#c!xisumavoid

GRIAN

Grian doesn’t do anything in half measures, and Valentine’s Day is no exception.

Dresses up so fancy for you.

I’m talking button-up shirt with the cashmere vest, heart-shaped glasses, and the shiniest accessories a pesky bird can get his hands on.

First thing in the morning, he’s knocking on your door- or, if that doesn’t work, your bedroom window- with a basket full of your favorite treats and his very biggest smile :)

It doesn’t matter if you’re a morning person or not, he is determined to spend as much time with you as physically possible; what else would he be doing? Finishing his base, like a loser?

Think: Grian bundling you tight to his chest as he takes you on a sunset flight, weaving through the sky just to laugh at you when you shriek, and feel his heart beat harder in his chest when you smile at him in that half-exasperated half-fond way.

Think: Grian doing anything to earn a smile, from reciting the cheesiest pick-up lines he can think of to blasting your favorite music and singing along with you.

Think: Grian dropping you off at your base, only for you to pull him into a long, slow kiss. When the two of you part, he’s bright red and grinning like an idiot.

He’s your idiot, though, and don’t you forget it.

XISUMAVOID

As the server admin, Xisuma is very busy, but he always makes time for you.

He picks you up from your latest project at dusk, his armor polished and elytra gleaming in the waking starlight; every inch a knight straight from the pages of a fairy-tale.

Xisuma greets you like one, too, pressing a featherlight kiss to your palm before he sweeps you away with a flicker of code.

Valentine’s Day is a moment where everything pauses, for the both of you. There are no obligations, no worries, nothing beyond the two of you.

Together.

Think: Xisuma tangling his legs with yours under the dinner table, attentive even though you’ve been talking for thirty minutes, and the food he’d prepared for you long gone.

Think: Xisuma allowing you to play with his hair as you make your way through a rom-com marathon, dryly critiquing the plots and characters until you’re a giggly mess.

Think: Xisuma watching you slowly fall asleep in his arms, still as a statue even though his legs have fallen asleep and you’re drooling a little bit onto his shirt.

Living on the Hermitcraft server was an… interesting experience.

More often than not, you were stepping out of your base to find your friends in the crux of some crazy scheme, stalking other players while disguised as trees, running about willy-nilly on the hunt for a dragon egg, or spawning in thousands of boats to make the lag caused by the Redstone farms look like child’s play. 

You had gotten used to the chaos, even grown to appreciate it during both of the wars that Grian had started, but it was still a shock for you to wake up to find the entire server blanketed in a thick sheet of sparkling snow.

Your breath clouded in the chilled air as you walked along one of the Boatem pathways, your hands tucked tightly into the pockets of the thick winter jacket you had scrounged up from the deepest parts of your storage system. Frost crunched under your boots with every step, the shimmering green-blue of the mending enchantment shining through even the ice that had built up over the few minutes you had been out and about.

It was like the entire server had been overtaken by a tundra biome, the snow swallowing up the sounds of the world and leaving only the sound of wind. It seemed like there was nothing around for hundreds of blocks, as you stared out across the server. For a moment, you felt like you were the only person in the world.

That illusion was shattered as soon as you glanced to the side to see Cleo’s grinning face.

You yelped, jumping almost two blocks into the air as the redhead cackled, patchwork face twisting into a brilliant grin full of mirth and light.

“C-Cleo!” you gasped, resting your hand on the pommel of your netherite sword. “You can’t just scare me like that!”

“But it was funny!” she protested as soon as she got her laughter under control, still grinning like the absolute madwoman she was.

You puffed your cheeks out in a pout, crossing your arms over your chest with a dramatic huff. “Meanie.”

You paused.

“By the way, where is everyone? You’re the only other player I’ve seen since I woke up this morning.”

Cleo’s eyes lit up, and the undead woman excitedly slung an arm over your shoulder. “You didn’t see the message on your comm? Well, no, obviously, but Xisuma sent one out earlier. So, you know how we normally have a Christmas district? Well, since we don’t have any districts this year, we’re all getting together to make the entire server holiday-themed.”

You brightened, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Oh? That sounds cool!”

Cleo laughed once more, green eyes glinting merrily in the sunlight. “I know, right? The meeting’s starting in about an hour, so we should probably get going.”

You ducked out of her grip, giggling at her faux-wounded expression, and summoned your rockets from your inventory, shifting your coat to allow your elytra to extend fully. You had always found them pretty, the iridescent membrane sparkling all colors of the rainbow as soon as the light hit them.

Shooting a short wave to Cleo, you launched off the ground with a whizz of a rocket, carving an arc as you flew through the cloudless blue sky. Behind you, you could faintly hear the sound of the other player following your path over the sound of wind rushing through your ears, and you huffed to yourself as she playfully darted underneath you.

Dipping and weaving like dragonflies, it wasn’t long before the pair of you caught sight of the spawn point where everyone was supposed to gather. Already, you could make out the figures of the other server members swarming the area, the height at which you were flying making them appear as though they were as big as ants.

You smirked. Better give them a show.

Folding your elytra completely, you allowed yourself to dip into a free-fall, air shrieking past your ears and dragging at your clothes. You laughed, the sound being thrown back at you as you tumbled through the air, the giddy feeling that always came with flight bubbling up into your chest.

The ground rose to meet you, and before you could splatter all over the ground, you banked out of your dive, landing with a solid ‘thud’ right behind Mumbo Jumbo, successfully scaring the ever-living daylights out of the tall Brit.

“What’s up, potato boy?”

“Oh my goodness!” he cried, pressing a hand to his chest in a manner that reminded you of a genteel Victorian woman. Cleo landed behind you, grinning wryly as she moved to pat the man on the shoulder.

“Sorry about that Mumbo,” she said, completely not sorry. “Managed to spook them earlier, and you know what they say! ‘What goes around, comes around’.”

Mumbo blinked, fearful features morphing into bewilderment. “What? I don’t- I don’t think that’s how that works-”

The spud was cut off by the sudden appearance of another Hermit, their crunching footsteps approaching from behind you.

“What’s going on over here?”

Immediately, you felt heat rush to your cheeks, and you scowled at the equally teasing looks both Cleo and Mumbo shot at you. Steeling yourself, you turned yourself around to see Scar approaching, a confused but happy grin affixed to his face.

The usual maroon suit he wore had been discarded, replaced by a thick overcoat that swirled around his feet as he walked, collecting a thin layer of snow. A plush olive green scarf was clumsily tied around his neck, and your fingers twitched as you repressed the urge to fix it for him. When his eyes landed and locked on yours, you felt like you had been punched in the gut, all of the air whooshing from you in one heavy breath.

You recognized this feeling.

The way your heart seemed to stutter and come to a screeching halt in your rib cage, the way you felt as though you had contracted altitude sickness, light-headed and struggling to breathe, and how your hands seemed so much sweatier than usual. (It was kind of gross, to be honest)

You had a crush on GoodTimesWithScar.

“O-oh, hey! I wasn’t sure if you were coming or not!”

Scar’s words broke you out of your daze, and, as you shook your head subtly to clear your thoughts, you smiled at him, trying not to let any of your embarrassment show.

Judging by Cleo’s stifled giggle, you didn’t think you were a hundred percent successful.

“I didn’t see Xisuma’s message, but, ah- Cleo here rounded me up quickly enough to get over here on- on time,” you explained, fiddling with the zipper of your coat nervously. Gods above, it was so annoying how much Scar’s mere presence affected you, sending butterflies fluttering through your stomach and tying your tongue into knots.

Scar grinned, that same damn grin that lit up his entire face and made it something beautiful, ethereal, almost.

“That’s amazin’! Thanks, Cleo! I don’t know what I’d do if my best friend weren’t here!”

Ah. There it was.

You had a crush on GoodTimesWithScar, but it could never be anything more than a crush because the man was your best friend. Your partner-in-crime. Someone who you could trust with all of your deepest, darkest secrets.

But not this one. Never this one.

You chuckled, trying not to let the pain you felt show. “Right.”

Any further attempt at a conversation was quickly doused by Xisuma’s sudden appearance, the Hermitcraft admin teleporting in front of everyone in an explosion of rioting green and purple code.

“Alright everyone,” he started, bringing his two gloved hands together with a clap. “Let’s get started with this thing, yeah?”

As you listened to the British man’s spiel, it turned out that everyone had gathered together in order to enlist in the ‘Christmas-ification’ (as Grian so eloquently put it) of the server. What impressed you the most about the entire endeavor, however, was just how much of a tactical operation it was. 

Xisuma had organized the effort in such a way that different teams of Hermits would be decorating different areas of the map. Unsurprisingly, you found yourself grouped with the rest of the Boatem members (much to everyone’s delight), tasked with transforming the village into a winter wonderland.

As Scar wrapped an arm around your shoulder, brown hair bouncing up and down as he wiggled excitedly, you wondered if the mischievous gleam in your fellow server member’s eyes was a trick of the light.

… Why did you feel an impending sense of doom?

It was almost absurd how many materials the Hermits hoarded, the entire center of Boatem village dotted with chest monsters and spare materials just lying about. Not that you were exempt from the sentiment, though, as you produced yet another shulker box from your inventory filled with spruce leaves and ribbon.

The holiday beautification project was well-underway, and, as you looked over Boatem village, observing your friends as they built beautiful Christmas trees and strung lights all across their builds, you toyed with the thought that maybe, perhaps you all were a bit too invested in this.

The mountain megabase that was still under construction was dotted with pine trees, glittering with glass ornaments and golden tinsel. The gaping maw of the cave that led to Grian’s alleyway base had been modified to include an aurora borealis in the stained glass ceiling, the light from the end rods making the colors shift and dance like the real thing.

On the other side of the village, Grian was helping Scar out with stringing wreaths and ribbons all over his starter base, the avian insisting on outfitting all of his bees with little Santa hats.

It was a miracle the blonde gremlin didn’t become a walking pincushion, what with how many times he could’ve been stung.

“Hey, can someone help me over here?”

You perked up at the sound of Mumbo’s voice, dropping the tinsel you were carefully wrapping around a tree to trot over towards the sound of his voice- coming from in front of the façade of one of the shops Grian had built as part of his base. The tall dark-haired man was perilously perched on a wobbling tower of scaffolding, something that you couldn’t make out held in his hands.

Instinctively, you were moving to hold the stack steady so that the spud didn’t slip, him shooting you a thankful glance for your efforts. You watched as he strung the bundle he was holding up, directly over the door frame. After squinting your eyes for a bit, you suddenly realized what it was he was putting up- mistletoe.

“Does this mean I have to kiss you now?” you asked, only half-joking as Mumbo clambered back down from his place in the skies. The Brit shrugged, dusting off his hands with a satisfied hum.

“If you think you should, I guess. If I were you, though, I might want to save that kiss for someone else,” he said, a teasing edge to his voice that left no questions about who he was speaking of.

“Gods, does everyone know about that?” you said, face flaming at Mumbo’s cheeky grin. He shrugged again.

“Pretty much.”

You groaned, allowing your head to ‘thunk’ into the mustached man’s chest, and he patted your back comfortingly.

“... Why don’t you just confess?”

You blinked your eyes, which had previously been screwed up in righteous pain, open, staring up at Mumbo with a confused look. “Confess? Mumbo, do you know what would happen if I did that? Hels below, that would ruin everything. I’d much rather stay friends than say something and torch our relationship.”

Mumbo furrowed his eyebrows. “But that wouldn’t ruin anything?”

You pulled away, scrubbing at your face in exasperation. “You don’t know that. I’d rather not take the risk, thankyouverymuch.”

Hearing Impulse’s shout in the distance, you reached over to tug at Mumbo’s hand.

“C’mon, let’s-let’s just go.”

The rest of the group had huddled up at the center of the village, just a little bit off to the side of the Boatem hole. As you approached, Mumbo in tow, your eyes caught on the dramatic gestures Grian was making, red-green-blue wings puffing up from the force of his excitement. Smiling amusedly, you didn’t notice Scar’s eyes flicker over to land on where you were still holding the taller man’s hand, usually bright eyes dimming as his smile became strained.

“There you guys are!” Impulse exclaimed, obviously relieved to have a reprieve from Grian’s emphatic ramblings.

“There you guys are!” Impulse exclaimed, obviously relieved to have a reprieve from Grian’s emphatic ramblings.

You waved cheerfully, not-do-discreetly pushing Mumbo towards where the avian was standing. At his bewildered stare, you pinned him with a look that hopefully said ‘calm your bestie down’.

“What’s up?” you said questioningly, eyes flickering between everyone who had gathered together. Impulse grinned, propping his hands up on his hips.

“Christmas cheer, that’s what!”

The group broke out into groans at the corny joke, excluding Scar, who giggled like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. Your face softened at the sound, watching him fondly out of the corner of your eye as he doubled over with laughter. Silly.

“No, seriously- we’ve all been working hard, so I was going to ask if everyone maybe wanted to take a break?”

The response was a resounding ‘yes’, all of you tired and sore from the sheer amount of decorating you had been doing, deciding to make your way over to Impulse’s base for a quick rest. Even your hands, as calloused from building and mining as they were, were tingly and chafing. At this point you were tempted to pull off your gloves and just bury them in a nearby snowbank to relieve the stinging.

Scar must’ve noticed your discomfort, your mouth pressed into a hard line, because soon enough he was dropping back from the rest of your group to walk beside you, nudging you slightly with an arm.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, expression open and concerned as he searched your gaze worriedly.

You huffed slightly, offering him a small smile. “I’m fine, just scratched my hands up a little.”

Scar frowned, the expression reminding you hauntingly of a sad puppy, and grabbed for one, holding it gently between his own. You flustered at the contact, averting your eyes with a slight cough and praying that he didn’t notice how stiff you had suddenly become.

“Well, when we get inside we can patch you up, alright?”

You nodded, tucking the shy smile that was spreading across your face into the warm collar of your jacket. Gods damn it Scar, why do you have to be so cute?

However, as you reached the main door to Impulse’s base, you realized that you had one glaring issue: You and Scar were heading directly towards the door, where somebody had hung another bunch of mistletoe. The green sprigs innocently swayed in the breeze, almost as if it was taunting you with its very presence.

Your eyes darted towards the brunette at your side. The last thing you wanted to do was kiss him. What if you made everything weird? What if he didn’t like it? What if he realized that you had a crush on him and didn’t want to speak to you anymore?

Yeah, you were not going to risk it.

…

… So how, exactly, were you going to deal with this?

You glanced towards your feet, thinking, and, after a moment, it was like a lightbulb had gone off above your head. Surreptitiously, you wiggled your foot out of one of your boots until the garment was barely on, your ankle bent at an awkward position to account for the sudden looseness. Then, in what could be argued to be the most graceful move in all of Hermitcraft history, you tripped, sending your shoe flying.

Scar made a sound somewhere between a bicycle horn and the yelp of a kicked puppy, practically teleporting over to where you were sprawled across the ground.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you said, answering the unasked question in his eyes. “Just- go ahead without me. I need to get my boot.”

“Are you sure?” Scar queried, worrying his lip between his teeth. You tried not to stare at his mouth for too long.

“Yeah, I won’t be far behind.”

Mission success! 

You entered Impulse’s base a few minutes later (your boot safely secured back on your person) only for Scar to drag you to one of the chairs, the material surprisingly comfortable despite the industrial theming. As the brunette fussed over your injuries, you glanced up to catch Pearl’s exasperated look towards you, scrunching your face up in confusion. Before you could ask her what her problem was, however, you were interrupted by Impulse.

“Scar, I think I have some bandages and health pots somewhere in storage if you want to go get those.”

“Yes! Those would be amazin’!” the other player breathed, a relieved look on his face as he hurried through the door that Impulse had gestured to. You paused as you watched him leave, suspicion suddenly crackling through your body as though you had been struck by lightning.

Whipping your head around, you catalogued every entrance and doorway in the vicinity, horror dawning on your expression. You made eye contact with the rest of the group, face paling as you recognized the self-satisfied expressions painted across their features.

They had hung mistletoe from. Every. Single. One.

Was this what true betrayal felt like?

The next few minutes were spent avoiding getting caught under any of the doorways with Scar in a grand maneuver that would’ve made even the greatest spy proud. Whether it was by ‘conveniently’ forgetting something in the other room, or furtively pulling up next to another one of your friends to kiss them instead (completely missing the injured flash in Scar’s eyes), you were quite proud with how well you had been able to keep yourself from being put into an awkward situation with the man who was only supposed to be your best friend.

Naturally, you couldn’t stay winning forever.

“Alright gang,” Grian chirped, a strained smile on his face as he attempted to hide the frustration he was sure that everyone else was feeling. How the hell had you managed to slip out of their trap for so long? “I think it’s time to head back out.”

Gathering up your things, you filed out with the rest of the group, finally allowing yourself to relax as you exited the base. After this, you wouldn’t have to worry about having to kiss Scar. As nice as it would be, you would basically be taking advantage of him. You felt sick even thinking about it- you never wanted to abuse his trust like that. Ever.

However, as you reached the doorway, walking a few paces behind Scar, you weren’t counting on Pearl’s annoyance with you to bubble over. The two of you had been avoiding your feelings- mutual feelings- for each other for too long, in her opinion. It was time to end this.

For that second time that day, you stumbled, a well-timed push sending you tripping over your own feet and into Scar’s arms. You went shock-still in his embrace, even as the brunette’s hands encircled your waist to keep you from tumbling over. Dazed, you blinked up at him, only to find his gaze already on you, something so soft in their olivine depths that it sent heat scorching through your cheeks.

Your eyes were glued to his face, even as he glanced up, a shy, lopsided grin working its way across his cheeks.

“Look,” he said, voice so low it was almost a whisper. “We’re under the mistletoe.”

And, as your gaze flickered up to follow his, you realized that he was right.

Well, shit.

You were about to pull away, panic settling over your features as it suddenly occurred to you that this was it, this was the end of your friendship, when he tightened his grip on you, something that almost looked like desperation flitting over his features.

“Please,” he said, a beseeching tone in his voice that sent your racing thoughts screeching to a halt. “Please kiss me.”

You never wanted to abuse his trust, but who were you to deny him when he asked so nicely?

As you pushed up, gently pressing your lips against his in a sweet, slow moment, you were deaf to the elated cries of your friends.

Pearl slumped against the door.

“About time you lovebirds stopped being idiots.”

Let me preface all this with the fact that Xisuma is not good at feelings.

Ever since he had become the admin of Hermitcraft, he was constantly busy, leaping from project to project as he worked to singlehandedly manage a server as large as it was. I mean, Mumbo and Iskall’s Redstone crimes alone were enough to give him grey hairs.

It wasn’t that Xisuma was adverse to love or relationships- no, he consistently put his friends’ heath and well-being above his own. It was just that, well, since he didn’t have time to sleep more often than not, it would be difficult for him to develop a crush.

Which sucks for him, because the second he laid eyes on you, our man was doomed.

The entire server probably realizes that you’ve caught the resident admin’s fancy long before you or he does- shooting each other sly glances as the helmeted man spends a little too long staring in your direction.

It probably takes one of the hermits literally beating him over the head with the fact for him to realize it, and for the next few days he can hardly look at you without blushing straight to the tips of his ears.

I mean- cut the man some slack! He’s feelin new things, okay 🥺🥺🥺

Naturally, you are completely oblivious to this man’s affections for you, writing off his suddenly awkward behavior as a symptom of his sleep deprivation, or maybe anxiety as the server prepared for the newest update to roll around.

Whatever it was, you made a point to treat the admin the same as you always did, greeting him with a cheery smile and a wave every time you crossed paths in Boatem village, walking to and from the shops they had set up.

“Hey, ‘Suma!”

“O-oh, hi! Er- everything alright?”

“Just peachy! You?”

“Fine- great, even! Totally not dying inside or anything-”

“What?”

“Hm?”

It’s only a matter of time before you notice the notes.

Just little things, comments on your base or compliments on your attire that you find tucked into your shulker boxes, or slipped under your door.

‘I liked the deepslate you used for texturing here. Sometimes it catches me off guard how talented you are at building.’

‘I thought that prank you pulled on Iskall the other day was funny.’

‘You looked really nice today. Every day, actually- but not meant in a creepy way though. That just sounded more creepy. Okay, I’m just going to stop this right here before I embarrass myself any further.’

At first, you’re confused- there was no reason for the other hermits to secretively try and contact you. You’re more than used to them just stating their opinions to you aloud, so what reason would they have to remain anonymous?

If you’re being honest, you kind of thought it might be a prank.

That is, until one of them is finally addressed ‘from your secret admirer’.

Prime above, the burning in your face when you read that was enough to rival the sun.

Suddenly, all of the things that they had written down made a whole lot more sense when you added the romantic context to it.

Meanwhile, Xisuma is just doing his best. Like, the man has a mini-heart attack every time he writes one of those notes, and he’s basically having a mental breakdown over the last one.

Poor boy :(((

You find yourself falling for whoever is leaving you such sweet things, a giddy grin spreading across your face whenever you find the newest one. When Xisuma starts to give you little gifts- emeralds, some flowers, maybe even a stack of materials you need for your newest project- you can’t help but brag to your friends, oblivious to the way they roll their eyes at you fondly behind your back.

The both of you can be so, so dumb sometimes.

Xisuma indulges your ramblings about the latest gift or note you received, thanking the gods that he had the presence of mind to wear his helmet around you because of the deep flush overtaking his face.

Deciding to apply to Hermit Inc. was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Not only were you able to do your dream job, but by some divine intervention, all of your coworkers had turned out to be literal angels. With them around, days that would have dragged on without an end in any other situation passed in a blink of an eye.

However, sometimes you found yourself regretting it when you had to put up with their shenanigans.

“Come onnnnn,” Grian whined, flopping against the wall that separated your cubicles until his body was half-hanging over the divide. “It’ll be fun!”

You sighed, taking your eyes off of your computer screen only for a split second to shoot the blonde a deadpan look. “As much as I would like to go, I honestly don’t have time. I have to get these reports through by midnight, Gri.”

You heard, more than saw, one of your other coworkers lean against the wall behind your chair. With a sigh, you pushed away from your desk and spun around in your seat to meet them, a skeptical eyebrow raised towards the new arrival. 

“Just as Xisuma to push back the deadline or something,” Iskall said, taking a sip from the coffee mug he was holding in one hand. You had gotten it for him after he brought his bonsai tree to work, the words ‘World’s #1 Tree Dad” emblazoned across the white ceramic.

You sighed, scrubbing a hand across your face. “I shouldn’t. He’s just as busy as we should be-” you affixed both of them with a pointed look “-and I don’t want to add more to his plate.”

Grian huffed, puffing his cheeks out childishly, and before you could move to stop him, was leaning back to shout over to where you could see your boss sitting in his office. “Hey X! Your favorite employee here-” he gestured violently towards you, almost slipping off his perch on the wall “- says they can’t make it to the party because they have too much work. Which is dumb. Make them not have too much work.”

Yes, the party. The thing that prompted this whole conversation.

Every winter, the higher-ups at Hermit Inc. hosted a company-funded holiday party before Christmas break. The departments who met the annual quota for productivity were invited to come, and this year, that included the creative department- where you worked.

If you attended, it would be your very first company event as ‘the newbie’. To be completely honest, the prospect was both exciting and absolutely terrifying. After all, it would also be the first time you would potentially meet one of the big bosses- the people further up in the chain than even Xisuma, who was in charge of everyone you worked with. Like, how would you even interact with them? What were you supposed to talk about?

...You may or may not have been making up excuses to just stay home. (You can’t get into awkward situations if you avoid them entirely!)

From where you were sitting, you could see Xisuma lean back to peer through the door, glancing between you and the self-satisfied expression on Grian’s face.

“I don’t see why not. I was going to go back through those after you were finished, so it doesn’t really matter if they’re completely finished or not.” Xisuma said calmly, giving a half-hearted shrug at the betrayal on your face. “It’d be good for you to get out of work mode for a while, anyway. Being around these idiots kinda weighs on your sanity.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying not to pout like a petulant child while Grian broke out into cheers, cupping his hands around his mouth and jumping up and down like his favorite sports team won the big game. Iskall wheezed, setting his mug on the desk so its contents didn’t slosh everywhere from the force of his giggles. “YES! Our favorite administrator X- wait. Did you call us idiots?”

Xisuma eloquently closed the door to his office, blocking out Grian’s faux-enraged spluttering as the words registered. You sighed, putting your head in your hands as Iskall collapsed on one of the walls, choking on the force of his laughter.

God, this was going to be an absolute shit-show, wasn’t it?

“This is a terrible idea,” you muttered for what seemed like the millionth time as you pulled up to the venue, hands clutching the padded wheel of your car so hard your knuckles went white. When your coworkers had basically strong-arming you into going to the party, you had found yourself volunteering to carpool. Knowing your friends, it would take several miracles interspersed with acts of God for them to drive to the venue and get everyone there in one piece.

In the backseat, Cleo, a fiery redhead that you had befriended during your time in the office, groaned. “It’ll be fine. We’ve gone to this thing how many times now? Two? Three?”

“Five,” Joe, another officemate and Cleo’s best friend, offered from where he was sitting in the passenger side next to you, eyes glued to his phone as his fingers flew across the screen- probably texting the rest of the group that you had arrived.

“Five,” Cleo conceded, nodding in agreement, “And it’s been one of the best nights of our lives. Besides,” her eyes took on a mischievous gleam, and you felt a sense of impending doom settle over your soul. “I heard Etho is going to be there too.”

You couldn’t hide the way you visibly flustered at that, refusing to make eye contact with the woman while she smirked. It was no secret among the creative department that you had taken a liking to the handsome contractor the company had hired on to assist in your latest project. Your team had zeroed in on the stuttering nervousness you only seemed to gain around the man like sharks to bloodied water. You had finally admitted that you may have liked the man after an intensive interrogation on the subject, and you really wish you hadn’t- they took advantage of their knowledge to tease you about it constantly.

“Oh, shut up,” you grumbled irritably, cheeks still heated, and dug the keys out of the ignition as the other occupants of the car opened their doors with serene calm.

The company had rented out one of the fanciest hotels in the city, a high-rise that towered over everything in the immediate vicinity. As you approached, you couldn’t help but notice just how palatial the architecture was- the brick at the base of the building giving way to Greco-Roman pillars that divided the walls into parts, climbing almost halfway up the structure. Expansive windows lined the open space, light from the spotlights beneath them scattering across the glass in hues of orange and gold.

Although you had dressed up far more than usual, you still felt out of place as you met up with the rest of the department at the doors, plastering on a smile when Mumbo asked you if you were ready to head inside. Better to rip the Band-Aid off, right?

If the façade of the building was opulent, the inside was somehow even more breathtaking. The ceilings soared high above the crowd of people milling on the polished tile floor, you having to crane your head back to see them at all. The décor looked like something straight out of a Hallmark movie, or maybe one of those Christmas home decoration magazines. 

Pine trees lined the floor of the lobby, branches groaning under the weight of all the tinsel and ornaments piled on them. Boughs of holly and spruce needles decorated the walls, strung with red and gold ribbon. They had strung mistletoe under seemingly every doorway, and you grimaced as you spotted a young couple making out under one. (As cute as the concept was, it would be better if they didn’t do that in full view of literally everyone at work)

The lobby had been converted into a strange hybrid of a lounge and a dance floor, and you blanched at the sheer amount of alcohol that they had stocked behind the bar. How much were they expecting everyone to drink?

As soon as you stepped foot on the main floor, your colleagues were making a bee-line for where everyone was getting served their liquid courage. Cleo stuck by you as you stood awkwardly to the side of the action, too shy to join those who were chatting, but also too sane to start drinking this early.

Cleo stayed with you for quite an impressive amount of time before the party started to pick up(a whole thirty minutes!), abandoning you as more and more people were drawn to the bar. You weren’t surprised- she had always been more of an extrovert than you. However, what did surprise you was how she immediately downed five shots of tequila like it was nothing. 

Huh, so that’s why they needed so much liquor.

Leaning against a wall, you geared yourself up for a long night of looking after the children- children being your coworkers who were drinking like it was the civil war and a doctor was coming to saw their limbs off. Wait- was Doc chugging straight Vodka from that bottle?

Before you had any more time to be concerned about that very distressing observation, your thoughts were interrupted by someone slumping next to you, leaning back against the cool plaster with a groan.

“Looks like you’re on babysitting duty, huh?”

You jolted at the voice, flushing first in embarrassment, then something else as you recognized just who had spoken. It was hard to discern Etho’s expression with the shadows cast on his face, one red eye staring down at you with something like amusement as you scrambled for words.

“Unfortunately,” you said after an awkward pause, your mind struggling to wrap around the fact that Etho was talking to you, praying that your flustered state wasn’t obvious. “Um, I didn’t expect you to be here.”

He shrugged. “One of the management asked me to come, and I thought ‘why not?’, and boom! I’m here now.”

You made a sweeping gesture with your hand towards the crowd of partying office workers, the majority of them hammered beyond belief, as if to say ‘this is what you get for that’. “I hope you’ve been enjoying tonight’s entertainment.”

He laughed, the sound not unkind, and scooted along the wall until he could settle next to you, shoulder almost brushing your own. With the new position he had taken, the soft light from the party was finally allowed to brush across his features, and your breath hitched as you finally got a chance to look at him.

Etho was one of the most attractive men you had ever met, hands down. You had known this before, of course, having met with him on multiple occasions- but this felt different. Something about the ambiance of the party, the background sounds of glass clinking and jazz music coming through the PA system, painted him as though he had stepped straight out of a dream.

His white hair was messy, mussed as if he had run his hands through it in frustration, and hung over his eyes when he tilted his face to peer down at you. His eyes, one ruby red, and the other slate grey glittered in the low glow of the room, threatening to swallow you whole if you stared into them for too long. He was still wearing his usual black face mask and work clothes, but he had rolled up the sleeves of his grey dress shirt and popped open the collar for a more casual look.

You tore your eyes away from his bare arms, trying desperately not to seem like you were ogling the way his wiry muscles bulged as he crossed them over his chest. Sighing, you swirled the glass of champagne that Stress had shoved in your hands earlier, idly watching as the bubbles spun in the mini-whirlpool you had created.

“I’d be surprised if they haven’t blacked out completely yet,” Etho said, jerking his chin towards where Cleo and Doc were singing German drinking songs. They were horribly off-key, but their enthusiasm made up for their lack of vocal coordination. 

“Yeah,” you chuckled softly, grinning at your boss as you spotted him clinging to Impulse’s shoulder from across the room. “You wouldn’t expect it from him, but Xisuma can’t even handle a White Claw before he starts getting all sappy on us. He’s probably one of, if not the most, lightweight part of the team.”

Etho raised an eyebrow, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Oh? So what you’re telling me is that Xisuma, the administrator that is famously the only person able to wrangle you creatives, holds his liquor worse than Grian?” 

You snorted before you could stop yourself, bringing a hand up to your mouth and widening your eyes dramatically to shoot a faux-shocked look towards the masked man. “You’re telling me that you doubt that gremlin’s abilities? He carried Mumbo around like a princess one day because Iskall made a bet with him.”

Etho visibly perked up at that, leaning forwards with a curious gleam in his eyes. “Do tell.”

You smirked. If they were going to drag you to this, then you were not going to let a chance to get some payback slip by.

As you launched into the many, many stories you had collected over time about your coworker’s most embarrassing moments, you failed to notice the way that the white-haired man’s features softened as he listened to your rambling, the way his body leaned towards yours like a flower towards sunlight. Little did you know that he saw the same dreamlike beauty in your manner that you saw in his, unable to be anything but hypnotized by your smile and laugh as you recounted a particularly unfortunate encounter between Ren and a particularly stubborn Tupperware container.

How had you somehow become even more stunning than you already were?

The moment was only broken when, during a momentary break in your spiel, you glanced over to see Grian climbing one of the many Christmas trees that were set up around the floor. You gasped and, without any further explanation, took off running through the crowd to stop him. As much as the hotel staff could tolerate, you didn’t think having an intoxicated gremlin ruin their careful decoration was one of the things that would fly.

Etho, utterly bewildered, only took a second to follow your line of sight before he too was off like a shot. Ducking and weaving through the crowd, you skidded to a halt in front of the tree where the blonde had already climbed about halfway up. A group consisting of Cleo, Doc, and Iskall cheered him on from around the base, faces flushed with alcohol more than enough evidence to figure out what might have led to this.

“Grian!” you called frantically, cupping your hands around your mouth. The man paused in his ascent to stare down at you, a manic grin spread across his cheeks.

“Heyyyy! We were wondering where you were!” he called, haphazardly waving down to you. He must’ve been at least a foot up in the air, the tree swaying with every little movement he made. It was a miracle he hadn’t fallen off yet, joining the same fate as the many ornaments that he had knocked onto the ground. (Plastic, thankfully. You weren’t sure how you would have dealt with them if they were something more breakable like glass)

The blonde’s eyes shifted to where Etho was standing behind you, demeanor as anxious as it seemed to get, and suddenly his cheery smile turned into something more teasing. You blanched, knowing that that expression couldn’t mean anything good.

“Oooh,” Grian sing-songed, eyebrows rising dramatically as the group below burst into giggles. “Is that Etho? The guy?”

You cursed under your breath, pointedly ignoring the confused look that Etho shot you out of the corner of your eye. “C’mon Gri, you don’t want to be up there right now.”

Your words flew over Grian’s head completely, your friend fixating on seeing you and your workplace crush standing together. 

“Do you know they have a crush on you?” he asked bluntly, achieving the impressive endeavor of spitting on all rules of social etiquette in one sentence. You made a sound like a dying animal, feeling your face burn red-hot as you buried it in your hands. The night was going fine- great, even! Better than you thought it would! But no, the universe couldn’t let you be happy for one single second.

You were going to flay Grian alive when all this was said and done.

Etho didn’t respond, startled into silence at the sudden revelation, and Grian decided that this was the opportune time for him to lose his grip and finally fall off. Everything seemed to slow down- the sound of the other attendee’s chatter, your colleague’s body tumbling through the air, your sharp intake of breath as you registered what had just happened. Frozen, you could only watch as Grian tumbled down, down, down-

Only to be caught in Etho’s awaiting arms.

You sighed, pure relief coursing through your veins as the masked man gently lowered Grian down to the floor, steadying him with a hand as his balance wobbled.

“I don’t know how I’m still friends with you,” you grumbled as he moved to lean against you, cheek smushed against your shoulder.

“We’re friends?” Grian said, voice filled with awe. You sighed, equal parts exasperated and fond, and gave the blonde a gentle push towards where the rest of the group was congregating again.

“Of course, idiot. Now go bother Mumbo or something.”

You watched with an amused expression as he stumbled over to flop on Mumbo, giggling drunkenly at the tall man’s protests. Feeling Etho sidle up on your left, you turned to find his eyes already gazing down at you.

“Nice catch,” you teased, propping your hands upon your hips with a jaunty grin.

“Thanks,” Etho said wryly. He paused for a moment, before continuing in a tone much less amused than before. “Although, I’m still a little confused about that thing Grian said- you have a crush on me?”

Oh shit, that.

“Uhm-” you laughed awkwardly, feeling all your anxiety come rushing back full-force. As much as you wanted to sink into the floor, there was no way you could avoid this, and why was he looking at you like that-

You inhaled sharply. “Yeah, I do, actually. You don’t- you don’t have to feel the same way though, I just- uh, yeah. Don’t wanna lie, y’know?”

You bit your lip nervously as Etho stared down at you, the statement obviously processing. Every second of silence that passed had your nerves skyrocketing, and you had to resist the mounting urge to just make a run for the exit. Finally, the white-haired man coughed, turning his face to the side to avoid looking at you. From where you were standing, though, you could see the tips of his ears flushed bright red.

Huh.

“Anyways, I’m just gonna go-” you started, but were cut short when Etho’s hand flashed out to grab your arm.

“Wait! If- if what you’re saying is true, then would you want to go out sometime? Like for coffee?”

...What?

You felt a brilliant grin tug at the corners of your mouth as you stared wide-eyed up at him, biting down on your tongue to prevent yourself from squealing like a schoolgirl. “That would be nice, actually.”

“Cool,” he breathed, seeming almost dazed as his grip loosened and allowed you to slip away.

“Cool,” you parroted, taking a step back. “I should probably go and make sure that Grian doesn’t try to cause any more chaos. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Etho nodded, the warm sensation of giddiness rising in his chest. 

I guess this turned out better than I would’ve ever thought.