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Originally, Grian thought the worst thing that could ever happen to him was being dragged out into the desert by Scar, the madman who insisted on taking over the entire land and monopolizing sand. Sand, of all things. Of which there were thousands of blocks of.
Somehow, he was wrong.
The actual worst thing that could ever happen to him, he’s now decided, was waking up with a hard-on while sharing a bed with said madman who was currently spooning him from behind, fast asleep and snoring gently without a care in the world.
He tries to ignore it — he really, really tries. If effort could be quantified, he’d have the highest numbers imaginable. The grand champion of trying. But despite his efforts to just ignore it and go back to sleep, Grian’s cursed with the presence of his comrade pressed against him from behind, and something about the radiating body heat and the tickle of breath against his neck with each steady exhale makes it even worse, somehow.
Okay.
Scar was a heavy sleeper, to put it lightly. Grian could remember several occasions where their pre-lit base was under attack by mobs at night and the man somehow managed to sleep through dozens of zombies groaning and spiders hissing and—
Well, the point was that Scar wouldn’t be waking anytime soon, if his experiences were accurate. Which they were, painfully so, considering all the running around he’s had to do to make up for Scar’s sound sleeping that directly contrasted Grian’s insomnia. How could that man even stomach sleeping in this situation? How could he be so carefree? Grian never understood, and never really cared to. He knows there’s no point in wondering why Scar did the things he did. He was just… like that. Besides, it was safer for the both of them this way, Grian only sleeping when it was stopping his senses from being sharp enough to protect them from any incoming trouble, whether it be mobs or friends-turned-enemies taking the offensive on them.
Grian sighs as he gives an experimental twist of his body, making sure there’s no movement on Scar’s end. Nothing.
His heart is pounding as he reaches down for the fly of his pants, holding his own breath in as he tries to tug the zipper down as quietly as possible. God, was he really about to do this? He’d already tried not thinking about it, trying to ignore it, but his erection was persistent and bordering on painful at this point. Another option was to slip away from the bed to go take care of it, but Scar was particularly clingy in his sleep – on the rare occasion that Grian did agree to sleep alongside him rather than stay perched outside in the cold of the desert keeping watch – and Grian felt it would be even more risky to try to get out of the tangle of limbs and push the larger man far enough away to even manage to get up. So, that left him with one last resort: jerk off while lying right next to his sleeping friend.
Grian swallows thickly as his fingers deftly wrap around his aching dick, pulling it out from the confines of his trousers with an immediate exhale of relief. He’s tense, listening attentively to see if he could pick up on any signs of Scar waking up as he gives himself a few deliberate strokes, a soft sigh falling from his lips as his fist drags from base to tip, chewing on his bottom lip. He feels like such a pervert for even being able to stay hard right now, not to mention that there was some part of him that suspected he may even be hard because of the situation. The fact that at any moment Scar could wake up. The thrill.
Grian’s eyes flutter shut as he finds a steady pace, not as fast as he’d like but too nervous to be quick about it and cause more movement than necessary. Biting back a groan, he squeezes the base of his dick, feeling it throb happily against his palm. He keeps his fist like that, pumping rhythmically with his fingers curled firmly around his length, pre-cum starting to make his hand slick. His breathing is heavy, but he’s able to keep himself from groaning, choking back any noises that he so wants to make as he focuses on the sensation of his hand, wet and warm and tight , chasing relief. He’s never been much for taking his time with these sorts of things, so he’s not exactly worried, knowing he’ll be able to come quickly and–
“…Mmm…” The groggy noise from behind him makes Grian’s blood run cold as he freezes up, hand stilling on his aching length. Please, please go back to sleep, don’t wake up.
“…G? Everything okay…?”
If there was a Hell, Grian was in it. For sure.
Scar was starting to stir. He began panicking, not sure how he could possibly salvage the situation. If he tries to tuck himself back into his pants, the sudden movement will only make him look more suspicious. If he doesn’t, then… well, they didn’t exactly have the best blankets in the middle of a desert on survival mode.
“It’s nothing,” Grian assures, his voice coming out surprisingly steady despite his total lack of composure and thrumming pulse. “Just go back to sleep.”
Usually, there weren't any questions. Scar probably saw him as just as much of an enigma as he saw Scar. And he already knew that sleep often evaded Grian, so it wasn’t like it was a total surprise for him to be up.
No dice, though. Scar lets out a thoughtful hum, not quite sitting all the way up but not moving back to his previous position, either. “You’re shaking,” he comments, voice thick with sleep, hand sliding against Grian’s stomach and nearly making him jump. Cold fingers leave goosebumps in their wake, his skin flushed and warm to the touch.
“Just cold.”
“No you’re not! You’re all warm.”
“ Scar , seriously–”
He cuts off, trying to calm down. It was hard when Scar always acted like this, always so defiant and challenging, like he wants to argue with Grian. He firmly believed that the man lived to mess with him. He sighs in exasperation, his heart still racing with nerves and frustration slowly seeping into his anxiety. Before Grian can think of anything logical to say, any surefire way to get him to drop the issue (as if there was such a thing), Scar speaks, not waiting for him to come up with an excuse.
“D’you want me to help?”
….Huh?
Grian’s face scrunches up, confusion clouding his mind, obscuring his previously crystal clear panic. “With what?” He asks slowly, the gears in his head still turning, only clicking into place when he feels Scar’s hands sliding dangerously low. His breath hitches in shock, eyes widening. He can’t help the way his body immediately tenses up in response.
“Y’know. Help you get off,” Scar clarifies, any traces of sleep gone from his voice. the words are nonchalant, said like it was the most natural thing in the world to say. As if it were no big deal at all. The hands on his lower stomach pause, waiting for the green light to cross a clear but unspoken boundary. Grian can feel a blush creeping up his neck, and he doesn’t even have to turn to know Scar’s grinning, finding his flustered state amusing. He doesn’t speak, though, eagerly awaiting Grian’s response.
“What are you saying ?” Grian finally demands hotly, voice breaking slightly as he trips over his words in his flustered state. “Are you still half-asleep or something? Or did you hit your head while setting up your trap earlier?”
“I’m serious! I don’t mind! Jerking you off, I mean.”
Grian’s cheeks burn with embarrassment. He’s far past the point of even denying that he’s hard, or that he was masturbating, or any of that, too occupied trying to wrap his head around the fact that his ally was offering to give him a handjob. His reaction must have been visceral enough that he didn’t even need to say anything for Scar to pick up on his objection. “What? You wanna come, don’t you?” He sounds genuinely perplexed, though that note of teasing to his voice never disappears. Calloused fingers trace circles along Grian’s abs, making him shiver. He’s admittedly a bit surprised that Scar hasn’t just gone for it by now. The man certainly never cared much for boundaries before now, constantly getting in Grian’s personal space. It was unexpected and… kind of sweet, in a weird way that he’d prefer not to think about.
“...Will you forget this ever happened if I say yes?”
“Nope,” Scar replies without missing a beat, popping the “p” at the end. Grian scoffs. Of course not. He inhales, nostrils flaring as the light, teasing touches along his skin continue, almost like they’re purposefully riling him up. It was working. “Do you want to?” He tries asking instead, hesitance clear in his tone. He’s not sure what he wants the answer to be. Nor why he’s even entertaining the idea.
“Kinda. Is that bad?” Scar chuckles, that signature laugh of his that has always made Grian’s stomach do somersaults, this time even more so than usual when he can feel the hot breath against his ear when he does it. He’s tense, cock still hard and heavy between his legs, waiting ever so patiently for more attention. The thought of Scar wanting to touch him – what does “kinda” even mean? Why couldn’t he ever give a simple yes or no?! – does things to him, heat pooling in his stomach as his arousal returns with a vengeance.
“...No. I suppose not.” Grian speaks with caution, the words slow like he’s still unsure of his answer. He knows he’s tiptoeing on a dangerous border, one that he can’t uncross once he passes it. Especially knowing Scar will absolutely spend the rest of the series teasing him about it.
Scar’s hands wander just a tiny bit lower. “Then can I?” He asks in a low voice, almost a whisper, just as faint as the presence of his touch. Grian swallows, mouth suddenly dry. This was a bad idea. But the fact remains that he’s very much still hard and the man is literally offering. Perhaps wanting. And, really, wasn’t the giver in just as much of a compromising position as the givee? He’s not quite sure how that works.
“Mm,” comes the non-committal hum from Grian, the intonation obviously affirmative but still not a solid reply. “A yes would be nice,” Scar laughs, sensing his reluctance to voice anything that would imply he wanted to be touched. Grian opts not to comment on the hypocrisy of that, to demand that Scar give him a clear answer on whether or not he was into this first. That would open a can of worms that he really doesn’t feel like opening this late into the night.
“...Fine. Do what you want.”
He tries to remain indifferent, but the more words he speaks, the more the need creeps into his tone, a hint of excitement sprinkled within. And when he finally feels Scar’s fingers curl around his cock, he gasps in surprise, hips nearly jerking on instinct at the relief after being neglected for what felt like an eternity. Scar’s hands were much bigger than his, fingers able to get much more coverage. They were coarse, but not in an unpleasant way, just enough to where they created a tingling sensation when they slowly stroked upwards that Grian couldn’t quite describe. A little sigh falls from his lips, the tension in his body slowly starting to relax. “That’s nice,” he murmurs, more of a thought that he’d accidentally verbalised more than something he’d intentionally said. Scar is pleased as all hell, though, to hear it. “Yeah? You like that?”
Oh, God , having Scar respond like that is too much to handle, speaking in a low, lust-filled voice that Grian’s never heard come from him before. He can practically feel the rumbles in Scar’s chest when he talks, and it drives him crazy. He doesn’t know what to say.
“C’mon, don’t get all shy on me now!” The man urges in a playful tone, thumb swiping along the head of Grian’s cock, spreading the bead of pre-cum that had formed there. A choked moan escapes him, a little shiver running through his body that doesn’t go unnoticed. “Tell me it feels good,” Scar continues, lips ghosting against his ear from behind.
“…’Course it feels good, idiot,” Grian grumbles bashfully, cheeks hot.
“Hey! Don’t bite the hand that feeds you. Or the hand that’s touching your dick, in this case.”
Grian groans, rolling his eyes even though Scar can’t see. Which he’s really grateful for, actually, because he’s not sure if he could handle facing him right now. Both metaphorically and physically. This was already embarrassing enough as it is. He didn’t need the other man seeing his expressions, his face contorted slightly in pleasure when Scar twists his wrist just right.
“Shut up, Scar,” he hisses, out of breath.
“Ohhh, no can do, Grian. For starters,” Scar murmurs, blowing hot air against his ear and making him yelp. “I need to know how you like it. Slow? Fast? Or maybe you want me to tease you a little bit?” The longer he listens, the more Grian wants to crawl into a hole and perish. His face was practically steaming, unsure how the other man could so shamelessly ask him stuff like this.
“Just… keep going like that,” he replies, his voice coming out shaky despite his efforts to sound unaffected. He was shaking slightly, his smaller frame easily swallowed up by Scar, who simply chuckles at his attempt at indifference. They fall into a mutual silence, one that’s only as tense as it should be with Scar pumping his fist up and down Grian’s dick.
A sigh that dips up into a moan at the end falls from Grian’s lips. He’d been about halfway there before he’d been interrupted, and the fact that it was someone else touching him made his orgasm approach rapidly. That Scar was touching him.
“Close?” Scar whispers, seeming to notice just how much Grian was trembling. “Mm,” Grian nods, chest rising and falling with each heavy pant. The word “please” is on his lips, but he clutches onto his remaining strands of shame like a lifeline to keep from saying it. He tries not to entertain the idea of Scar edging him, remembering how he’d asked if he wanted to be teased and God , he did. He wanted Scar to make him beg for it. And now really wasn’t the time or place to indulge in a fantasy which he’d only just become aware of moments ago, but the image wouldn’t shake itself from his pleasure drunk mind, and it’s what pushes him over the edge.
With a choked gasp, Grian comes, back arching as his body seeks more, riding out his orgasm while the large hand wrapped around his throbbing cock continues to work him through it.
“That’s it…” Scar soothes from behind in a husky voice, a generous amount of thick cum spilling out around his fingers. “There ya go.”
Breathing heavily, Grian slowly comes down from his high, a thin layer of sweat making his bangs cling to either side of his forehead. “Good?” Scar murmurs, not moving from his spot, simply releasing his hold on Grian’s dick and shifting to get comfortable.
“…Yeah,” Grian replies in a sheepish mumble, trying to sort out his thoughts. He could still hear his own pulse thumping away, mingled with the sound of blood rushing in his ears. “T-Thanks.”
“Mm. Welcome.”
A content sigh falls from Scar’s lips, as if he was the one who’d just gotten off. Which brought up a concern in Grian’s mind, one that made a blush creep up his neck and paint his face a brilliant shade of red. Right. Okay.
Just as he finally steels himself to tiptoe into the territory of reciprocation, Grian hears the oddly slow and steady breathing of the man laying there with him. His brow furrows.
“…Scar?”
No response.
Grian twists his neck to try to glimpse behind him without moving too much, already having an idea of what he’ll see — sure enough, Scar’s fast asleep, wearing a peaceful expression, eyes fluttered close.
How Scar could possibly have fallen asleep that quick, Grian hasn’t the slightest of ideas. He scoffs, unsure what to do with himself now; despite how nervous he’d been at the prospect of getting Scar off, there’s a part of him that’s a little disappointed. And considering he’s not keen on sleeping anytime soon, he finds himself stuck with his thoughts, getting flustered over what had just occurred. Was Scar into him? Or was it just sort of a “friends help friends out” sort of scenario, where it wasn’t meant to be weird and he was the one totally overthinking it? God, he hated navigating these types of things.
Ultimately, he decides to make it tomorrow’s problem. He could deal with it when Scar was awake and…. well, unless Scar were to somehow miraculously forget about the whole thing overnight or think it was a dream. Two scenarios that weren’t exactly out of the question, knowing him, but Grian doesn’t have enough faith in his current luck to bet on it.
He just hopes that Scar won’t tease him too much.