Hermitcraft Oneshots

Flower War? - Grumbo (fluff)

765 words. Short and sweet, for the heart.

Mumbo patted down his suit and straightened his tie one last time before stepping out into the warm, late spring air of the grassy biome that was his shared homeland. He had opted for his usual, smarter clothes choice over his recent preference for silly face paint and superhero outfits simply because he wanted to look presentable for what he was about to do.

Since the walk between bases lasted a shorter amount of time than he'd have liked, the moustached man found himself stood in front of the door, hesitating as he gripped the stem of a flower with his permanently redstone-covered fingertips. His heart was beating audibly in his chest and he took a deep breath like it was going to be his last before knocking on the spruce wood.

"Come in!" A familiar voice yelled, and Mumbo did as he was told. "Mumbo Jumbolio, what brings you here?" Grian grinned as he flew down from a shelf or something higher up - he had a tendency to be high up and was flying or taking off or landing, and at this point everyone was too scared to question it. He was like a moth heading towards a flame and away from the darkness, the flame being elytra or any form of flight and the darkness being... well, gravity.

"I, uh..." every single word simply ceased to exist. Mumbo searched his head, but it was an abandoned library formerly containing dictionaries, every shelf left empty. One shelf caught his eye, however. There was a stray piece of paper that had fallen out of one of the said dictionaries. It had three words on it. "Well, I just..." they didn't seem to be in alphabetical order but they did okay. At least his years spent at the University of Movement could come in handy.

Mumbo put his flower-wielding hand forward, hoping it would explain itself. He'd barely passed the gesticulation exam though, and hadn't brushed past the subject in years...

"I thought I'd have put you off plant-related wars by now. I didn't even plant a flower in your base, only a- I mean, nothing." Grian cut himself off.

"No, I don't mean war, I mean..." For a bad word's sake why did this having to be so hard? Grian looked at him inquisitively. "It's a present." There we go, Mumbo thought, that was the way to say it.

"A present?" He couldn't tell whether Grian was confused or disgusted or pleased or neutral.

"Yeah," Grian's unreadable expression didn't change, and oh no he'd messed up hadn't he-- "I'm sorry, it'd bad, this is all bad, I'll leave-" Of course he shouldn't have done this, it was a terrible idea. Why would he even think for one second that it would go well? He turned to leave, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Wait, don't go, I- it's a brilliant present." Grian smiled and Mumbo's heart seemed to double in size and take up too much space in his chest.

"Really?" He asked, glancing down at the red rose.

Grian nodded.

Mumbo offered the flower once again and Grian took his hand off his shoulder to take it. He smiled. Mumbo looked at the ground sheepishly.

"I should get going, glad you like it though." When it came to finding words that allowed him to leave, his vocabulary was infinite.

"Okay," Grian said, and just before Mumbo turned around the blond hermit leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. The redstoner stopped functioning. He felt like he was exploding but in a good way, if that was possible, like all his emotions were all running around at once. Grian grinned at him.

"Right, uh," Mumbo stuttered conclusively. "I... yeah, bye." It may have been his imagination but he could've sworn Grian looked like he was holding back a laugh, but not a mean one. He turned and left because he didn't know whether he'd be able to not blurt out his feelings for much longer.

Once the stupid genius was out the door, Grian chuckled to himself. Mumbo never ceased to surprise him how much of a spoon he could be. It was kind of impressive by this point. He glanced down at the stereotypical love symbol that the potato boy probably thought was subtle, and his heart felt warm.

He crafted a small pot and put the flower in it before putting it down on a shelf made with a spruce trapdoor. Then he simply smiled, deciding that next time he'd be brave enough to actually kiss him.