his imaginary pearls. “How scandalous!!”
“I am most certainly not! I am a gentleman, Grian!” Scar replies, aghast. Grian giggles, and Scar breaks, laughing with him.
“Yeah, home sounds good,” he agrees sleepily. “Yours? Or mine?”
Scar hums.
“I’d love to go to my house, but, well… it’s in the sky and I think both of us are too tired for precise landings,” he admits. Grian shrugs.
“I dunno, I think I could do it…” he says, mostly joking. If he really needed to, sure, but he really didn’t want to either. “Nah, you’re right. But if we want to sleep instead of respawn sans our items, we should probably go now.”
Grian notes the distant sound of zombies and skeletons, even a witches cackle, as Scar shifts to sit up and grab his forearm crutches.
“If you insist…” he mumbles, gathering the last of his things. Grian climbs off him and stretches, shaking his head to try and shake off some of the sleepiness.
Grian stands and Scar follows a second later with a grunt, opening his inventory to equip his elytra.
“Ready?” Grian asks as he watches the ghost of Scar’s inventory shrink into non-existence once more.
“Sure am,” he says with a smile.
Grian doesn’t wait for Scar to say anything else, instead pushing off the ground and taking off with a powerful flap of his wings. He hears the sounds of fireworks behind him as Scar follows, and the night sky isn’t so cold this time around with company.