Archive of Our Own

“Bingo!” Scar cheers triumphantly, standing up from his seat and lifting his card up to the sky, showing it off to the whole room with pride. “Haha! Take that, ladies! Oh yeah, third time in a row!” he laughs, making everyone in the room groan as they proceed to clean their tables.

Grian sits in the corner of the room, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. Looking at Scar, still flaunting his victory with a scowl on his face. His own collection of six Bingo cards on the table discarded pathetically, not even anything remotely close to a line in any of them.

Grian leans to the right conspirationally, whispering to the old lady beside him. 

“I don’t know how he does it, but I know that he’s a dirty, dirty little cheater.” 

The old lady—Sharon, a charming woman in her eighties, nods in agreement, her eyes stalking Scar like a predator.

Grian’s frown deepens as he watches Scar eagerly take his cash prize, feeling his insides boil looking at those pearly white teeth smile widely in glee, brandishing his newly earned dollars with yet another group of elderly women—Gladys and her friends. God. Grian hated Gladys. 

He brings the red marker he's been clutching in his fist to his mouth, chewing furiously at its cap like a squirrel. His sharp, piercing gaze never leaves Scar. 

“He’s cheating,” Grian’s nose scrunches. 

“I just know he is.” 

-

“So you think Scar is cheating in Bingo… why?” 

Mumbo hops on the dance platform of a DDR machine, following the pink and blue arrows that are rapidly raining down on the screen. 

As soon as he went home from Bingo Friday, he had immediately called Mumbo, forcing him to meet up under the pretense of a ‘serious emergency.’ He ignored the numerous text messages from Scar asking him where he was and why he had left him at the club alone as he angrily rode the bus to the arcade, mumbling grumpily the entire way. 

Currently, Grian is sitting cross-legged on the bench placed next to the DDR machine, now chewing on a ballpoint pen in concentration as he stares daggers on to his notebook, which is filled with doodles on how Scar seemingly cheats in Bingo. Among them are: Scar pulling out the correct Bingo card out of a magician’s hat, Scar forcing Cub to make a super accurate Bingo algorithm that predicts the ultimate Bingo card, Scar shoving one hundred Bingo cards inside his underwear.

All of them are very much possible, which rouses Grian’s suspicion even more. 

“I’m not sure, Mumbo. Who knows what kind of sick, twisted motives he's got going on in his head.” He growls, scribbling a pair of evil vex wings on his current doodle of Scar. “I bet it's the greed.”

“Yeah, I mean, couldn’t exactly argue with that one,” Mumbo shrugs, knowing well enough that Scar is famously a very greedy man. 

“The question is, how does he do it?” Grian ponders, tapping the pen to his chin. 

Mumbo wipes his sweat in relief as Bad Apple reaches its end, the screen displaying an AAA in golden letters. “Surely there aren't that many ways to cheat in Bingo, right?” Mumbo asks, out of breath, leaning on one of the handrails in exhaustion.

“EEEE, Wrong!” Grian points at the mustachioed man. “There are too many ways to cheat in Bingo!” he corrects, putting his hands on his hips in conviction.

“Hm… In fact…” 

Mumbo blinks, getting more and more terrified as Grian starts to chuckle ominously, rubbing his hands together—a sign that he is definitely brewing up some sort of evil plan. 

“Yes.. Yes.. it's all coming together!" Grian finally laughs, clapping his hands in glee as he motions for Mumbo to come over.

“Wh–what are you thinking…?” The mustachioed man questions hesitantly, approaching Grian and leaning his head for him to whisper his ‘genius idea’ in his ear.

Mumbo goes quiet, before breaking off with his eyes blown out. 

“You’re going to defeat him cheating in Bingo by also cheating in retaliation?!”

"It's not cheating if he's already cheating, Mumbo,” Grian rolls his eyes. “It's just called leveling the playing field.”

“I don't know about this, Grian...” Mumbo looks around, trying to see a way out of the conversation and avoid being dragged into another one of Grian's crazy plans. “This seems a bit unnecessary…”

“I don't accept rejections!” Grian states, pulling on Mumbo's red tie so they were face to face with each other. “We are going to beat Scar no matter what.”

Mumbo sighs, knowing that it's impossible for him to escape now that Grian has got his mind set. 

“Alright, just let me do one more song.”

-

It's finally Friday. 

Grian walks into the club with a pep in his step, greeting the old ladies already seated around the tables with a warm smile, giving them a compliment or two. 

Scar grins at him, raising an eyebrow as Grian takes his seat beside him, putting his usual six cards and red marker on the table in orderly fashion. 

“Hey there, G. Looks like someone's in a good mood.”

“I don't know what you're talking about. I'm exactly how I've always been.” 

Scar's lopsided grin stretches wider, unconvinced.

“Really, now?” he challenges. 

“Same old, same old.”

“Grian, you just said hi to Gladys.”

He shrugs. 

“So?”

“You hate Gladys.”

“I don't see what's so wrong with trying to make amends with a poor, pitiful old woman.” 

Scar squints his eyes suspiciously.

“...Right.”

Grian pats his shoulder, giving him a smile. 

“May the best Bingo player win, yeah?” 

“May the best Bingo player win indeed.” 

With that, Bingo Friday commences. The caller theatrically reads out all the numbers with the occasional funny quips or puns accompanying it. Everyone is quiet, concentrating on their own cards, rendering the previously noisy room into a soft cacophony of pen scratching and fingers tapping. 

Grian sticks his tongue out, pretending to be as invested in the game as he usually is. In reality, he couldn’t fully immerse himself in all the numbers currently being read out, knowing that his phone is stored neatly inside his pant pocket, put on the lowest brightness as it currently reaches its 20th minute on an active call with Mumbo. 

Instead of worrying about the actual Bingo—knowing that he didn't really have to, Grian tries to steal glances at Scar as a means to study and find out how exactly he cheats. The man in question is staring down his card while he rubs his chin in a focus, whispering back the numbers announced by the caller so he wouldn’t immediately forget. 

Grian watches the way loose strands of Scar’s brown hair slip from his ear—falling down to his forehead, the way his bright eyes run in every possible direction as he scans the number he’s missing, the way the end of his pointer finger would sometimes slide between his teeth as he mulls over the card. 

Grian rubs the cap of his lucky red marker subconsciously. It’s in terrible condition, with teeth marks and indents all over it from how hard Grian keeps chewing on it. Just like Grian, Scar is also quite the biter. 

“Three and seven—number thirty seven!” The caller reads out.

Grian finds himself uncaring, too invested in how Scar’s hand flies in circles above the cards as he searches for the right number to mark. It’s hypnotizing. Scar should cheat more often so Grian can continue to investigate him like this. 

“U–uhm! Excuse me!” Mumbo’s awkward voice breaks the ecosystem of the room, holding the front door open. Some of the ladies take a curious glance at him, but immediately go back to marking their cards when the caller doesn't stop. 

Grian wipes the drool from his mouth. This was his cue. 

He swiftly walks over to Mumbo, not missing the way Scar’s eyes trail after him in suspicion. 

“H–hello Grian, I have brought you your important medicine.” Mumbo says stiffly, handing over a brown paper bag that Grian gratefully takes. 

“Wow, thanks Mumbo. You’re a lifesaver. I wouldn’t know what I’d do if I suddenly had a seizure and died because I forgot to take my very important medicine.” 

“Oh dear lord, bless his soul,” Grian hears Janet mutter in sympathy. Amanda from table two is rubbing her chest, and Codette sends him a pitying glance.

Good. Those nosy, eavesdropping ladies are taken care of. 

In reality, the important medicine is just some fish shaped vitamin gummies Grian likes to snack on sometimes. They just needed some excuse to distract the others from discovering what it is that’s actually being delivered, and the best thing they could come up with was, of course, lying about some deadly disease Grian has suddenly contracted out of nowhere. 

“No problem, my best friend Grian. I hope you won’t die now. You still have so much to live for, and your cats who love you very much will be so sad and depressed if you’re gone.” Mumbo says robotically, trying to read the script Grian had written on the insides of his palm the night prior. 

A single tear drops from Lorianne’s eyes. 

“Don’t worry Mumbo, I will surely live now. Because of you.” Grian shakes his hands, subtly winking at him to convey a work well done, before going back to sit in his place again. 

Scar has a bewildered expression on his face. 

“I didn’t know you were deathly ill?” he whispers. 

Grian fakes a solemn expression, looking away thoughtfully to the sky. “Everything just spreads so quickly these days…” 

He doesn’t elaborate much further, taking the ‘medicine’ and forged Bingo card out of the paper bag when Scar’s attention was somewhere else. 

He quickly downs the fish gummies, chewing on it aggressively as he replaces one of his six Bingo cards with the newly printed one, pretending as if nothing has changed. 

See, this entire time, Mumbo had been listening in on the Bingo calls, putting all the already read numbers onto a new card, placing it in a previously agreed upon position, before printing it and handing it over to Grian along with his cover up medicine. 

So when Grian dots all the numbers on the cards, and raises his hand high, shouting “Bingo!” from the top of his lungs, he, of course, immediately wins the game. 

The ladies, fuelled by their previous eavesdropping of Grian’s supposed terrible health condition, cheer loudly for him, congratulating his ‘very much deserved’ win. 

Grian takes his cash prize with a smug grin, pretending to be touched when Janet tells him that “this was a part of God's plans for you.” 

God’s plans? Yeah right, he sees no god up there except himself. 

“Congratulations, Grian.” Scar smiles at him, but it's much more controlled than it normally is. There’s not even a crook on this one, it’s perfectly straight and symmetrical. 

His chest aches a bit seeing the obviously fake smile Scar is giving him, but satisfaction immediately patches it when he remembers that he has successfully beaten Scar in his own game. 

“Why, thank you Scar, your support is so precious to me.” 

“Yes, of course. I hope your… sickness doesn't get worse. Speaking of… what kind of sickness do you have exactly?”

Uh oh, spagwettios. Grian didn’t really think that far ahead. He panics, a bead of sweat runs down his nose bridge when he realizes that the ladies are also listening in, curious on his answer. 

“Oh… um. Rabies.” He finally settles, picking on the first deadly disease that first appears in his head. 

Lorianne gasps, tears pooling in her eyes which she then quickly wipes away with a handkerchief. Codette quickly rubs Lorianne’s back as a way to comfort her. 

“Oh you poor boy,” Janet sorrowfully mourns. “And you’re still so young, too.”

“It’s okay Janet, I’ve already accepted it.” Grian responds, deciding to fully go into it in his panicked haze. “All I want to do now is to spend the rest of my life doing what I love best… Bingo.” 

That has successfully caught all the ladies' hearts, all of them taking turns to hug Grian and kissing him on his cheek, not before asking if rabies was contagious first, of course.

Scar is the only person not to shower him in embrace. Everyone else had their turns, even Gladys. 

Grian faces him, closing his eyes and spreading his arms a bit in a silent invitation for Scar to hug him as well.

But instead of his big, muscly hands all over him, Scar walks right past him, heading straight to the exit. 

Grian watches him leave, his head hanging low in disappointment when the door finally closes. He’s not quite sure why he was looking forward to Scar’s comforting hug in response to his fake illness, but he didn't like the way it left him feeling empty inside.

“Oh, poor Scar, he must be so upset to hear that his best friend is dying.” Grian caught one of the ladies whispering to her friend. 

Grian sighs. 

-

The next Friday couldn’t come any quicker. 

Grian is once again seated on his designated spot. His six cards and red marker neatly arranged on his table. He pretends to study them, memorising the numbers like he always does before the game starts. He didn’t need to, obviously, knowing that none of these six cards will actually matter in the end. 

“Well hello there, Grian.” Scar takes a seat next to him. “Did you enjoy the cookies I baked for you yesterday?” He asks sweetly as he puts his bag on the floor. 

“Yeah, they’re amazing. Thank you, Scar.” 

“No problem. I know perfectly well that sweets do wonders to cheer someone up.” He smiles innocently. “Especially someone who is so terribly sick such as yourself!”

“Haha,” Grian awkwardly laughs. “Yep…”

“Alright, is everybody ready?” The caller asks loudly through the microphone, signalling the start of the game. “It’s time for another round of Bingo Friday!"

Everyone’s attention is all set on their cards, scratching and dotting the spread with their pens and markers as the numbers get called out one by one.  

Like what he did last week, Grian fakes his interest, not even caring when he misses a few calls, more invested in looking over at Scar again to ‘study his cheating methods.’

Grian’s eyes trails over his nose bridge, the marking on his skin, his lips, his neck, then down to his chest as the numbers fifty five, seven, and thirteen are being read out. When he finally looks up, satisfied with his exploration for any ‘suspicious clues’, he finds Scar’s curious green eyes staring back at him. 

Grian freezes in place, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment at being caught. 

One side of Scar’s lips tugs itself into a small grin, making all of Grian’s remaining brain cells suffocate and die. 

“Err.. sorry, Grian…?” Mumbo’s faraway voice resurrected Grian’s thoughts. The man, as instructed, is once again here to deliver Grian’s forgotten medicine. He has his head peeking in the room, nervously searching for his friend. 

“Oh. Darts. Silly me, forgetting my medicine again,” Grian chuckles, going over to Mumbo to pick up his package. “Thanks again, Mumbo.” 

“No problem at all, Grian. Always happy to help my lying best friend.” Mumbo replies, reading the script from his palm. 

“It’s dying.” Grian whispers frantically, trying to correct Mumbo’s misreading.

“Oh! Uh… I mean. Dying best friend. Not lying, he is not lying at all!”

“Nice save,” Grian mouths to him, and Mumbo nods in relief. 

He grabs the paper bag from Mumbo’s hands, about to head back to his seat when suddenly Scar slams the table, pointing at him accusingly.

“Aha! So you are cheating, I knew it!” He declares fiercely, making the room suddenly explode into chaos. 

Seeing the commotion, Mumbo quickly escapes, slamming the door behind him after nervously shouting “it was Grian's idea, I have no part in this!” 

Grian’s jaw drops at Mumbo's betrayal, leaving him alone to face a grinning Scar rapidly approaching him. 

“Me? Cheating? Why would I ever cheat in Bingo? I love Bingo, my only wish is to keep playing Bingo until the day that I die,” Grian whimpers pitifully, putting the back of his hand to his forehead. 

“Oh please,” Scar chuckles, before staring sharply at him again. “You’re not even sick, are you?!”

His accusation makes the room erupt into shocked murmurs, everyone’s eyes are on Grian, awaiting his response. 

“W–what makes you reach that conclusion?” 

“Oh, Grian. Sweet, sweet Grian,” Scar slowly shakes his head. “I baked you cookies yesterday. Chocolate chip cookies. And you ate them.” 

Grian gulps. “So…?” 

“Fool!” Scar suddenly points to him again, laughing. “Dogs can’t eat chocolate! You don’t actually have rabies!” 

Everyone in the room gasps. 

Grian grits his teeth, taking a step back. In between all his distress, he couldn’t seem to think straight, not even registering how ridiculous Scar’s deduction is and how that is definitely not how rabies works at all. 

“But that doesn’t explain how I supposedly cheat in Bingo!” He retaliates, trying to defend himself to no avail. 

“Yeah? Well then explain this!” Scar shouts, lifting a Bingo card in his hands for everyone to see. His Bingo card. The forged Bingo card he had Mumbo made for him so he could cheat. 

Grian’s eyes go wide, searching for the paper bag in his hands, only to realise far too late that It was already gone, stolen right under his nose. 

“I must say, Grian. You’re a clever one. Having an accomplice listen in to the callings and making you the winning Bingo card, using all the numbers already called. It’s smart, but not smart enough!”

Grian bites his lips, frustration from being found out bubbling aggressively inside him. He refuses to back away without a fight.

“Funny you’re the one who says this…” Grian chuckles quietly, head facing the ground. 

Scar’s triumphant smile wavers slightly. “What are you implying?” 

“Accusing me of cheating… when you know exactly what made me do it in the first place.” 

“I–I have no idea what you’re trying to say—” 

“It’s you!” Grian turns the blame around like hitting a shuttlecock, tossing it away to the opponent. “I only cheated because you cheated in the first place!” 

“What?!” Scar shrieks at the accusation. “Noo… noo… me?! I mean, pfttt, no way!” He tries to laugh it off, but the strained laughter only shows that he’s nervous. 

“That’s redonculous, err, rebonduculous. Gosh darn it! What is that word?!” 

“Ridiculous.” Grian states, folding his hands together. “And you’re right Scar, it is ridiculous.” 

Scar blinks at him. “Really?” 

“Yeah, it’s ridiculous how you managed to win three times in a row!” 

A chorus of agreement slowly spreads throughout the crowd, many of them nodding at how suspicious it was.

“It’s true!” Sharon passionately shouts from her table. 

“It’s a coincidence, I won fair and square!” Scar tries to defend himself.

“Right, and didn’t you know that the chances of that happening—winning Bingo three times in a row, is less than four point two percent?!” Grian challenges with a scoff, pressing Scar further into a corner. 

In truth, Grian had just spouted a random number. He doesn't actually know the percentage or the statistics of Scar winning thrice in a row. It just seems more convincing if there were accompanying numbers to back his claim. 

“I–I just got lucky!” 

“Come on Scar, admit it already, you cheated.” 

“I—” Scar raises a pointer finger up, “—swear on my left kidney, that I did not cheat!” 

As soon as he says that, tens or perhaps even hundreds of Bingo cards start flooding out from the bottom of his pants, streaming down on the floor like a river. 

Everybody watches in silence as more and more keeps coming out, like a magician pulling rolls of colorful scarves out of their mouth. At the moment, it feels as if it would never end, forming a mountain of Bingo cards on his feet that just keeps on piling. 

Eventually, after three whole minutes, it comes to a stop.

Scar coughs, shaking his pant leg a bit, tugging it with his hand to let a few strays still stuck inside his pants drop to the ground. 

“Geez. I mean, how did that get in there?” Scar scratches his head, looking at the Bingo card mountain below him in feigned confusion. 

Everyone in the room knows exactly how they got in there.  

As if sensing the growing hostility in the air, Scar chuckles nervously, looking around the sea of frowning old women with a charming smile. 

“He–hey now ladies, e–everyone makes mistakes, right?” 

It wasn't long until the two of them were kicked out of Bingo Club. 

Scar and Grian stand on the side of the road, the doors of the club building firmly shut and locked, never letting them in ever again as it is made explicitly clear that the two of them are permanently banned. 

“...”

“...”

“...Sorry about your left kidney.”

“What?”

Grian raises an eyebrow at him.

“Your left kidney? You swore on it?”

“Oh!” Scar giggles nonchalantly “No worries, I already sold my left kidney anyways. I just essentially swore on nothing.” 

“Wait–wait a minute. You sold your left kidney?” 

“Oh, yeah. It's a whole thing. New Jersey, am I right?” 

Grian is too scared to ask about New Jersey. 

“Yeah…” 

They stand in silence for a few seconds, with one or two cars occasionally driving past them, leaving them to think about their newly banned status in the quiet evening heat. 

“Whatever,” Grian pouts after a while, crossing his arms in annoyance. “Bingo wasn't even that fun anyways.” 

“Yeah. Too many numbers,” Scar agrees. “And it goes so fast... Ugh, stresses me out.”

Grian nods, staring blankly at the empty street, thinking over their last few Bingo Fridays, remembering the way Scar would rather die than miss a week, always there with two Bingo cards and an orange marker as he struggles to concentrate on the game. 

“Why did you do it?”

“Huh?”

“You know,” Grian gestures lamely at the club building. “Bingo? Why come every week if you hate it so much? Why cheat?” 

Scar pulls his eyes to the ground, kicking on a stray pebble. He scratches the side of his head in contemplation. 

“Well… because of you, mostly.” 

Grian blinks, swiftly craning his neck to face Scar, his mouth gaping open in surprise. 

“Wh–you… you do it because of me?” 

“Uh… yeah,” Scar chuckles bashfully, his cheeks a beautiful shade of Grian’s favourite red. “Honestly, I just wanna be close to you. You know? Do what you do, enjoy what you enjoy. You always look so happy when you beat those old ladies.” 

It's true… he does love beating old ladies… 

Grian didn't know what to say. He didn't even think Scar’s reasoning would be this profound—this sweet. He feels his heart simultaneously melting and combusting all at the same time. 

“And I started cheating cause…” Scar hides his face beneath his hand, covering it in embarrassment. “I guess I wanted to impress you.” 

Tears started flowing out of his eyes. He cheated in Bingo… for him? That was the loveliest thing anyone had ever said to him. What did he even do to have such a wonderful man in his life? 

“I love you.” Those words spill right out of Grian's mouth before he even gets the chance to think about stopping it. He stares at Scar with such intensity, he doesn’t even dare blink—afraid Scar will disappear into dust if he did. 

Scar stares at him in bewilderment. The hands previously shielding his face now cupping his own cheeks to try and ground himself. 

“You… really mean it?” 

Grian shockingly finds how easy it is for him to sincerely say yes. 

Scar closes the distance between them, his hands slithering up the back of Grian’s head as they kiss, which turns messy real quickly. 

Their tongues interlock, Grian greedily pulls on Scar's neckline, they try to break the physics of matter and try to conjoin their atoms together, becoming impossibly closer. 

“I love you too.”

A car passes by and honks at them. They don’t really care, finding it much more worthwhile to continue eating each other's faces out. 

“Oh, get out of here!” The sound of Gladys' annoying voice finally breaks the two of them apart. 

The old woman has her fist raised high, shaking furiously. Her face is red in anger. 

“Disgusting! You two are disgusting! We don't need to see all this!” 

Grian rolls his eyes, an arm coiling around Scar's. This is exactly why he hates Gladys.

“Oh, shut up Gladys, you homophobe!” Scar spits back, to which Gladys tactlessly gives him the rude finger in retaliation. 

“Ugh. Typical.” Grian huffs in irritation, dragging Scar away by the hand. 

“Come on Scar, we have better places to be.” 

“Better places to maybe, possibly, cheat in again? Perhaps even together?” 

Grian flashes him a conspiratory grin.

“Bingo!”