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pidgeon-brained · 2 years

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Winner Takes It All {rewritten}

Grian is greedy. That he's always known. And he'll admit it too, he likes to have the most of everything. Diamonds and monopolies. He likes to have the best builds and the best traps. He likes to have the best business and the best plans. His greed doesn’t end with goods and projects.

Scar is a fine soulmate. Sure, he's okay, they've got the sand. And Scar always has his back when his plans backfire. Scar has never once turned against him, rarely betrays him and always backs him, even if he knows Grian’s in the wrong. They support each other, they don't always agree but they support each other. And Scar is handsome, he's funny, he's a good business partner and a good friend. He's a good friend.

If Grian needed a business partner, someone to con their friends out of all of their goods, Scar would be his first choice. Friendship points, reputation and a thousand other names for useless offerings. Scar could con a wolf out of its winter coat. There is something to be said about Scar’s abilities, he distracts their friends, talking endlessly about the benefits of having Reputation. Grian digs through chests, searches areas and steals. Just the memory of the collection of shinies he’s taken makes a trill hum in his chest.

Should he attribute the beautiful gifts to his soulmate? The idea makes him shudder. Because to attribute these as gifts is to sully the idea he’s built of Scar. He cannot let this concept set him above Big B. Because Scar is Scar.

He is not Big B. Big B is a religious epiphany. His eyes are a soft golden brown, like warm maple syrup. His smile is soft, breathtaking. He laughs like the warm wind of springtime and his kisses taste like love. He is warm, inviting. Scar is minty, a frigid reminder of too much history. He understands Grian, his greed, his desire. and doesn't constantly send shocks of pain and discomfort down the soulmate string. Big B thinks things through, he's logical, professional and wise cracking. Big B is perfect, and he showers Grian in gifts. It's no surprise he likes that.

He is greedy after all.

Perhaps the universe should have known better, assigning him a soulmate that cannot match his needs. Or perhaps it wouldn't matter, Grian is no stranger to wanting. He has always been greedy, has always needed more than one lover to satisfy his ever complex taste in men. Grian almost wishes it didn’t have to be like this. Almost. Then Big B smiles like summertime and Grian is so deeply in love he cannot help but kiss him passionately. (But then he goes home. Scar presents him with diamonds and shinies and gifts of cool metal. His lips tingle with the kisses of two different men.)

For every warm brush of Big B’s hands there is the cooling touch of Scar. For the springtime and sweetness of Big B there is winter and mint of another. They are each other’s opposites. Big B is sweaters and hot chocolate, he is safe. A crackling fire and a good book. Scar is dangerous, freezing in the winter and being so viscerally aware of your own mortality that all you can do is shake in the snowstorm. He still tastes like heaven, even if it is a cooling sort of burn.

Another thing Grian does not mind admitting: he is not a subtle man. His hijinks are blatant, loud, there is no hesitancy in the way he moves. He has brought destruction upon his enemies in a series of quick thrusts. If he waits, it is impatiently, and if chaos occurs then there was likely no plan to begin with. He revels in destruction. In breaking. He can’t help but make a mess of everything he puts his hands on.

And yet, it is saying something, that he is trying to be subtle. He would like to insist it is to spare the feelings of his soulmate and B's. To lessen the blow to their egos. He knows how much Rendog values appearances, it would be a shame if someone saw his soulmate with his tongue down someone else’s throat. He’d like to insist that is why. The undeniable truth is that he knows what he is doing is wrong.

Wrong of him to so strongly desire someone else’s soulmate. Wrong of him to lust after both men, to hold onto Big B without letting Scar go. To curl against Scar’s chest at night knowing he’d rather sleep in Big B’s arms. He can’t have both. Not like this.

Every cookie he savors in the silence of his empty base is a testament to the future he would much prefer. Every exasperated shout to prevent Scar's imminent demise is a reminder of the kind and caring eyes of another. Big B would never put him through this much trouble. Would never leave him alone in their base worrying for his life.

Despite his greed, Grian cannot say he is familiar with jealousy. He has always taken whatever he wants, no one’s ever stopped him. They’ve tried, but rarely succeeded. Yet that must be what sets his gut on fire when he notices the additions to Big B's wardrobe. The ears and glasses, matching with his soulmate it seems. There is an undeniable appearance of love, of affection, of loyalty. Grian wonders if he's losing him, but then Big B sends a secret smile his way and he knows.

Ren does too.

Not that he'd say anything. Ren notices the looks and the cookies, he sees the hearts in Grian's eyes and the presents hovering around the base. He’d be a fool not to see the lingering touches, or the cologne on Big B’s collar. He ignores them. Because he loves Big B, he loves the way he laughs, and his acceptance of Ren's antics. Big B took Ren's shows of affections and accepted them into his world view. And he believes foolishly, that B will choose him at the end of the day. Besides, appearances have always mattered more to him than love.

They are soulbound after all, their pain is shared. He wonders if Big B can feel Ren's coming down the line every time he sees Grian and B crouched down together whispering. Does heartache count as pain? It should. Big B causes an awful lot of it. Not that he knows that. Would he care if he did? Ren’s not so sure. He wonders if there’s anyone he could talk to. He wants to talk to Big B about it, but he can already hear the stream of half-hearted reassurances. The promises of his undying love. Doesn’t he know how easy it is to love another?

Ren watches them converse, the closeness of their bodies, the smile Grian shares with him. Doesn’t he know everyone can see? Can see the flirting in his eyes, the slow touch that rests on his forearm. His hand slips past his, the red strings slide past each other, catching on the fibers. For a moment it seems like they might meld into each other, become one. It makes Ren want to scream. They are not alone in this world, how can they not see the hurt in their lovers eyes as they interact so carelessly.

Ren turns away from the vulgar display, his hands tightening into fists, he wants to throw himself into danger, reminding Big B who the red string attaches to. Yank him so cleanly from Grian’s arms that it leaves his palms stinging. Ren knows deep down pulling Big B from his arms won’t remove him from his heart. They are inevitably linked, there is no escaping the way they are meant to be. Ren and Big B, Big B and Grian, Grian and Scar. They are a polygon of messy feelings, threadbare strings and hidden romance.

Grian’s laugh carries in a way that makes him feel like an outsider, they walk away from each other, cheery friendship in Grian’s face. His cheeks are flushed, and his hands fiddle at his sweater, one could almost pretend that it’s the cold air making him behave this way. Ren almost thinks he’s imagined it, but there’s a final wave that borders far too close to flirtatiousness.

Ren ignores the longing look shot over Grian’s shoulder as Big B walks away holding Ren’s hand. And maybe it’s petty that he holds on a little tighter, slides a little closer. Maybe it’s petty that Rendog parades around the next day, showing off a long trail of love bites that disappear into his collar. His pride disappears in a foul burst of jealousy when he sees them together again.

He laughs it off as best he can, ignoring the furtive glance from Grian. He knows how greedy the pesky bird is, but for now Big B is his. And maybe, if he puts effort into it, Big B can always be his. He hates that he sounds possessive, that he feels this possessive. But Big B’s red string ends with him, and Grian’s ends in Scar’s and the universe saw it fit to be that way, and nothing can change that. At the end of the day, every heart of damage bounces between the two of them. Grian should stay in his lane.

Ren watches Scar bounce in place, He wonders if Scar notices what he does. Huddled down away from them, keeping his face pointedly turned away. Does he see the touches? The smiles? Does he see the way Grian’s eyes grow warm and secretive when he sees Big B? He wonders if Scar burns with jealousy, if his eyes latch on the way their hands brush. He wonders if Scar sees the poorly covered hickies just below the collar of his sweater. He wonders if Scar even cares.

Scar doesn’t.

At least he pretends he doesn't, it’s easier that way. If he turns a blind eye, or pretends it doesn't bother him. He can keep living like this, can keep imagining that Grian loves him. That Grian wants him. If he blatantly ignores the obvious flirting in front of his eyes. It doesn't hurt as much. Everyone's always said he was clueless, why shouldn't he lean into it?

Scar is good at clueless, good at pretending not to see. Good at ignoring the marks he didn’t leave. He’s good at ignoring when Grian murmurs someone else’s name in his sleep. Ignores how he pulls away a little more each day. He ignores the gifts and the cookies.

So he laughs at Grian's obvious dismissal of his feelings. He spends more time with the jellies and he tries not to notice the way the string seems more frayed everyday. Scar stays out of the house, out of sight, out of mind. If he can’t see Grian, then it doesn’t really matter that he’s being cheated on. Doesn’t matter that he’s being replaced. He knows he's just imagining it. Still, he relishes in the harmless pain he sends down the line. He relishes in risk taking, at least then Grian talks to him.

He relishes in throwing himself off higher and higher cliffs, landing in water he places a mere millisecond before. He smiles as the bird squawks at him to get away from the creeper, to use his shield when skeleton arrows come flying. He wonders if Grian knows he does it intentionally, breaking every rule, putting himself in harm’s way, stealing the enchanter. He’ll do anything, cross any line, destroy them both in the process if it means Grian speaks to him. He just wants Grian’s attention. The undivided love of the pesky bird. What will it take for Grian to look at him like he used to?

That’s the kicker, that Grian used to look at him like he was something. Someone. Back when things were simple, when they had the desert, the sand. When they were friends, lovers even. Scar remembers the feeling of preening Grian’s wings, silky feathers under his fingers. Taking care of him, that’s what Scar had always done. He remembers the soft, gentle noises as he combed through and shaped those feathers. He remembers quiet coos and lips pressed against his unexpectedly. He remembers the desperation of the bird at the teasing of his feathers being played with. Scar would do anything to taste that need again.

He wonders if Grian cares enough to spare his feelings. At least he tries to keep his flirting out of Scar's line of sight. Dragging Big B to the other side of a wall to flirt. Doing it when Scar's trying to barter his friends out of their goods, or when he's off scheming. He sneaks away under the guise of stealing supplies, harassing their friends and gathering resources. The only thing Scar sees him gather is another few bruises to add to his ever growing collection. Scar can’t even remember the last time one of those marks was left by his mouth. At least he isn't so bold as to call Big B a pet name. At least not in front of Scar anyway.

The presents feel too far. The constant showering attention. The presents. The cookies. So sweet, a loving package made with warmth and love. Love. Scar pretends not to notice. He plays the clueless husband so well. Pretending that the chest had always been there. Pretending Grian must somehow have all the ingredients to make his own cookies. He sees the others. They watch Grian and Big B flirt, they see Ren’s fury. The way his eyebrows draw tight and his mouth becomes a thin line. He can’t take his eyes off the two, watching as Grian flirts and flirts shamelessly.

They notice that he doesn't and they shake their heads and share a look. It’s almost tangible, the pity. Sometimes he hears them whispering about him. ‘What a shame’ they say. ‘He’s such a nice guy, he doesn’t deserve that.’ ‘How does he not see it?’ He wonders how they'll feel if he tells them he already knows. How they’d react if they knew he could see it just as clearly.

He can feel Grian slipping through his fingers like sand, running across calloused palms into hands of a gentler touch. Scraping the callouses on Scar’s palm. It reminds him. Reminds him of all of the calloused parts of their love. Betrayal and heartbreak and murder. The grains of sand slip away, harder to catch than the strands of their love line. Maybe that was his mistake. He should've tried to hold on. Should have cupped his hands and prayed. But grains of sand are hard to catch, there's always more than you think. They spill out and fall through the cracks and coat your palm in everything you should have been. He is drowning in a sea of countless grains of sand. Maybe if he could count them all, collect them all and put them back they could fix the broken hourglass of their love. Could restart the clock. Scar was never any good at counting.

At night he wonders about Big B. He wonders what B was that was better than him. Kinder perhaps. Less accident prone. Maybe he was just unattainable. It didn't matter. He rolls away from Grian, who sleeps across the room. He doesn’t remember when he moved his bed. Doesn’t remember when they stopped sleeping in each other’s arms. It doesn’t matter. It’s better this way. Better to roll away than to look into the face of his eventual demise.

Grian is greedy, but maybe Ren and Scar are too willing to give.

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