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Airplane Ride (Rivalry)

SUP FUCKERS! LONG TIME NO SEE! I have RISEN from the dead to deliver this one-shot!

A/N: I want you guys to know, you are all hella amazing <3 Oh hey, make sure to look out for angst special from Goosy ;) I look forward to your amazing responses there too! (Goose also made a good idea in this one-shot ;)) so props to them for creating second-hand embarrassment - if Goose comments here, CHECK HER OUT! Enjoy everyone!)

---

Here he was, staring at his drenched red sweater.

At this point, the man with raven hair couldn't tell if the sweater was more vibrant in red or his face. Well, considering the sweater is drenched in freezing iced coffee, the sweater lost some of its happy color in the mixture of light brown.

"I-I am so incredibly sorry!" Mumbo says urgently, reaching out before reeling his hand close to his chest. His eyes quickly darted across the airport and the restaurants lying about. "I can look for a towel or-"

"Don't," the shorter male glares past his copper bangs to sneer at Mumbo, his blue eyes raging. "I don't need your pity or help. I'm going to miss my flight anyways."

The shorter individual grabs his luggage, the same one that was accidentally knocked over in the collision.

With a fuming head of hair and drenched clothes, the male walks past Mumbo as the taller stands still. For such a height difference, Mumbo was surprised to be intimidated by someone who appears several inches shorter than him. Mumbo slowly turns his head to search past his shoulder.

The airport was bustling but it was so large and flat, you could see your dog running for days here. All the airport entrances were relatively the same and there were a variety of miniature restaurants. That's how Mumbo tracked his location on the map, by using the restaurants around him since they don't repeat.

He studies the tiled floor. His feet point towards the lurking brown puddle that he accidentally created, and an empty Starbucks cup was there to show what was responsible for the mess.

Whoever the male was, Mumbo feels absolutely sorry. He wished he was paying closer attention to the people around him and the surroundings, considering that the airport was at one of its busiest hours.

Children wailed as mothers held their children to ushered them to be silent. Random kids with iPads sat in chairs weirdly, their fingers coated with Cheeto dust and wiping across their device's screen.

Fancy business people in their attire on phone calls and average citizens cross one another in a symmetrical traffic sort of way. Meanwhile, while everyone went into lines to prevent chaos and unwanted proximity to strangers, Mumbo cut right through the swimming traffic called a crowd and collided into a short person that he couldn't see.

What a lovely time to be alive, knowing that he made a miserable person have an even worse day.

That clearly doesn't matter, seeing as he is in his own rush. Mumbo grabs his luggage and begins to speed walk. He didn't want to run and make it appear that he was in a rush, and he didn't feel like sweating in a dress shirt and coal-colored formal pants, so his next reliable option was speed walking.

If he was truthful with himself, he had a hard time pinpointing the exact location of his terminal gates and when he was supposed to get on. Nonetheless, he will continue to go around until he knows he has lost time.

The loud noise of people laughing and kids yelling because they didn't get a treat from an expensive fast food joint was enough to drive Mumbo forward.

Whether he liked it or not, he was going to get on that plane.

---

Mumbo slouched in his chair and heaved out a sigh that weighed heavier than a steam train.

His tense muscles were finally able to relax and enjoy the sweet embrace of the cushioned chairs. He didn't need to pay high amounts of money for luxury, his Bluetooth earbuds and secret snacks were enough to provide him for a trip that lasts for hours.

He closes his eyelids to take a moment and breathe. His chair was standing in the middle of two others, so he wondered who the person by the aisle will be. The person to his right, presumably next to the window, was a sweet girl with short brown hair.

A pink jacket and white shirt hug her semi-chubby figure, along with a pair of jean shorts. Her sweet smile was enough to radiate more light than the window can ever provide. The cherry on top, she has a flower crown that mirrors the popping pink of her jacket.

From what Mumbo can collect from her, she was incredibly nice and had a lovely accent to her voice. Not to mention, he can tell she was a nice individual based on the cat photos he caught her viewing in a magazine.

All seemed well until Mumbo opened his eyes when he felt a presence take a seat in the empty chair beside him. He blinks his eyelids a few times to momentarily register the situation. Mumbo was about to greet himself until he realized who was seated next to him.

"Aren't you the fucker that spilled coffee all over me?"

Mumbo's air got trapped in his throat.

The taller plants a fake smile on his lips and laugh sheepishly to the point where he looks ridiculous. A pink veil covers his cheeks as he examines the hot-headed figure sitting mere inches from him.

"U-Uh, no?" Mumbo shrugs. At this point, he wasn't sure what his body language was saying. The same blue eyes narrow down on Mumbo. Taking a closer examination, Mumbo realizes the male's hair reminds him of the inside portion of a chestnut.

It's an incredible color that catches the eye, especially when it shines under the light from the windows and plane. Metallic copper, Mumbo prefers to call it.

Peering down, Mumbo notices the male is wearing a bigger black coat which he assumes is supposed to hide the fat stain that has climbed on his comfortable ruby sweater. Before he can take a glimpse at his pants, the copper head snaps his fingers right in front of Mumbo's face.

"My eyes are up here. Are you staring at my crotch too?" The male shamelessly queries and Mumbo's pink cheeks turn into a ripe cherry during a summer afternoon. Taking in more features, freckles spill across his cheeks and seem to seep below the collar of his sweater.

"No? That's very strange. Hey, I'm sorry about the coffee. I can hand you some money to buy a new sweater or maybe give you a piece of my clothing in return?" Mumbo smiles nervously as a strand of sweat heads down the side of his head.

The freckled individual has a puzzled expression playing across his face, which makes Mumbo question if his offerings were odd.

"You're a strange one, mustache man. I'll keep that in mind," the smaller says and naturally crosses his legs. He views off in a different direction, avoiding Mumbo's staring so he can listen to his music plugged into his phone, which rests in his pocket.

Just a few hours, nothing bad will happen if they ignore each other. What's the worst that can happen?

---

Mumbo wishes he didn't ask himself that.

He tried his absolute hardest to stop his head from popping off his neck simply because he looked like a strawberry lollipop. While he got the information on the name of the person, his situation has become far more terrible than he hoped for.

"My apologies, the bathroom is occupied." The female flight attendant smiles and tries her hardest to appear nice, despite his audible groaning.

"Listen, lady," Grian, Mumbo's seat partner, points at her. "I have to go piss like a racehorse and I'll have you know that if someone doesn't exit that bathroom, I will eat all the first-class pancakes you have."

"Sir, I cannot control other individuals and their privacy in the bathroom. You will have to wait patiently like the others," the female worker carefully places her words so that won't tempt Grian further.

While Grian continues to unnecessarily bicker with the poor worker, he purposely positioned his body so Mumbo will be faced with a full butt. With every gesture Grian makes, he exaggerates his movement and makes it so it's clear that he is pressing his ass closer to Mumbo.

Stress, the female next to the window, holds in a laugh before tucking her nose in the pages of her cat magazine. The flight attendant glints around, searching for some sort of assistance from her co-workers. As she does that, Grian drills a grin in his cheeks as he shoots a view at Mumbo.

At this point, Mumbo's heart raced faster than the paws of a sprinting cheetah.

"My apologies!" Grian exclaims dramatically as something loudly clatters against the plane floor. He ducks down, keeping his rear aimed directly towards Mumbo's face.

Staring straight forward with a stern expression that he is trying too hard to form, Mumbo refuses to stare in any other direction. He knew if he looked over, he would fail to keep his composure and Grian would win the little war going on between them.

If he eyeballs the peaceful window for an extensive amount of time, Grian would catch on that Mumbo is ignoring him and press his butt closer to him.

Mumbo had learned that the hard way.

Stress besides him can sense their immense tension and she refuses to engage in the awful mess. Even when Mumbo made a look of distress that called for help, Stress pretended that a war wasn't going on next to her.

A little rough bump in the plane made the flight attendant drop some sort of liquid onto Grian's seat just as he was standing.

"I can't sit now!" Grian tosses his hands into the air after fixing his posture.

The flight attendant profusely apologizes and claims she will be back immediately with a source of cleaning equipment. While she does that, Grian glances down at Mumbo. He points at Mumbo's legs.

"Is this seat taken?"

Mumbo looks at his own legs for a split moment before quirking a dark eyebrow and prompting his eyes on Grian. 

"That's my lap." Mumbo states in a blunt manner without realizing his stupidity in stating the obvious. Not satisfied with the answer, Grian takes a hefty seat down on Mumbo's thighs.

A sound emits from Mumbo's throat. He wasn't sure if it was a rising grunt of surprise or an "oof" that sparked in his lungs, but an unusual sound came out and Grian raises an eyebrow. One of his signature grins replaces his lips.

"So, this seat isn't taken. I personally like it," Grian comments and laces his slim arm around Mumbo's neck.

Was... Was he flirting now?

And just a few hours before, Grian seemed to radiate more heat than the sun due to the amount of anger he produced. Seeing Mumbo's vulnerability of close areas with individuals and charismatic charms, Grian seemed to be getting his revenge.

He didn't need to dump any sauce or juice on Mumbo to return the evil favor.

Instead, he thought it would be more fun and practical to fish out Mumbo's weaknesses into a form that would make Mumbo suffer the amount of time Grian has been suffering in his covered sweater that smells like coffee.

The flight attendant hurriedly comes back with a towel that has a cleaning chemical on it. She scrubs the seat with an embarrassed expression and looks up at Grian.

"I'm so sorry about that! I can move you to a new seat or offer you a first-class chair." She seemed anxious about Grian being rude again. The silence between the group swallowed them and the majority of the passengers were trying to ignore the situation since it is none of their business. Grian continuously tapped his chin to express his thinking.

"Nah, I find this spot to be comfortable." He scoots himself closer to Mumbo, and Mumbo wouldn't be lying if he told himself that Grian was purposely trying to get close to his private spot. The thought alone made the top of his ears flare.

Why did he constantly have to be embarrassed?

The young woman didn't make any comments about the position they were in. She only commented that the plane was going to land soon in hopes to give Mumbo some relief.

The landing felt far longer than it actually was. Grian had made it obvious that he was content with Mumbo's lap.

Stress and the flight attendant didn't say anything that would make them appear judgy, and the people sitting across Grian and Mumbo didn't mention anything either.

When the plane officially came to a stop, they all filed off the plane like children coming off the school bus. Stress waved Mumbo and Grian happily as they separated their own ways within the airport to grab their luggage. Mumbo instantly noticed, however, that Grian stayed relatively close to his side.

When Mumbo asked why he was following after crossing the gate, Grian interjected.

"I owe you a coffee," Grian states and smiles genuinely. The first real nice smile ever since they met. He hands Mumbo a slip of paper before turning on his heels and heading off. Mumbo stands there in shock, then lowers his gaze to the paper in hand. He reads the phone number and other given information, then slowly looks back up.

Grian was already gone in the hasty crowd to go venture for his items. Mumbo stands there, the only one standing still in the moving wave of people as his mind revolves around a single thought.

That was one unusual person and plane ride.

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