#im still traumatised from ao3 not letting me properly block a minor. its also why i stopped posting there

[xxpsychopartypuppyxx]

Moss

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A short Garrance oneshot taking place in the Minecraft Diaries universe. Keeping in mind, this fic is likely moderately OOC, as I haven't watched the entirety of MCD since I was, like, 11. [I'm 20 now, ftr o_O]

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WARNING: This fic contains descriptions of blood, tending to open wounds, and brief mentions of kind of freaky gay things to do with them!!! Viewer discretion is advised. A character within the story is also mildly affected by blood loss throughout the entirety of the fic, so if that's something you're uncomfortable with, please do not read the fic. I'd describe it to be akin to sleepiness, in this case. The kind that makes you a little more vulnerable, and ballsy. It is not noncon, nor dubcon [I don't write those <3], but I thought I'd include it in the warnings, just in case.

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This fic is 18+. If you are not 18 or over, leave.

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Garroth put his hand on Laurance's shoulder, gently applying pressure to move him backwards, inspecting the wounds on his arms through his chainmail with a trained eye.

He frowned, his eyes focused on the damage as Laurance's fixed on him.

"This is...awful, Laurance. How in the name of Irene did you manage to get these wounds? From those bandits?" Garroth grumbled out, stern, yet soft. It was obvious to Laurance that his co-worker cared for him deeply, but as per usual, Garroth was guarded with his words and actions.

Laurance was having none of it this time, though.

"I got 'em from falling for you so hard," The redhead breathed in a seductive tone, a small chuckle and a cough following the silky words. Karma, he supposed. There was no blood torn from his lungs this time, but that splutter concerned Garroth nonetheless.

"Shut up, Laurance," Garroth briefly dropped the 'professional guard' act, his expression further beginning to reveal his concern, "Just...be quiet, let me handle this."

Garroth carefully reached for Laurance's armour, his experienced hands making quick work of his tabard, plating, chainmail and all. He had placed each piece neatly down on the grass, before taking a closer look at Laurance's chest.

"...Having f...fffuck, ow, uh...fun there?" Laurance hissed in pain as Garroth interrupted his flirtatious remark with a swipe of his thumb, before the taller pulled away to search for an ideal patch of moss to dress Laurance's wounds.

"No, I'm not having fun seeing you in pain, Laurance. As much as I think you have it coming sometimes," Cue Laurance's weak 'Hey!' from nearby - "You really need to be more careful with how you hold yourself in these situations. There's only a certain amount of moss in this forest."

Laurance looked at Garroth, forlornly. "I'm...sorry Garroth, I just...fuck, I just wanted to protect-"

"Our people. Their belongings. I know. But you shouldn't have fought those bandits alone." Garroth picked the moss he needed, then took it back to Laurance. He cut off the dirtied roots with his sword.

He stuffed the deeper wounds with the fluffy material, making sure they were packed adequately. His companion's blood was scarlet red on his fingers, glistening in the pale moonlight from above.

Laurance looked a little taken aback at the display: Garroth in such close proximity, a tinge of red on his fingertips as he stuffed Laurance full of fluffy white moss. It might've been the slight blood loss getting to his head, but...

...Laurance couldn't help but stare. In that moment, he briefly considered asking Garroth to plunge a finger into the wound he'd packed. To feel around inside of Laurance, to become a part of him.

But...that was...by Irene, that was far too much. Far too dangerous. Far too...weird.

"S..Sorry, Garroth..." Laurance whimpered involuntarily as the blond towering over him swiped some moss across his surface wounds, wiping any blood and debris away.

Garroth didn't mention the rather...unmasculine, sound. He only kept tending to Laurance. "What for? For getting yourself stabbed, through your chainmail, no less?"

"N...No, for...for wasting so much of your time, for..not being a good guard, a good friend, I-" The blood loss was definitely getting to Laurance a little. Usually, he was able to keep these kinds of thoughts at bay. This time, though...

"Be quiet." Garroth discarded the used moss in a pile of loose dirt, then scuffed his boot over the top of it, masking the scent of blood with dried, dusty mud.

"You're plenty competent, Laurance. As a guard...and as a friend, I couldn't ask for more. You know that, so damn it, don't say things like that." Garroth's voice was rough with emotion.

Before Laurance could reply, Garroth sucked in a deep breath, visibly bracing himself. He then cautiously pulled Laurance into a tender embrace.

Laurance blinked. Garroth...hadn't ever been so close before. He could smell his hair...the iron of his pauldrons...a familiar tinge of copper from his hands...and a distinct, earthy smell. The moss, of course.

It was...too much. Far too much, all at once.

Laurance clung to Garroth, feeling his hands begin to tremble as he held on to the taller man for dear life, near literal. He took in shaky, laboured breaths as he tried to keep his composure.

"...Relax, Laurance." Garroth was clearly the one getting clammy, almost at a loss for words in this situation, but Laurance didn't care. For as Garroth's words were whispered near his ear, his Scots accent mingling with them in a softer manner than his usual, Laurance relaxed; let out all of his pent up insecurities into Garroth's warmth.

"I get worried I-I'll never be able to protect the ones I love, I get worried I'll lose them every day. I look at all the other guards I've known in my travels and feel so insignificant, like I'm...not meant to have this position. Like I don't have the right to call myself a guard. I feel...someone else would be better able to keep these people safe, not...not me. I.." Laurance trailed off, face buried in Garroth's shoulder.

When he next looked up at Garroth, he saw a deep ocean of blue looking back at him; spilled down rosy cheeks, the dam broken by words, and words alone. Garroth quickly pulled away, wiping his eyes as discretely as possible. Laurance had already seen the ocean, though; it was vast, and nigh impossible to contain.

"What's...what's wrong Garroth?" Laurance asked, hushed and cautious with his words. He didn't want to hurt Garroth, he was clearly in a vulnerable state of mind right now.

"You...my Irene, I just...I hear those words - from my closest friend, no less...and they sound almost exactly like the ones I hear in my own mind, every single time something goes awry." Garroth breathed out, eyes not meeting Laurance's gaze. He looked as though he were hesitating about something, but Laurance wasn't sure what.

Laurance didn't know what to say. He instead pulled Garroth back into that same warm hug, but this time, he held him closer. He squeezed him as tight as he could without disturbing his own wounds.

Garroth sat there for a moment, before wrapping his arms around Laurance once again. He spoke to him in a soft tone; "...You shouldn't feel inadequate, you're a noble, strong, caring person...and all of those qualities are what make a good protector. You're...amazing, Laurance...truly, I mean it."

Laurance couldn't take it anymore. The thrumming in his head was eating his rationality alive.

Laurance pulled Garroth closer, fist balled around the front of his tabard, other hand reaching up to grab his chin. Garroth didn't pull away, but looked shocked by the sudden advancement. He quickly melted into the touch, leaning in a little closer himself.

Laurance chuckled, the fog in his head clearing a little. "Garroth, you...I never expected you to lean towards me like that, you little devil," He found his face flushing, but he pulled Garroth closer nonetheless.

Garroth seemed to gain a slight amount of hesitance at the words, wondering if he'd done something wrong, before it all melted away again the second Laurance pulled him yet closer. Their lips were almost brushing, and Garroth could feel his breath picking up as his head began to fill with...thoughts. Thoughts he wished he could put reigns on.

Laurance smirked at the feeling of Garroth's warm breaths on his lips, before opting to bite the other guard's lower lip.

Garroth gasped shallowly, a quiet whine ripped from his throat as Laurance began to nip at him. His teeth were pretty; pearly white with the tiniest notion of fangs. They were slick with spit. His own or Laurance's, though, he had no clue; his own lip was wet with the same stuff. But either way, that didn't matter. Right now, he wanted nothing more than for Laurance to quit toying with him and just-

Garroth went a deep shade of red, suddenly realising what exactly was going on. He lightly pushed against Laurance in his tizzy, heart racing.

Laurance stopped what he was doing to Garroth nigh immediately, looking up at him with a questioning, almost pleading, look.

"L...Laurance, you're...the- the blood loss m-must be affecting your judgement, I-I...I can't take advantage of you like this..." Garroth breathed out what was practically an excuse, ignoring the needy ache in his mind, stomach, and chest. He knew Laurance wasn't that far gone, if at all, he just...

...he needed a moment to collect himself.

"Sh-Shit, sorry, Garroth..." Laurance pulled away, flustered now that he'd been told off.

"I-It's okay, I'm not...I'm n-not mad at you. these kinds of situations sometimes m-make your mind and body a-act strangely...and without considering the con- consequences. But, that being said, you should...you should rest up. Here," Garroth took his tabard off, and made a makeshift bed using excess moss, grass, and the article of clothing.

He gestured for Laurance to get into bed.

"I...y-yeah. Thanks." Laurance got into bed, with some help from Garroth when he struggled; once again, ever the astute one.

Laurance had to pretend he wasn't looking at Garroth's muscles and scars as he tried to settle down. He briefly wondered if Garroth was even into guys, before perishing the thought. He needed to sleep.

"...Goodnight, Garroth."

"Night, Laurance."

Garroth couldn't keep his eyes off Laurance's lips in the night, and nothing could take his mind off of the little love bites he'd given him; not sharpening his sword, not foraging their dinner for tomorrow, not even thinking about Aphmau and their home. He was constantly licking his bottom lip, and every time he did, he felt his face grow hotter.

Garroth realised, as his form was doused in moonlight from above, that there would be absolutely no coming back from what had happened between the two of them, that night.

He was fucked.