The Rise Of CuteGuy

Chaos

Scar pov

Me and Grian were still curled up together on one of my couches, his warmth pressed comfortably against my side. The soft glow of the TV flickered across the room, playing some random show we weren’t really paying attention to. Across from us, Xavier had taken refuge on the loveseat, his antennas twitching lazily as he vibed with us. He seemed content, occasionally tilting his head at the screen, though I wasn’t sure if he actually understood what was going on.

At some point, I felt Grian’s fingers start to fidget against my chest. At first, I ignored it, thinking he was just shifting around, but then I realized he wasn’t just moving—he was playing with my uniform.

I glanced down at him, confused. He had a completely innocent expression, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the buttons and seams of my suit.

“…What are you doing?” I finally asked, my voice low with curiosity.

Grian blinked up at me, his wings twitching slightly before he shrugged. "Dunno. Just something to do." His fingers moved again, smoothing over the fabric as if testing its texture.

I raised an eyebrow. "You’re playing with my uniform."

"Yeah," he said simply, still fiddling with the buttons. "It’s nice. Sturdy. Weirdly soft, though."

Xavier, who had been completely silent up until now, let out an amused hum from the loveseat. He didn’t say anything—probably because he knew I wouldn’t understand him—but his antennas twitched in a way that made me think he found this entire thing funny.

Grian, still completely unfazed, flicked open one of my buttons and ran his finger along the stitching beneath.

"...You're not gonna undress me, are you?" I teased, trying to make sense of what he was doing.

Grian finally stopped, looking up at me with a flat stare. "Scar, we’re literally cuddling. Stop being weird."

Xavier made a noise—something between a scoff and a laugh. I still had no idea what he was saying, but I could tell he was enjoying this.

I just sighed and let Grian continue playing with my uniform shirt, figuring it wasn’t worth making a fuss over. It was oddly relaxing, really—his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns against the fabric while we watched whatever random show was playing on TV.

Xavier, still sprawled across the loveseat, had his eyes half-lidded, twitching his antennas every now and then. He looked comfortable. Peaceful, even. Not that I was fooled—I knew better than to think he wasn’t ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.

And then, of course, that peace was shattered.

The office doors slammed open with a bang, and in stormed Xisuma, Hels, and Wels, all three of them looking exasperated, panting like they had sprinted the whole way here. They were furious.

Xavier, the moment he saw them, moved. His antennas flicked sharply, his entire body tensing as he prepared to bolt—probably back into the void where they couldn’t reach him. But before he could so much as twitch toward an escape, Grian flicked his fingers, and a faint purple glow surrounded Xavier, locking him in place.

The alien let out a series of sharp, frantic words in his native tongue, glaring at Grian with wide, betrayed eyes.

Grian just sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know, but running's only gonna make it worse."

Xavier struggled against the magic for a second longer before slumping with an irritated huff, antennas twitching wildly. He muttered something under his breath, and while I didn’t understand it, I could tell it definitely wasn’t polite.