#spant

Grant glanced awkwardly around the room, taking in the situation. Somehow, there were 6 beds - in a room meant for two people. She guessed that she and Sparrow had been put in a spare cabin, probably because they were the only trans kids at the camp and the councillors didn't want to deal with complaints one way or another. But now, not only was she alone with Sparrow for two weeks, she had no idea where to sleep.

Were they supposed to sleep in the beds next to one another? They were friends, after all, and they would do that in a full cabin. Although, Grant had never slept alone with Sparrow before, and they normally slept with Lark - usually in the same bed, co-dependent twins that they were. But they'd decided to come with her to her dreaded church camp, and Lark had stayed home. Maybe Sparrow wouldn't want to sleep next to her. What if she'd inherited her dad's loud snoring?

But, if they weren't sleeping next to each other - their beds, next to each other, she reminded herself sternly - then how far away was she meant to sleep? Was one bed apart too little? How much was too much? She didn't want to look like she was trying to avoid them, although maybe Sparrow would prefer that. But, then again, they'd volunteered to come without Grant even asking.

Sparrow broke through her thoughts like a torpedo, running into the room and jumping onto the nearest bed.

"Grant!" they cried, giggling happily, "we should put all the beds together! Then we can have a giant bed to sleep on, and enough room for all my plushies."

"You... brought plushies?"

They nodded. "All of them."

"All of them?" She had seen their plushie collection. It was truly terrifying, and impressive, and Grant had to admit, she was kind of envious.

"You brought some plushies too, right?" They sat up and stared at her, grinning ear to ear. She nodded, and pulled out her favourite Minecraft bee plushie, holding it to her chest. She knew Sparrow never would, but part of her couldn't shake the memories of cabinmates mocking her for being "childish" and "girlie".

They hopped off the bed, and started pushing it to the next one, with all the power of someone who thinks they're much stronger than they really are. Grant couldn't help but giggle as they strained.

"Come on," she said, picking Sparrow up and putting them on the bed, "let me push. You can direct me."

"Go, my loyal knight! We shall make the ultimate bed!"

Her ears burned red at the title, her heart thudding for reasons she couldn't describe. That was something to put in a box and examine later.

Maybe when Sparrow was clinging to her in their sleep. When they would share the same bed.

“You’re cute when you’re all sweaty and disgusting,” 

Grant nearly jumps out of his skin but comes back to himself when he realizes the voice is just Sparrow. She’s perched on top of the shower stall with wet hair and a cheshire grin. Grant’s half out of his shirt, sweaty and wet and feeling gross from his required DADDIES workout. Can’t go on missions if you’re out of shape. It’s nice that the workouts keep him in shape for soccer season. He supposes. 

“How did you get up there?” Grant asks Sparrow. “Turned into a geko, climbed up, got stuck,” she says. “You-” Grant looks at the stall wall. It’s tall, but he’s seen the twins jump from higher places. He’s sure of it. “Sure about that?” “Very sure.” Sparrow reaches her arms down “Rescue meeeee” 

Now Grant knows Sparrow is lying. He finishes taking off his shirt and tosses it at Sparrow’s head. The small movement it takes to dodge the projectile makes Sparrow wobble. Wobble and almost fall.

“Shit.” Grant reaches up for Sparrow like that would help, but Sparrow catches herself, laughing with reckless abandon while she does it.

“Jesus,” Grant says hoping his heart will stop beating so hard it hurts. That scared him. 

“Trying to murder your boyfriend?” Sparrow asks, clinging to her spot and grinning ear to ear.

“You’re unkillable,” Grant says, though he doesn’t believe it. Can’t believe it. Can't get worked up about that right now either. Better just to keep moving on. “Now get down.” He tries to keep the concern from his voice.

Sparrow fumbles around until she’s sitting more comfortably. “Nah,” she says. “I think I’ll enjoy the show.”

Grant glares.

“Not a show,” he says. 

“Could be if you tried a little harder,” Sparrow counters. 

Grant puckers his lips. He loves Sparrow and also she drives him crazy.

He thinks quickly. 

“Nicky was working out too. Eventually he’s going to come in and want a shower.” “Cross that bridge when we get to it,” Sparrow says. Then she does another very reckless Oak-Garcia move and takes both her hands from their bracing points on the wall encircles her mouth with them and calls, “take it offffff” 

Grant fights the laugh that is trying to wiggle up from his lungs. He can’t laugh at that, it’ll only encourage her. 

“Get down and I will,” Grant says. He again waves for Sparrow to get down, but she just squints and looks suspicious. “I can’t kiss you when you’re this far away from me.” Grant makes up. Mostly he just wants Sparrow on solid ground. Safe and sound; something he rarely ever gets from the excitable walking catastrophe he calls his boyfriend. 

Sparrow hums like she’s thinking it over, then with the full lack of self preservation Grant has come to expect from her she wiggles and drops. She lands on her feet right in front of him, grinning like she owns him. She kidna does. 

“Thank you,” Grant says.

“Kisses.” Sparrow demands, ignoring Grant’s words entirely.

Grant looks away in an attempt to keep himself from smiling, but it’s a lost cause, so to cover his amusement he chooses warfare. He leans in and chastly pecks Sparrow’s cheek.

“Cheap” Sparrow complains. Grant feels good about tormenting her just a little. She started it after all. “I demand more kisses or I’ll climb right back up where I came from.”

Grant considers holding out just to see if she’ll do it, but he’s honestly not that stubborn and he knows Sparrow would go back up in an instant. 

Grant gives in. He leans forward to press his lips against Sparrow’s. She showered and her lips are still warm from the heat. They feels good against his, soft and thick. She fits perfectly. 

“Better,” Sparrow says when they finally part. “But you smell terrible and should probably shower.” Grant rolls his eyes. 

“That’s what I was trying to do,” He grumbles.