our world

start of a beginning

  The hardest part of a world has to be starting it.

  You would start to miss the iron farms you take for granted once your second iron pickaxe break, and you would have to craft a third so you can go mine for more iron just to craft your fourth!

  The first night is soon approaching. The boys were currently dwelling in a cave they found on the side of the mountain with a pretty view of their spawn. It wasn't warm–or comfortable at the slightest–but at least they have some sort of shelter.

  They made the most of it. They've excavated a part of the cave to a flat little area for them to settle. Instead of spending the night on cold stone, they set up a big patch of moss to sit on, along with a cosy fireplace for the vibes.

  Grian threw the last bit of raw iron he had into the blazing furnace before taking a mossy seat next to the campfire. He sighs, rubbing his cold, sore hands near the warm fire. Resource gathering sure is a lot of work, but it does get him distracted from thinking about how he's alone with Mumbo.

  Anyhow, he currently isn't doing anything, so he lets himself think about how he's alone with Mumbo.

  Grian looks towards the back of the cave and ogles at the wonderful sight before him.

  Mumbo was only blocking off the back of the cave with cobblestone, but he was incredibly hot whilst doing so. His suit jacket was off and his dress shirt was really pushing against his muscles. Grian would throw the jacket into the fire if it would allow him to gawk at Mumbo forever, but he refrains, thinking that it would make him seem like a little bit of a jerk.

  Grian shivers, his gaze couldn't help but start to travel down when Mumbo bends down to deadlift a huge rock.

  "Oh yeah." Grian pants out. Immediately realising what has just slipped out, he snaps his head back around right as Mumbo turns his head. "Huh?"

  "My hands are cold and sore so the campfire feels nice." Grian excuses, flushed.

  "Do they hurt a lot?" Mumbo asks while placing the rock back down. 'It seems like he bought it.' Grian thinks. 'But now he's walking over.'

  Grian peers over his shoulder to Mumbo, whose sweat seems to glow in the golden sunlight, looking almost like an angel. Grian huffs. 'Why do I have to think this?'

  And just like an angel, Mumbo kneels down to Grian's level and gently checks his hand. Grian could feel the other's warmth, but it could always just be blood rushing to his cheeks.

  Mumbo was always close to Grian in Hermitcraft, heck, they've been closer, like being squished into a space pod, or getting stuck in a small hole together, in which Scar made a strange remark about, so why is it any different now?

  "They really are cold." Mumbo frowned, enfolding his hands around Grian's. He could feel his hands warm up along with his already reddened face.

  "I'm looking forward to making automatic farms for us." Mumbo smiles reassuringly. "So you won't have to mine with these flimsy pickaxes anymore."

  "Yeah... Can't wait." Grian smiles, drawing back. Mumbo nods and goes back to work. Grian knows Mumbo is being considerate, but, man. He would miss hot, sweaty, heavy lifting Mumbo.

  Oh well! Grian will savour this early game moment, kicking back and watching Mumbo flex those muscles.

  "Oh yeah."

  "FIre's nice, hm?"

  " Very nice."

---

thanks for reading!<3

the story will continue-i think. i still have a few ideas, it just takes me a long time to start writing. (i started writing the first chapter 15 days ago😬)

drop down suggestions if you want, or just say hi in the comments! talk to me, it makes me happy.