Grumbo: One Shot

Room Service - 2

Mumbo's POV

"So what brings you out here to America?" I didn't look at him when I asked this, actually focused on the task at hand this time.

Grian was reluctant to reply and I gave him a reassuring flash of a smile before going back to opening the bottle.

"Okay, let's try this instead." I had gotten the bottle open at this point and Grian had noticed me looking around for a glass.

He put a gentle hand on my shoulder before I could get up in search of one myself. I obliged his not so subtle behavior as he scurried across the room to a glass cabinet my eyes didn't quite meet yet.

The blonds movements were slow and I could tell that he was thinking of a way to answer my previous question. This reminded me that I was going to ask a different question and snapped me out of staring at the ever-fascinating subject.

"Where did someone like you get this fancy bottle of wine and where can I get some." The most important part was tacked on at the end.

The later of my question was answered instead when Grian turned around with two appropriate wine glasses face matching the light red he was about to receive.

Perhaps he did have some element of familiarity than I though. How else would he have chosen the perfect glasses at random, it should probably make the act more impressive.

"Someone like me huh," He clearly wasn't offended but he had another light to his voice I've never heard before.

More playful than the last, he stood in front of me holding one of the glasses out. Unless he wanted the bottle of pink to end up on the floor he would have been annoyed as I got up to switch places with him.

Now he sat on the bed, my 6' 5 form towering the smaller man. I filled the first cup one-fourth of the way and waited for the next to be presented to me.

"Someone like me manages to come across these privileges due to my work." He cutely takes a sip of the pink drink to signal that's all he was willing to answer.

When I give him a rather unimpressed look the giggle that escapes the man quickly morphs my expression into one of pure amusement, but still questioning all the same.

"Take your best guess." this time Grian is the one challenging my plan, it just might work better than I thought.

I set the bottle down at the breakfast table before resuming my previous position and the bed next to Grian both our glasses cupped in hand.

"I don't know, an international spy perhaps." I overshot, a slight tell by Grian's cringing posture.

"I wouldn't be much of a good spy." Grian sips his drink dismissively.

"Especially if your inviting mates round to open pretty pink drinks for you." Raising my glass is a faltering motion, instead of clinking glasses in cheers with the other man I stop midway.

My attention is caught by another feverish tint of red flush across his face as he tries to hide if from my view, I find it terribly distracting in fact.

"The opposite of a spay rather, I can't think of a job anymore suiting than a princess." I'm met with another playful eye-roll at my cheesy flirting.

GRIAN'S P.O.V

It could have been the few sips that I had but I was already feeling quite giddy as Mumbo starred at me while taking another sip of his own drink.

"Anyhow delivery boy, answer me this. What brings you to Central America then?" Of course he didn't have to answer.

I wasn't really expecting him to considering my reluctance to be as candid as I initially intended to be.

"The culture I guess." It was simple and vague but it was reason enough.

The Uk wasn't a whole lot different than America considering in both places English was the first language. The food wasn't even all that different either.

"Back home can get a little tiring." There was a slight edge to the usually happy man, a bit bitter.

The usually happy man was only as much as I perceived. The time we've been sitting here couldn't have been anything short of half an hour.

What I saw was kind and sweet, with other things to worry about rather than his weird post mates customer that seemed oddly obsessed with him and helpless enough to not be able to open a bottle of rosé on his own.

It was at that moment, Mumbo sharing his vulnerabilities with me that my own insecurities seemed to surface.

Maybe it's how he spoke about back home like he missed it dearly but sounded as if he could throw it all away in one equally stoic breath.

I guess that on some level I'm equating it to myself. My logic brain wasn't quite under enough influence to blur all the lines.

I am just as disposable, if not more as a single exhale into nothing.

"What draws you back to the UK then?" It was an almost desperate sounding rebuttal.

"I'm not really sure, not much anymore other than the fact that it's home." The quality of Mumbo's reply made it sound like he was speaking more within himself than answering the question for the sake of me asking.

Like he would have answered it all the same even if I hadn't asked so pleadingly.

"I don't know much about you or your past but for some reason, I feel like you're right."

Things may seem weird and foggy and all at a distance right now, but sometimes they get clearer when you are in the thick of it.

"Sometimes when your in the midsts of if you get this wired unexplainable feeling that it's meant to be or that it will work out." Mumbo nods at my nonsense seeming to find some semblance of truth in it all.

Mumbo's POV

"Can I just say that I like you a lot." I knew by now that the feelings were mutual and enjoyed being the one to spell it out.

I'm not sure when the next time I'll catch Grian in America, especially as his trip is ending soon. The thought did cross my mind that I wouldn't mind bumping into the Brit while back home.

Another reason for returning other than the fact that it is home definitely helps, I was bound to find a way back to the UK eventually.

Unlike Grians case the few sips of pink only seemed to serve as a distraction from the man himself for me. I managed to be sober and that meant that I should probably leave while I still could.

I convinced the blonde to hand over his phone and imputed my contact info under the name "delivery boy #1," A playoff of Grians previous jab at me.

This garnered a few more minutes of banter, Grian insisting I choose a different contact name.

"What, I don't have the other delivery boys numbered," he joked and challenged.

It was my turn to playfully roll my eyes as I typed in a new name. "Mumbo"

"It'll do I guess." He said sending me a cheeky grin before I was back out of the hotel room and making my way to my car.

When I was sat in my car I received a message. It was probably Grian checking to see if I gave him the correct number.

Grian - I'll be in London for the next few weeks.

Mumbo - That's my window huh?

Grian - Not necessarily..?

Mumbo - Then I'll see you around?

Grian - If you're lucky x

With that I drove away, subconsciously counting down the days. Grian and I got on well and I had that unexplainable feeling that things were going to change back in the UK, for the both of us.

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