Chapter Text
“Great seeing you all again!” Grian heard Scar call out as he unlocked the car, undoubtedly giving a big animated wave. “It was real fun getting to rough it out with you!”
“Great seeing you too, dude!” Ren called back. “Get home safe, alright?”
“Call me when you get back.” Mumbo said from where he was getting into his own car, as Grian slipped into the driver's seat. Starting the car and waiting for Scar to get in too, he let himself slump back against the seat momentarily, the exhaustion of the past couple days winning out.
Don’t get him wrong, he absolutely loved his friends, and this yearly ‘retreat’ they all did was one of his favorite things in the world, but he always felt like he went into a bit of a fugue state as soon as it ended. When they were still in uni and didn’t all have their own cars yet, himself included, it was easy to just get in the backseat of whoever’s carpool he was a part of and conk out for the three hour trip back into the city from the campsite they usually went to. Now, though, he had his own car, and while a lot of people still chose to carpool, Grian was also aware that his and Scar’s place was a bit out of the way. Asking his friends to drive that extra time just to drop them off felt unnecessary. And besides, it wasn’t like he was incapable of the drive, it was just a little exhausting. Especially since at this point—after all the activity-packed days and late-nights around the campfire—he was almost running on fumes. It was alright though, because he knew that the satisfaction of finally getting home to his warm, cozy bed would be worth the extra energy.
After a few more moments of Scar chatting with their friends, all piling into their own rides back home, he slipped into the passenger seat, seeming as alive as ever. Grian hummed in amusement as Scar started going on about how much he loved the “Hermit Retreat™,” and smiled to himself in the knowledge that putting on music or a podcast would be wasted effort. Scar would probably talk them all the way home without even noticing.
He reached up to rub at the space between his wings to relieve a bit of the tension there as he pulled out of the campsite’s parking lot, wiggling his toes in tandem—something he’d been doing ever since Scar taught him the trick. Apparently, it was something fighter pilots did when they were getting into formation that subconsciously released tension in the upper body. Maybe it was a placebo or some other weird mind-trick, but it definitely worked regardless, and Grian could not count how many times he was reminded of it when he was hunched over his desk or driving. That was something he loved about Scar, all of his seemingly useless tips and tricks that actually really worked. Call him a lovable idiot all you want—Grian certainly did—when the man knew what he was talking about, he really knew.
“What was your favorite part, G?” Scar asked. Grian hummed, sorting through the past two days of memories in his head.
“Was Skizz jumping the firepit this year or last year?” He asked.
“This year!” He said, like he himself was only just remembering that even happened. “Gosh, that was so unsafe!”
“Well, what was he going to do?” Grian asked rhetorically. In the entire time Grian had known Skizz, he’d never once backed down from a dare. Which, of course, meant that every time they played truth or dare, everyone threw their most insane stuff at him to try and get him to crack. No one had ever been successful, even after a series of admittedly ridiculously dangerous dares that he somehow survived. Jumping the firepit was just another one for the list.
“Fair enough.” Scar laughed. “But really? That’s your favorite?”
“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?” Grian raised an eyebrow, before catching on and sighing. “If you want a sentimental one out of me you'll have to wait until I’m a lot more tired.”
“Darn!” Scar snapped his fingers dramatically. “You’re really not tired enough to be a sap yet?”
“Not yet.” Grian sing-songed. “Can’t catch me that easily, Mr. Goodtimes.”
“Please, Grian, Mr. Goodtimes was my father’s name.” Scar reminded with a fake snooty voice and Grian laughed.
“When we get married you have to take mine.” Grian said.
“But Scar Goodtimes has such a ring to it!” Scar argued.
“And? Grian Goodtimes decidedly doesn’t.” He said, matter-of-factly. “Can’t you ever think of me? How will my peers look upon me?”
“Grian, all of your peers are my peers, and they’re all mostly fine with it!” Scar said, waving off the fact that he does get teased for having the last name ‘goodtimes’ on a pretty regular basis. It was more often in uni, granted, since they’d use it incessantly every time he got even a little tipsy, but it wasn’t infrequent nowadays. “But if you’re really so bothered by it, we can hyphenate!”
“So I’ll be Grian Xelqua-Goodtimes?” He said, shuddering. “I think that might be worse.”
“You know, you sure are invested in this for someone who’s said to me, many-a-time, that you aren’t going to think about marriage until we’re at least five years down the road.” Scar teased.
“Oh, what, so now I’m not allowed to joke about a hypothetical future in which we get married?” Grian asked. “Hypocrite.”
“No, that’s in character for me!” Scar said. “For you this is highly suspect.”
Grian bit the inside of his cheek, rolling his eyes as nonchalantly as he could. “I was just saying.”
Scar hummed. “Sure thing.”
“Hey, Scar,” Grian said, switching the topic as fast as he could manage. “What’s going on with that model in your office?”
“The zoo?” Scar asked, eyes lit up in an instant.
“Is that what that is?” Grian asked.
“What else!” He grinned. “And you really only just noticed it? I’ve been working on it for, like, months now. I’m pretty sure I told you I was building it, too.”
“Well, no, I noticed, I just…” Grian shrugged. “I forgot a lot of the details.”
Scar gave Grian a look before something seemed to click, and he switched into an animated cheeriness in a second. “That’s okay! I’ll just tell you again!”
Grian smiled to himself as Scar set off on a rant, describing in detail the entire project so far, taking a lot of detours along the way to talk about vaguely-related things. And sure, maybe Grian had been bluffing about not remembering, and already knew most of what was talked about, but he’d be damned if pretending to forget wasn’t a good way to change the topic. And, if he was being honest, well…he liked hearing Scar talk, so it was a win-win scenario regardless.
It was as Scar had gotten to describing the in-depth layout of the entire zoo that he suddenly stopped.
“Okay, Grian, my turn!”
“Your turn to what?” Grian asked, yawning in the middle of his sentence. “Talk? Pretty sure it’s been your turn for the past hour.”
“To drive, silly.” Scar said, rolling his eyes fondly. “Now pull over so we can swap.”
“What? No way.” Grian protested. “I always drive us home, Scar. That’s the arrangement—you drive us there, I drive us back.”
“Whoever said we weren’t allowed to change things up?” Scar smiled, the picture of innocence.
Grian looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing! I just want to drive for a little, y’know? I’m getting restless.”
“If you’re getting restless the last thing I should do is put you behind the wheel of a moving vehicle.” Grian snarked and Scar huffed.
“Just pull over.” He said, and, for a reason even Grian himself couldn’t decipher, he actually did. They swapped places pretty quickly, though Grian had to help Scar with maneuvering around the car a bit since his cane was in the backseat and he felt it was too short a move to require it. But soon they ended up in each other’s places, and Grian couldn’t help the way he sank into the passenger’s seat as Scar pulled back onto the road. After a bit, Scar started talking again, though his voice was pretty notably quieter, and Grian found his responses getting shorter and shorter until eventually he was only barely humming acknowledgement at things.
He let his eyes slip closed, the tension dissipating from his body. He leant his head against the window, slumping down some as he got more comfortable and his mind dragged him towards sleep.
—
“Mornin’ sleepyhead.” Scar’s voice cooed at him as he woke up, squinting at the light.
“Are we home?” Grian hummed.
“Sure are.” Scar chirped. “I’ll have to call Mumbo and let him know we made it back safely.”
“Ugh, now we have to actually do Sunday.” He groaned, knowing that even though it felt like an entire day had passed, it had only been three hours since they left the campsite. It was probably comfortably noon by now.
“You could always just sleep it away.” Scar suggested, reaching over to brush some of the hair away from Grian’s eyes.
“No, I’ll be fine.” He said, grunting as he pushed himself up in his seat. “Otherwise Monday-Grian will wring my neck.”
“Not sure how he’ll do that across space and time.”
“He’ll definitely want to.” Grian said, opening the door and getting out of the car. He then went around to the trunk and got his and Scar’s bags out, hiking his onto his shoulder and holding Scar’s by the strap. He went ahead toward the house, but had to wait at the door anyway for Scar to come over and unlock it.
“Ah, home sweet home!” Scar smiled, taking a deep breath as if he was trying to taste the air. “Dontcha just love the feeling of coming home after a long trip? Feels like rediscovering your own living space.”
“We’ve been gone for two days, Scar.” Grian said, dropping their bags in the living room to be dealt with later.
“Long enough for me.” Scar said. “So, coffee?”
“Don’t you have to go get the cats from the sitter’s?” Grian asked.
Scar shrugged. “They’ll be fine a few extra minutes. I know they’re being spoiled rotten over there.”
“True.” Grian said, hopping up onto the kitchen counter to sit. “They probably like the sitter more than you at this point.”
Scar gasped dramatically. “They would never!”
Grian laughed, watching as Scar went on a tirade correcting him and bustled about the kitchen making coffee. It was only as Scar started getting out the half and half that something occurred to him. “Scar! You tricked me!”
“Oh no, what did I do?”
“You tricked me into sleeping through my half of the driving responsibilities.” Grian said, pointing an accusatory finger at him.
“Did not!” Scar defended, his free hand over his heart. “I just asked to swap for a little bit, you falling asleep was completely unplanned.”
“So if I’d stayed awake, we would have switched back at some point?” Grian asked, and watched Scar falter for just a second too long. “Aha! I knew it!”
“In my defense, you seemed really tired!” Scar said. “And apparently you were, since you passed out immediately.”
“I did not ‘pass out.’” Grian said, doing air quotes around the words.
“Oh, you most certainly did!” Scar said, finishing up Grian’s coffee and handing it to him. Grian didn’t miss the fact that Scar didn’t move again to make a cup for himself.
Grian smiled. “But only a little.”
Scar smiled back, nodding. “Yep, sure, only a little.”
“So…” Grian said, blowing on his coffee. “Cats?”
“Yes!” Scar said, jumping into action and grabbing his keys from where he’d set them on the counter. “Be right back!”
Grian didn’t even have time to say anything back before he heard the door slam. He laughed to himself, soaking up the warmth of the mug in his hands. He looked down at it, as if the liquid inside might tell him something. But he knew, smiling down at the coffee in his hands, that whatever it could tell him, he already knew. Grian pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened up his browser, watching as tons of tabs with different engagement rings and articles about proposals lit up on his screen.
Sure, maybe he wasn’t totally sold on marriage yet. And maybe all this was just a fanciful thought that wouldn’t even be acted on for years. But he knew, without a doubt, that if ever he were to get married, it couldn’t be to anyone but Scar.