Chapter Text
Scar feels tired. Really tired. Not his usual, ‘didn’t get enough sleep the night prior because he was up calling Grian’ tired, but the kind of tired that makes him want to just curl up into a ball, in his bed, preferably with Grian, and do nothing but lay there and rest. He's exhausted, physically and mentally exhausted, and he isn't enjoying it in the slightest.
Not only is he tired, but he's being expected to work in a group in his carpentry class, and right now communicating with other living beings is the absolute last thing he wants to be doing. On top of that, his group is expecting him to do the maths part of it! Him! Why him! Scar sucks at maths, so whoever decided that he should be the one to do it, is quite frankly, stupid.
Okay, maybe that’s a little harsh, they don’t really know Scar, but he’s definitely feeling very put out by it.
An hour and a half left to go… an hour and a half, and then he can go home. Finally.
But… there's no Grian at home, and it’s a Wednesday, so that means Grian isn’t going to be leaving the college for at least another hour after Scar - he likes to study in the library with Jimmy and Gem, or whatever, though Scar’s not sure how much studying they actually get done based on the stories Grian has told him. Either way, this means that Scar won't get to see Grian before he leaves to go home, unless… he could drop by the library for a quick hug and a smooch first?
“Scar, what measurement did you get for the-” The voice of one of the girls in his group pulls him out of his thoughts - ah, right, he’s the maths guy.
This is going to be a long hour and a half… well, an hour and twenty eight minutes now. Slightly more bearable. Slightly.
✎・❥・☁︎
Grian is supposed to be focusing on the tortoise enclosure he’s currently spot cleaning, and typically he does really enjoy his course, but it’s hard to enjoy anything when all of your thoughts are currently on your boyfriend, and worrying about said boyfriend, and the fact that there’s almost definitely something going on. It's physically paining Grian that he doesn't know what that something is.
And- okay, he can’t be entirely sure that something is wrong with Scar, but he’s definitely been out of it. He’d seemed fine this morning! But earlier on their lunch break.. not so much. Again, Grian isn't sure what is actually wrong, but there has to be something.. right?
Scar had been quieter; he hadn't spoken much. He'd just... he'd just cuddled up to Grian's side for most of lunch. That in itself isn't unusual or out of character, but there was a noticeable lack of movement from him, and a severe lack of interest in the conversations around. Scar's always the first to give his opinions on something when someone in the group asks for advice - just like Gem had, but to no avail, Scar hadn't so much as lifted his eyes from the threads of Grian's burgundy sweater.
At least Grian knows he hasn't done anything to upset Scar, if he's still happy to cuddle.
Right?
At least he hopes not, upsetting Scar is the absolute last thing he wants to do.
“Grian, have you changed Shelley’s water?” His tutor. Right. He’s meant to be doing something.
He’ll just have to talk to Scar later, hopefully he can catch him before he goes to the library to meet up with Jimmy and Gem for their study session.
✎・❥・☁︎
The second that Grian is let out of his lesson he rushes to his department's changing room to remove his PPE. Scar knows that Grian studies with Jimmy and Gem after class on a Wednesday, therefore he always goes straight home on those days. Grian does not want to miss him.
One thing Grian has learnt about Scar is that he isn’t very comfortable opening up over text, he definitely finds it easier if Grian is there to hold his hand, or offer a body to huddle up to, or both. Grian doesn’t know what is troubling his boyfriend or how serious it is, but he wants to be there for him before Scar’s left for home and he's stuck trying to console him through a keyboard.
Annoyingly, when he gets to the changing room, the door is locked. Just his luck.
Grumbling curses under his breath, he retreats to one of the classrooms nearby and pops his head in, asking if they have a key and could kindly unlock the door for him. Luckily they do, and the teacher supervises whilst Grian peels off his overalls, revealing his regular day-to-day clothes as he then changes back into his converse from his boots. Grabbing his satchel from the corner of the dingy, muddy and slightly damp carpet, he slings it over his head - before shoving his boots and overalls into a spare carrier bag that he brings with him. The bag crinkles as he forcefully shoves his belongings down, struggling for a moment to make them all fit in his hurry.
Sharing a quick thank you with the teacher and flashing a small smile, he bolts out of there.
He checks his watch, 4:36, not bad. Scar’s carpentry tutor usually lets his class out a little late anyway, though the carpentry classes are taken across campus in another department, closer to the exit of the college. Unfortunately, Scar does have an advantage on that front.
It's then that it hits Grian that he doesn't actually know where he's going. Is he just going to wait at the exit in hopes that he catches Scar without him unknowingly passing? In hopes that he hasn't already left?
Oh wait,
He can call him!
Oh wait.
He could’ve called him.
Ah. No worries, he can… still do that, it just means he’s been rushing around like a headless chicken up until now for no reason.
You idiot, he mentally curses himself.
With his free hand he digs his phone out of his pocket and flips it over so that he can see the screen - nearly dropping it in the process. Walking slowly with his head down, he struggles to enter his password with only one hand. He manages, eventually, and flicks over to his contacts page - where unsurprisingly, Scar’s name is sat right at the top.
Bleep!
✎・❥・☁︎
Scar is utterly exhausted by the time his class ends and his tutor says that he can leave. His body feels weak all over and he swears his throat is starting to feel scratchy whenever he swallows. Although that could definitely just be the result of Scar - mistakenly - taking his mask off to dab his nose when his teammate was mid-saw. The copious amounts of wood dust he’d likely inhaled from that couldn’t be doing great things for his lungs.
Either way, Scar wants nothing more than to be at home right now. Well- there's one thing he'd like more. He's decided that actually, after struggling to work out ten too many measurements, that he needs to see Grian before he leaves. It's not longer just a want, but a need.
He makes no rush to get to the changing rooms and undress himself of his borrowed PPE - he doesn’t have his own like Grian does, or well, he does, but he always forgets it - one size too small for his frame, the legs cutting off a little higher than they should and boots that are both made to be worn on left feet. It’s not the nicest or most practical situation to be in (quite literally, in), sure, but it’s that or he loses points towards his grade, and that's not something Scar is too keen on.
His head is now pounding and Scar can't seem to place when that had started, but he tries his absolute best to ignore it as he kicks off the borrowed boots and fights himself out of the overalls. The fabric clings tightly to his own clothes underneath and it's a real struggle for him to get them off - though he does eventually, with the presence of many grunts and groans, and grumbles under his breath. Finally he slips into his own, comfortable, and more importantly, not both left-footed boots.
For a moment he considers sitting down on the rickety chair that has been shoved in the corner of the changing room - it’s been there for months, no one knows why or how it got there, but no one has removed it either - but his tutor comes and grumbles at him and tells him to hurry up, trampling that idea instantly.
Scar rushes out a sheepish apology, reaching for his backpack and throwing it over his back - he wastes no more time in getting out of there.
Once he’s outside, Scar sighs. His body is really starting to ache. It feels like he’s dragging a dead body behind himself with every step he takes.
The library that Grian should now be at, (Scar decides, after checking his watch and seeing that the time is 4:37) - huh, his tutor must have let him out earlier than usual - is a little ways away across campus, and unfortunately for Scar’s poor body, up two sets of stairs.
Maybe he’ll just sit with Grian and the others for a while once he gets there. He doesn’t plan on doing any studying, but would anyone mind if he sat with his boyfriend for a while? Probably not.
Perhaps if they're lucky they can even secure a spot at the back, hidden away by bookshelves and out of the way of any cameras so that he can rest his head in Grian’s lap. His boyfriend might even rub his back whilst he reads out whatever information for whichever topic the group are studying. Scar might even be able to close his eyes for a bit, maybe he can catch some much needed sleep.
Actually... yeah. That all sounds perfect right about now.
It’s as Scar is busy lost in daydream that his phone starts ringing. He reaches for his joggers pocket and- ah.
It’s in his backpack. Great.
After considering not answering for a few seconds, he decides that he should probably at least check who it is. For all he knows it could be his mum - maybe they’ve run out of milk again and she wants Scar to pick some up on his way home.
He grumbles and grunts as he slides his bag off his back and drops it onto the concrete floor, wincing at the harsh and all too loud sound of his metal bottle clanging against it through the fabric, before beginning the dreaded activity of digging through all of the shit he’s chucked in his bag as of late - letting it build up and up until eventually, he will have to clear it out.
He finds his phone after some struggle and manages to hit accept seconds before it transfers over to voicemail, and grins softly once he sees the name on the screen. ‘Grian ❤️🐭’
“Gria-!” He beams, voice catching on an uncomfortable croak when he hears a beep of the call ending.
“Shit-”
✎・❥・☁︎
Grian’s eyes are glued to his phone as the call rings, and rings, and rings; after so many rings pass that he loses count, he regrettably comes to the conclusion that Scar isn't going to answer, and is milliseconds away from force-ending the call - when it connects.
Unfortunately those milliseconds aren't enough for Grian to change his course of action, and his finger still hits the end call button, despite his brain screaming at him not to do that.
"!-Grian"
“Shit-”
Hold on, did someone just call his name?
His head shoots up, eyes darting around - only to realise that what he’s looking for is sitting in a little sorry blob on the floor in front of him. Standing - but not actually standing - at less than half his height.
Scar.
“Scar?” Grian calls his name in the tone of a question. Baffled, he wonders why his boyfriend is- well, where he is, and after taking in Scar's appearance, his earlier worry grows a considerable amount. His forehead is shiny with sweat, stray hairs clinging to the skin and there's a slight red hue painting the underside of his nose. He doesn't look well, and wow-wee does his voice sound rough.
Scar blinks once, twice up at Grian, before a dopey smile crosses his face. “Grian?” He parrots back, his voice higher pitched than usual. All of his hopes and dreams have essentially just come true all in that one moment. “Grian!” He calls again, voice coming out a little more croaky than before as he rushes to try and stand up, though suddenly there’s a hand in front of his face, which he happily takes and uses to assist himself in the rise from his knees to his feet.
Grian helps Scar up, huffing with the effort it takes. “Woah, careful!” A small giggle breaks its way out of him as Scar stumbles forwards, nearly into his body. It’s not until now that Scar is eye level with him that he can really take in the haziness of his eyes, and the dazed way in which he’s carrying himself.
“What are you doing, Scar?”
Watching as Scar’s brows furrow and he falls silent, Grian mentally facepalms. “On the floor, you idiot.” A look of realisation crosses Scar’s face and Grian can’t help but lovingly scoff. “And where were you going? I thought you would’ve been on your way home.”
“Oh. Uh- oh, oh!” Scar flaps his hands, gesturing vaguely - what he’s trying to get at with the gesturing is completely lost on Grian. “I was coming to find you! In the-...” Realising that Grian had been walking in the complete opposite direction of the library, he falters. “..library…? What are you doing?” An accusatory finger is pointed at Grian and a sigh escapes him.
“I.. I was going to the library today, but I wanted to come and find you first. I want to talk.” There’s a scatter of nerves that lace his voice. “Are you okay?” He starts and then pauses - letting Scar digest his words - before continuing. “I noticed you were a little off during lunch. You didn’t talk much, and usually-” He laughs, small and fond. “Usually you never stop talking.”
“You didn’t really eat either.” He adds in a strained voice before continuing on. “The point is! You could be totally fine, and maybe I’m wrong, but I’ve just been kinda…” He hesitates. “Worried?”
“Oh.” Scar sounds dumbfounded, as if he hasn’t noticed any differences in his own behaviour. He has.. but he’s just tired. Right?
With his lips now parted in thought, he takes a moment to process Grian’s question. “I think I’m okay..?” It comes out as more of a question than a response when he does answer, as if Grian is supposed to have the answer to his own question.
Grian blinks blankly at Scar - what does he mean he thinks he’s okay? Is he or is he not!
“What on earth do you mean you think so? Scar you’re either okay or you’re not! Be honest with me dude, please. Have I done something?” Grian regrets his harsh tone and blatant show of irritation immediately - gaze faltering, he's unable to hold Scar’s already sporadic eye contact.
Scar however, completely outraged by the mere suggestion that Grian has done anything wrong to upset him, and not at all taking offence to his tone of voice, breaks out with a yelp of “Oh my god! Grian no! What makes you think that? I’m just tired, I’ve been tired all day! I think-... at least, that's what you must've noticed.”
“I’m sorry that I worried you Birdie.” The apology follows almost immediately after, and the guilt on his face is painfully obvious, as well as a sharp knife in the gut for Grian.
Holding a troubled gaze, Grian can feel his knees weaken beneath his body. He manages to latch onto something Scar said though, a means of changing the subject from the seemingly endless loop of growing guilt. “I told you to stop calling me that..” Grumbling weakly, he can’t quite help the thin smile that takes on his face, or the small dimples that form in his cheeks.
This whole time their hands have been connected, neither one wanting to let go. Now Scar uses that to his advantage to gently soothe Grian, thumb grazing across his soft skin as a smile that perfectly matches Grian’s takes place on his own face. They look rather silly, smiles bouncing off one another and becoming even bigger with each passing moment. “You said you prefer it over mousey.”
Grian rolls his eyes, a pointless gesture of trying to show his annoyance, annoyance that was nothing more than an act. “That’s because Mousey sounds ridiculous! And I said I prefer it, that doesn’t mean I want you to call me it.”
Scar smirks. Stepping in closer, he drops one of his hands from Grian’s and uses it to pinch his cheek. “I’m sorry Birdie but it’s one or the other.”
“Wha- hey!” Grian yelps, letting go of Scar’s other hand in favour of batting the one pinching his cheek away, somewhat reminiscent of a cat knocking something off of a counter. For whatever reason this sends Scar into unrestrained, uncontrollable laughter.
Watching with slight concern - Grian winces as Scar doubles over, clutching his stomach and wheezing. This is unfortunately cut short by a sudden, harsh, chesty cough that drastically spikes Grian’s concern. It’s the kind of cough that you know has to hurt - the kind that brings tears to your eyes and leaves a rawness behind, one that causes the entirety of your throat to feel sore and uncomfortable for… a lot longer than you’d hope.
“Scar-” Rushing to wrap an arm around his waist and steady him, pieces start to click into place. He waits until Scar's coughing has started to ease and he looks at least semi-composed before reaching into his boyfriend's bag and digging out his water bottle. He hands it to him with the cap off, helping him steady it as he brings it to his lips to take a sip, or two, or three as Grian insists he drinks more.
“Okay, okay G-” Scar coughs as he nudges the bottle away from his lips. “That’s enough, thank you.”
Lowering the bottle and screwing the cap back on, Grian glares at him with skepticism. “Are you okay?” The small nod he gets in response doesn’t do much to ease his worry. “Like seriously Scar, not just because you nearly coughed your insides out. You say you’re just tired but I’m not sure I believe that.” Bending down, he puts the bottle back into Scar’s bag and does up the zip.
When he stands back up he draws in a breath, trying to rid himself of some of the nerves building up inside of him. Cocking his head ever so slightly to the side, he starts to speak again. “You look…” Flushed, he decides. Scar’s cheeks are pretty red, and there’s that same sheen of sweat still covering his forehead. “..hot.”
Scar’s smirk catches Grian entirely off guard, as well as his still croaky - but upbeat and cheery tone. “Oh, how sweet of you to say!” It’s about as sing-songy as a dying pig, but he’s trying.
It takes a moment for Scar’s words to register for Grian, but when they do his jaw snaps shut and he slaps Scar in the arm. “Not like that! Well- yes you are… attractive, but I mean literally, you look physically hot.”
Watching as Scar’s smirk grows and grows, Grian realises that what he’d just said was not an improvement from his previous statement whatsoever. Decidedly he doesn’t play into it, his concern for his boyfriend overpowering any usual desire he has to be silly and he instead presses the back of his hand to Scar’s forehead.
Clammy, definitely clammy. Scar’s skin is soft, but also undeniably warmer than usual - awfully out of place in the otherwise chilly air. Sighing, Grian drops his hand back to his side. “Scar, are you sure you feel okay? No runny nose…? A sore throat?”
Grian instantly picks up on the way Scar seems to think for a moment, followed by a clearing of his throat - a small ‘a-hem’ that makes his boyfriend wince. “It hurts, doesn’t it?” He finds himself prompting gently, stepping in closer again and resting his hand gently on Scar’s arm.
Pouting, Scar dips his head in a small, almost child-like nod of admittance. It both breaks Grian’s heart and fills his cold body with the warmth of fondness. Rubbing Scar’s arm, he speaks with loving empathy. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I- I thought I was just tired.” Scar’s sheepish and maybe even slightly more red-faced as he admits it.
“You’re ridiculous.” Bites back Grian with nothing other than love for Scar and his antics. He wouldn’t change any of him for anything.
“Meanie.”
“Doofus.”
“Hey-!” Scar yelps sharply and Grian just giggles at him, amused. “Okay dingus, come on, I’m taking you to bed.” Reaching past Scar, he picks his bag up off of the floor and slings it over his shoulder, resting it above his satchel. He delights in the little ‘eep!’ that escapes Scar from behind him.
Biting back a small smirk at the sound, Grian starts to walk forward - he knows exactly how his words had sounded and doesn’t regret speaking them even one tiny bit.
“Wait-” Scar calls from behind him after a moment. Spinning around when he feels dainty fingers brush his wrist, Grian manages to keep his amusement at bay as he hums out a “Hm?” and tips his head to the side in a questioning manner.
“Don’t you need to study?” Scar asks and the receiving scoff he gets from Grian has the tone of ‘are you being serious right now?’
“Jimmy and Gem can manage alone for once, I-” Grian points at himself, the carrier bag still in his hand swinging and rustling between them with the movement. “-have a sick boyfriend to take care of.”
Grian doesn’t miss the awed smile on Scar’s face as he grasps his cold hand in his own. Giving it a small tug, he starts to walk them in the direction of home.