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The ringing of Grian's phone was like a hammer to the head. A social melody that scratched at his ears but only because it was so early in the morning. When he peeked his eyes out the covers, the sky was still dark, so he could use the excuse that he was sleeping to ignore the phone call. It’s not a lie… plus if it was an emergency they would just call again. As he struggled to tone out the nagging noise, the ringing eventually ceased. It was like honey on a sore throat, letting Grian finally relax and lull back to slumber.
Then it rang again.
The avian groaned as he reached his arm in the cold air to reach for his phone which was just sooooooo far. His wings shivered and continued to gently quiver at the action because of the subtle pain. The dark blond squinted at the painfully bright screen and was barely able to make out Scar's name followed by a picture of him on the other side of a dinner table.
They were on a date and Scar decided to make fry tusks and wiggle them around. The photo had one of them breaking off and the fry being blurry right before it hit the table, the brunette not noticing. Grian remembered laughing at the man’s silly antics, the image warms his chest upon even the smallest of glances. He was still too tired to want to pick up the phone though.
”G!” Scar's cheery tone rang out too loudly in Grian’s sleepy ears. He could make out wind and a small key chime that’s muffled. “Are you dying?” The groggy voice murmured, clearly irritated. “What? No-“
“Is someone dying or in danger?”
“Uh no, but-“
“Then good night.” Grian hung up and didn’t bother to put his phone back on the nightstand, he just let it drop by his pillow and let himself get comfortable again, snuggling up under his comforter and using his aching wings like an extra blanket, tucking in his legs all the way to his chest. His pillow was cold and it was great, with the warm blanket, he had a solid few more hours of sleep and he could call Scar back then.
Until he heard a tap on his window.
It went unnoticed, shoved off as just the wind or some pesky bird, being on the second floor lowers the chances of a creep trying to get your attention so Grian wasn’t worried about that. Until it happened again, but lighting can strike twice, or maybe it was starting to rain? Grian didn’t care, he was sleeping. But when it hit the third time, the avian was forced to turn his head and stare at the window on the other side of his room. Nothing happened. But he kept watching, growing worried that if he continued to guard the window his eyes would get bored and find a way to scare him. But the noise happened again just before he gave up. It was no wind or bird, it was a rock, or more accurately a pebble.
Grian whined as he rose, knowing he had to check what was happening as it would either haunt him forever to know or it would just continue. He did feel quite stupid when he opened the window to look down and was hit in the forehead with the incoming ammo. He yelped and stepped back, rubbing his forehead. “Sorry! Oh jeez, I’m sorry, G!” Scar's familiar voice echoed below, making Grian pause and look outside again. Lo and behold, Scar was down there, standing on the grass with a handful of pebbles and wearing that brown leather jacket he was always in. Grian was wrong, apparently, the chances of a creep trying to get his attention weren’t as low as he thought.
“Scar it is 4 a.m., please tell me you are here for more than an 80s film reference. If you pull out a boom box I’ll call the police.” Grian rubbed his face and watched as Scar placed the rocks where he found them along the building. “No of course not! That’s another day. I wanted to show you something! Come down!” Scar's face was nothing but excitement, almost made Grian just hop out the window and fly down just to keep his smile lingering. “It’s too cold.” The blond rested his head on the windowsill and let his eyes drift shut. “It can’t wait till morning?” At this point, he hoped that he was talking loud enough for the other to hear. “Nope! Now!” And the brunette walked off towards the parking lot.
Begrudgingly, Grian slowly stretched his shakey wings out and started to dress warm, not bothering with his hair and hoping this would be quick. His red jumper complemented his wings as they slipped past the homemade slits, applied to all his tops, along with the jacket he shrugged on. The building had steep steps, this was reminded every time he walked on the first step and nearly missed, but eventually, he got to the bottom and felt the chill of fresh air nibble at his nose as he rounded the building to look for his beloved idiot. Grian was still rubbing the crust from his eyes until he did finally spot Scar, not recognizing what he was standing next to. “Scar what am I looking at?” Grian called as he approached.
"Isn’t she beautiful!” Scar shouted it like it wasn’t a question, but a statement. The whole complex could hear the cheery man. He wasn’t really asking for Grian's opinion on its beauty, he was stating it like it was a fact. "It is something alright.” The avian felt his wings shutter, crossing his arms to keep his attitude visible but the warmth was a bonus. The morning air was able to seep through the layers, the black leather jacket gotten from a group costume with Joel and Tim claiming to be the Bad Boys, was doing very well considering.
"What’s it for?” Grian walked around it, noting the shape and color. He knew nothing about bikes but it was still beautiful in its own way. The black color had purple hues on specific lighting and shimmery silver specks like a void. “Hop on and I’ll show you.” Scar was behind him now, leaning down just slightly so the warmth of his breath could tickle the ends of Grian's hair.
The blond turned to face the brunette with furrowed brows. “Can’t this wait till tomorrow?” Saying the second word made his boyfriend recoil, “You didn’t brush your teeth did you?” The skin on his chapped lips cracked around one of the scars across them as they stretched into a lopsided grin. The avian rolled his eyes, “No, Scar, I didn’t. Because I was still planned to be asleep or at least back upstairs by now.” His head gestured around with attitude. Scar laughed and started getting on the bike. “You’re so cranky in the mornings. Just hop on and I’ll bring you back, you won’t regret it.” He patted the backpack seat, unphased by Grian's current glare.
With a large sigh, the avian jumped on the bike and lightly held around Scar's waist as the brunette put on his helmet that was resting on the handle of the vehicle, the light from the lamp post above them revealing its deep brown, almost black color only in the peak of where the light hit it. Scar started the bike, warmth started pooling under their legs and rears from the engine starting up, the light hum sending soothing vibrations. Maybe Grian can take this time to nap?
Scar started backing up like it was a car and… slowly… started moving. Grian tilted his head, confused about why Scar got a bike with an engine but is riding it like it has training wheels. “Scar.” The blond slumped forward, squishing his face into Scar's shoulder blade, who hummed in question. “Why are we going a quarter of a mile an hour?”
Scar was silent as they kept moving. Grian had to fix this before they got to the street. “Scar you can drive this right? Because I didn’t think you could buy one of these without knowing how to ride it.” Grian felt his wings twitch in irritation but there was an undertone of amusement. “I do it’s just that you don’t have a helmet so we are going to ride to the store to get you one and then I’m going to show you what I wanted to show you!” His voice was slightly muffled as the protector covered his entire head. What store is open at this hour?
“I’m responsible for both our lives, Songbird!”
“Scar.”
“Yes?”
“Go.”
“…Aye-aye captain..”
And with that, Scar started zooming, slowing at the turn onto the street and reaching the speed limit, slowing down seconds after. Grian almost flew off, arms tightened around Scar's waist like his life depended on it and it kind of did. The shock made his wings open and close, a reflex to be ready for flight just in case. “VOID, SCAR!” he once again pressed his face on the taller's shoulder. He was able to see and breathe in fast winds, probably the bird in him helping with that, but having protection would be so much better, especially at 4 a.m. when all he wanted was his bed. So hiding his face felt better than fighting the winds, now waking up way more than he was minutes ago.
“Just hide there, birdy, it’s not far!” Grian was barely able to hear the man with the winds and helmet. It reminded him of flying, the wind desperately clawing at his feathers to open up and send him soaring. The morning air always felt different than any other time of day. Maybe it’s the silence that matched it or the freshness of the untainted sky, not yet seen by others who still lay sleeping. You’d think being an avian would give you the “morning bird” trait, but Grian was very much a night owl if anything. Scar was more obviously the morning bird here.
Grian almost did start to fly, holding back the urge to let his wings pick him up with the boost literally slapping him in the face. But he was currently grounded, he never told Scar but Grian knew that the man was questioning it. Grian often walks around with his wings binded, humans not always taking avians lightly. Yes, there were avians all over the server they were in but they were a minority and people have their… opinions. So instead of getting rejected from jobs or risking people throwing a cup of coffee at him, he tightly pressed his wings on his back and just showed himself as fully human.
This caused problems. His wings still move and nothing is broken or even fractured, but they’re in pain. Sure he could open and move them but they were incredibly sore and they had no strength to them, leaving Grian grounded to the earth and staring at the empty sky his tricolored wings could be filling. Scar once asked about it, how he never sees the blond in the air anymore, but Grian didn’t want to talk about it and changed the subject, saying it was nothing or lack of time. Scar always seemed to let it go, but you could tell the thought still caused ripples in his round emerald eyes.
Eventually, the ride came to a pause, the area seemed more rural which meant they were about 15 minutes away from Grian’s apartment complex. “We’re here!” Scars visor was up so his voice was clear as day. Grian picked his head up and studied the building. The lights were on and someone seemed to be in there. “How is this place open?” The blond swung his leg around to hop off the bike without losing sight of the building like it was a temple. “I have a buddy that is helping us with the plan.” Scar had his mischievous voice front and forward as he spun the keys in his hand, thinking he looked cool, his helmet resting under his arm like a soccer ball. What plan?
Grian just rolled his eyes and followed him into the shop, noticing a sign that was flipped so what was written on it was showing inside instead of out. He had heard the chime but it lacked the normal greeting consumers usually are paid to say, instead, it was replaced with, “Finally, Scar. You took forever. Get on with it, so I can go home.” The stranger rolled his eyes and went back on his phone. “Sorry bud! Don’t worry we would get out of here fast enough!” Before Grian could breathe the place in or even speak, he was tugged by the hand to a section near the front with a giant helmet wall. “Any catch your eye?” The man put his hand on his chin and tapped his foot.
Grian was sure he was having whiplash. “I- uhh-“ he isn’t getting a second to assess his surroundings, he’s all spun around. “How about this one!” His wings flung open in surprise, hitting a couple of things but nothing knocked onto the floor, just made noise. The smell of foam and such drowned his senses and forced him to close his eyes as it rubbed his face. “Hey, don’t make a mess, I’m not cleaning it up!” The cashier's voice echoed from the front. Neither the the men replied as Grian finally opened his eyes to see out the assumed helmet.
His vision was just slightly dimmer, but it surprised him how much he could see his surroundings with a tin can on his head. When he looked up at Scar trying to finally say something, he realized that the brunette was struggling to hold in a laugh and pulled out his phone to take a picture. Grian squinted, furrowing his brows, and pulled off the helmet to look at it. It was hot pink with pastel blue flowers and had a red bow on top of it. “Oh- SCAR!” Now he was laughing, shoving the helmet at the taller man’s chest, the previous whiplash melting away and being replaced by mirth.
“Okay okay, let’s just choose a helmet.” The jolly man gave a look outside as if he was expecting something, Grian now noticing the faint undertone of stress. It made Grian's wings bristle in worry, suspicious of what his boyfriend could be looking out for. Instead of asking, Grian took a step back to take in the sight of the wall covered in head covers, sparing a glance outside but finding nothing, so he focused on the task at hand. There were many with different shapes and colors. He glanced down at Scars, taking in its design to maybe match.
After a few minutes of Scar throwing helmets on Brian's head and then making fun of each other, Grian found one that matched Scar's helmet shape with that weird point on the back as if the metal and plastic were flying off with the wind. Except the one he saw was a deep dark red with the slightest hint of purple near the tip and the front seemed to be slightly orange. It had the same shimmer to it that Scars had. The mentioned man glanced over to see that Grian was examining the helmet but wasn’t picking it up, and it being the only helmet that Grian actually had eyes on, Scar sprung into action.
Grian watched as his lover reached over to grab it, dip it around in his hand, and place it on Grian's head for him, more slowly and gently than all the playful times. “This looks like it fits you!” Scar claimed as Grian opened his eyes. The blond shook his head in an attempt to move his hair out of his face from under the mask. “It is pretty comfortable…” Grian fiddled with the visor until Scar reached over to flick it open for him with the button on the side. “And look we match!” Scar placed his own on his head, not knowing that it was one of the big reasons Grian was eyeing this one out of the whole wall. It didn’t fail to make the avian smile.
“Let’s get this one.” Scar insisted, waiting before tugging the shorter man to the cash register for confirmation. The expression on Scar's face was something Grian would cherish for his lifetimes. The glint of glee in those Everest eyes, the toothy grin that stretches the small scars on his face like fabric. Grian had a hard time saying no to an excited puppy, it wasn’t impossible, but he would definitely rather be grounded for an extra year than say no to that sometimes.
So the blond nodded, reaching up to take the protector off but he was pulled away before he could touch it, forced to run through the store, and was nearly tossed into the counter if Scar had stopped a second late. “Heyyyyy, my friend, can I ask you a favor!” Scar rested his head in his hands, his greenish brown helmet removed and placed on the counter as he made puppy eyes at the cashier. “I thought I was already doing you a favor.” This interaction had Grains head for a loop. What the heck is going on?
“Yes but remember how I had two favors to cash in?” Scar waved his eyebrows up and down and had his monopoly voice on that he usually did when he had something to sell or trade. The man behind the counter groaned. “Fine. What is it?” The tired stranger finally put his phone down and glared holes into Scar's skull but the brunette was unphased if he even noticed. Grian suddenly felt a knock on his head, the thumping sound of the helmet he forgot he had on reminded him that it was still on. “Oh-“ Grian immediately took it off and placed it on the counter, “Wait, Scar I didn’t even bring-“ Grian was cut off by Scar putting his arm around Grian shoulder.
“Cash this in as the favor, my good comrade!” His toothy grin matched his voice with that glint in his eye. Grian decided to just shut up, he had no idea what was happening and was interested in Scar's tactic here. “Nope, absolutely not. Dude, do you want a helmet for free? That’s-“ “I’ll owe you three favors.” Scar wiggled three fingers in the air, causing the man behind the counter to shut up, and truthfully, he pondered it. “Or I can come back later and pay for it then but we gotta go, so imma grab this and when I come back you better have made your decision!” Scar put on his own helmet and grabbed Grians, turning the shorter man and pushing him to the door.
The worker didn’t get to even respond to Scar before the early morning breeze peppered kisses on their faces again as they approached the only vehicle in the parking lot other than the green pickup truck a few spots over. “Scar, what just happened?” Grain was struggling to fit his brain around how he woke up this morning, was forced out of bed, hopped on Scar's random motorbike, and just got a free helmet all in around 40 minutes.
“I’m getting you a gift!” When at the bike, the brunette turned Grian’s protector around to look for something, and when he found it, he pushed on it, the click of a button silently chipped in the empty parking lot, doing nothing. Scars furrowed his brow as he flipped the red helmet around like there was something else, Grian was barely able to see his face if it wasn’t for the street lamp above them. “Oh!” He went to press the button on his helmet too but couldn’t find it. Grian watched the biker struggle and decided to try to help. “Here,” Grian laughed as he reached over and held down Scars button, causing the man’s head to tilt slightly from the push. A small light pulsed and Scar hummed in understanding, now mimicking Grian’s action on the red helmet. Grian heard the voice in the helmet and it was placed on his head once again instead of Scar just handing it to him. “How we can hear each other!” Scar's voice vibrated inside the patted shell, a small speaker near Grian's ear making it easier to hear.
Suddenly Scar moved to jump on the bike while inserting the keys. “Hop on birdy, we need to get goin!” Grian watched, not moving to get on the bike, staring at the reflection of his helmet on his head on the bike. What could possibly be a gift that requires all of this especially nearing 5 AM? Reluctantly, Grian wordlessly got on the backpack seat and wrapped his arms around Scar, taking in the warmth from the man as he continued to think.
His wings itched as they drove, he wanted to just open them up and fly off but they hurt so bad that he didn’t think they would carry his weight for more than five minutes. He tried to shove the thought away.
“Scar, what are we doing?” Grian lifted his head up and saw they were riding at the swimming sun, morning dew adding moisture to their revealing skin making them both shiver in spaced-out patterns. “Open your wings.” He heard Scar say through the intercom mimic. A pit grew in Grian's stomach. He never told Scar.
He never told Scar that he was accidentally hurting himself every day for the last few months for hours on end to roam in their judgy little town. He didn’t want to bother the man, make him worry or, knowing Scar, make him think he had to do something for Grian to help. Grian was very used to doing things on his own, taking care of Jimmy, and helping Pearl when they were on their own. It made Grian like to do everything himself, protected by a stone expression and steel walls. The day he met Scar was the same day he noticed someone was using different techniques to knock those reinforced walls down. Trying to knock off the hand-crafted mask that weighed nearly his body weight. So maybe Grian never told Scar that he had been grounded for some time now, can you blame him? The man would just find a way to break his walls again.
“Uh Scar, would that be smart on a bike? Wouldn’t-“The backseat rider had to fight the way his wings itched, beg, shiver at the thought of the opening, begging to be used as something more than a blanket. “Angle them like you’re flying, rising position!” The brunette laughed, surprising the shorter that the bubbly man noticed the difference in wing positions. Grian felt guilty, he was going to ruin the moment while the sky was flushed with pinks and blues and orange, feathered with clouds while the sleepy sun awoke, knowing it had to start the day.
“Scar, listen, I didn’t tell you about-“ and for the hundredth time today he was interrupted, “They won’t hurt once in the air.” Scar's voice was honey and as smooth as it could get through a microphone, many would mistake this as anger or venom or even that it held a tiny of malice but Grian knew it. It was stern but it was also able to coax out the stiffness that pressed his wings to his back. “Wait what? Who told you?” Grian leaned more forward and only slightly to the side as if he could see Scar's face while two visors protected them. “I called Jimmy, and asked him if he would know why you were acting weird- I just- you seemed so uncomfortable when it came to your wings recently, and I know you call him a lot, so he told me.” Scar shrugged, sounding guilty like he was caught with his hand in a cookie jar and still tried to pretend he didn’t. Grian mumbled low enough to almost miss, “That little traitor.” Scar chuckled half-heartedly, “Don’t blame him, it took forever to pry it out his mouth.”
Silence fell on them, nothing but the purr of the vehicle as it moved through the clear street, not exactly awkward but it wasn’t the most comfortable. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” Vulnerability drowned the words like quicksand, insecurity pulling it down faster like a rope. “Did I do something to make you feel like you can’t tell me? Is it because I’m human? Do you think I can’t help you?” It drowns faster, the rope tugs harder. Grian wanted to say something, but he froze. Did he think that? No, he didn’t but did those things have a factor at all? Maybe in hindsight but again not really.
He spoke dispute his drying throat, “No, of course not Scar, I just…” he trailed off. He felt selfish now, even if the option to tell Scar felt worse, this didn’t feel all that much better. “I didn’t want to complain, it was my own fault and I knew you would try to go out of your way to help or whatnot but… I don’t know. But it has nothing to do with you, I promise you that!” He pressed his shelled face between Scars shoulder blades, feeling them relax even through the mask.
“Do you want to open your wings?” Scar's voice was barely picked up by the mic on his end. Grian thought about it. Was this his surprise? Why this and what would it matter? But the crawling feeling that wanted his wings open agreed and loved this opportunity to finally open his multi-colored feathers to see the sky stretched out.
So he did.
He slowly opened his wings, almost wincing at the reflex to start flapping them. The moving two-wheeler was forgotten, but the sprinting waves of the wind reminded him just as easily that they were in fact moving. Grian almost laughed at how silly this all felt under all the other things he felt.
But once his wings were parallel with the ground and the wind mimicked the feeling of speeding through the clouds, they didn’t hurt. Like when you stick your hand out a car window and let it surf the sky. They didn’t hurt and he felt like he was flying, the wind under them pushed them upward and they didn’t have to carry any weight. Grian stretched them out as far as he could as if the stretches he does at home were still too confined, they ached the more he stretched but they felt so much better at the same time. Grian didn’t realize when he started standing on the sides of the bike or when his hands trailed from Scar's sides to his shoulders, trying to reach as high as he could.
Grian reached with one hand to take off his helmet, raising the visor wouldn’t be enough, he wanted the sky to consume him, so he held the pristine helmet with one arm like a soccer ball under his arm and couldn’t help his small smile growing into a larger one.
Sure, he had legs, sure, he could walk and run and open his wings (with great pain as a consequence of his own actions), and whatever he needed to be mobile and survive but he felt like he was in a bird cage. Like his wings were clipped because without his feathers, without his chirps, and without the wind under his wings he feels like he isn’t living. And asking any avian about something like this they would naturally all agree. To fly is to be alive in most cases. Scar's little action of just wanting to take his favorite avian for a ride in the rural area that was mostly sand at this point with the jumping sun and artistic sky multiplied the feeling tenfold.
He closed his eyes and pretended he was higher above. Void, he owed Scar.
~
What felt like hours had passed, and they decided to stop and walk on a large grassy area that had trees sprinkled in. They lay, head next to head opposite from each other and watching the sky finish changing colors as clouds swam through them. Scar's hands folded on his stomach with his brown signature coat laid out under him to protect him from the morning dew. Grian had done the same with his leather jacket, cringing at throwing the thing on the ground to lay on while wet but he would cope with it later, spreading out his wings as far as they wanted to rest, most of the feathers getting wet but it didn’t bother him now.
They mostly laid in silence as the blades of grass dampened their pants where their jackets didn’t reach but it was left ignored when they started laughing at small stories and retold memories.
When silence took hold of them again, Grian decided to lead the new conversation. “Why did you do all of this?” He felt his hair tickle his forehead as the wind played with it. “Because I love you.” The smile was heard in his tone and Grian wouldn’t admit that it made him flustered every time the brunnet said those three words together. “That’s not what I mean.” He laughed, “I mean why did you do this specifically? Why reveal your hidden bike, pull strings for a helmet, time the sun rises, just so I can open my wings? Why did you do all of that? It’s…” the avian sighed, feeling his wings shiver softly as the dew seeped between the feathers. He heard Scar's head turn and mimicked the action, now with matching gazes and Scar's hand reaching up to play with the hair on top of Grian's head.
“Because I love you.”
The Pit of Grians stomach felt warm and light, nearly shocking him how this man could still ignite moths that were attracted to his flame. He couldn’t help but match the lopsided lips of the man before him. He reached his hand up to hold the one that was formerly playing with his own knotted locks.
Scar sighed and looked at the sky that was now mostly blue with faded tins of orange around the edges and studied Grian once more, the blond never looking away. “You know you can tell me things right? You can tell me you’re hurting, you can tell me whatever even if you think I’ll react badly.” Their linked hands squeezed. “You can tell me if you’re seeing shadows in the corner of your vision, you can tell me you need your wings preened, you can tell me about your day even if nothing happened. You’ll never bother me, and I’ll always try to help. You always do the same with me and even if you didn’t I still would.” Scar's thumb started rubbing the outside of Grian’s hand, moving the skin there and spreading warmth like a blanket around Grian’s body even if only Scar's hand was making contact with him.
Grian let his eyes drift closed, the urge to go to bed that haunted him hours before was a whisper now. “I just…” Grian set his eyes back on the blue sky to get a break from the green irises that are forever engraved in his mind. “I don’t know how.” It came out sadder than he hoped, a small wince trailed his “W”.
He feels like a bother or like he’s overreacting or that the only way he could help is the ways he already came up with. Like his wings now were his own fault. He pushed his limit but he can’t stop, he has to keep doing it to go to work and walk around. It’s not required for his survival but it would save him from being a victim of hate crimes or people raising the prices of his products, which they do, they don’t tell anyone but they’re doing it in secret. he’s done the math. He has the problems that he caused and his own solutions but he just can’t do them because of other things he has to keep up with. It’s balanced and he doesn’t want to imbalance them by worrying about himself.
Grain set his eyes still and focused on not letting them wander back to Scar, knowing that his lover's eyes would just be studying him in return. He can’t see that right now. He would finally succeed in breaking that wall. It would be the first time he would ever see him cry.
“That’s okay.” Scar sat up and stretched his arms, walking around to be at Grian's feet. “We can learn together.” and shrugged his coat back on, it glistened with the golden rays of early morning. Creating ripples like water along the wrinkles that flooded his arms, reaching out to Grian like a god; like Apollo reaching for Patroclus at the Trojan war. The Gold light reflected off his skin, and his hair, and created honey pools in emerald-like mossy agitate and Grian could’ve sworn that you could fall in love multiple times with the same person.
The avian was still back flat on the thin layer protecting him from the soil, not moving to get up but lifting his hand so Scar could do all the work, a playful smile tugging on his lips. “Pesky bird.” Scar matched the expression and pulled Grian up harshly, making them both laugh as Grian was shot into Scar’s arms that wrapped around the blond's waist, both stumbling and almost falling to the floor again. Grain was on his toes while Scar was slightly hunched over, having their foreheads resting on each other. Scar’s gaze tore away from the tiger-eye color of Grian's irises and landed on the scarlet feathers that were trailed with daffodil yellow and sapphire blues. Grain felt his wings puff at the attention, and instead of ignoring it or pushing it away, he wrapped them both in a dome of multicolored shade, the transparency of his primary feathers mixing with the sunlight and creating a stained glass effect by their torsos.
“This feels insanely safe.” Scar laughed, reaching to touch their delicate walls, feeling his calloused skin made them twitch, but Scar hadn’t pulled away. Instead, he did something akin to preening and just messed with haphazardly pushed feathers. “You can borrow them whenever you want.” Grian brought his fingers to move Scar's chin, connecting their eyes and followed by their lips.