Work Text:
Kris enjoyed the holidays a normal amount.
Certainly not as much as their neighbor, Noelle, whose family starts putting out Christmas decorations November 1st and keeps them up all the way through February. They usually spend the holidays with her family--back when both families were much larger and less divorced--but now they and their mother only stop by for dinner. In years past, they would come over Christmas Eve and stay all the way through the 26th, gorging on Christmas cookies and playing with all of the new toys each kid received. Now, things are quieter--they exchange their gifts, eat a nice meal, and share good company before heading their separate ways.
And certainly not as little as their friend-slash-soon-to-be-sister Susie, who had never celebrated Christmas at all before Kris. It was a “fine shame”, as Kris’s mother put it, but Kris delighted themselves in indoctrinating Susie with the festive spirit. Binge-watching classic Christmas movies, baking cookies, decorating the tree--the whole nine yards. She filled the home with an energy Kris hasn’t experienced in a long time; the fiery joy of making your first gingerbread house, the humor of watching your first cheesy Hallmark movie. All things Kris experienced when they were first adopted (a long long time ago) that they now get to share with their closest friend. Not to mention, Susie got to come along to Noelle’s house, giving Kris ample opportunities to push the helpless girls closer and closer together. It was funny to watch the two fumble over their words as they got caught under their third bundle of mistletoe (that Kris had craftily planted minutes prior), before Susie finally screamed a profanity and planted a kiss right on Noelle’s cheek. Needless to say, Kris was owed an extra batch of double chocolate chunk cookies the next time they saw Noelle.
The only other person Kris knew who enjoyed the holidays at the same level of them is Berdly. Which is why they were standing outside his house, shivering slightly in the cold.
Truth be told, they had never spent a whole lot of time with Berdly over winter break. He has a tendency to hole himself away for the three weeks they have off doing God knows what. They figure it’s either studying or gaming (or some unholy mix of the two), but he’s notoriously hard to get a hold of during the Christmas season. Not that Kris had much of a reason to talk to the bookish boy prior to this year--having recently rekindled their friendship after a few years of being awkwardly growing up--but they know Noelle has mentioned his flakiness on attending parties this time of year. Their best guess is that he’s indifferent to the whole affair. Or maybe he’d just rather spend time with family? Though it seems like the least likely explanation.
So that’s why Kris is here. To (hopefully) spread some mild Christmas cheer to someone they hold dear.
(Or--platonic mutual good fortune. Dear just rhymed. That’s why. Yep. Don’t think too much into it.)
They ring the doorbell a second time to banish any troubling thoughts from their head, fiddling with the wrapping of the gift clutched in their hands. There isn’t any reason for Kris to be thinking of those kinds of thoughts. It was…stupid. Just a trick of their hormones, probably. Not that there isn’t anything bad about Berdly. He’s sweet, in his own weird way. Once you get past all the very obvious compensating via a largely-inflated ego, he’s a pretty nice guy. And, as previously mentioned, they used to be friends. Back when life was simpler and school didn’t involve piles of homework. Kris remembers Berdly being a frequent guest of their house, playing pretend in the backyard or gaming in the living room until dinnertime. They even remember a few Christmases where Berdly tagged along. (They also remember him attending those Christmases alone , which makes them think that his averseness to socializing around this time might have some more explanation than just a passive enjoyment of the holidays.) But life got in the way of that friendship, leaving the two to grow into differing individuals. Kris--once an energetic ball of fire--retreated into their shell some without the support of their brother. And Berdly--once a quiet but friendly little boy--burst into a new identity of being the smart kid. An identity that Kris understood was a falsehood from the moment it began, but one that remained the whole of his personality until very recently. Now, they’re starting to see Berdly find some middle ground between past and present. He’s passionate and loud, but slightly less condescending and slightly more compassionate. A change that has allowed Kris to come back into his life, and a change that has caused a change within Kris that they’re maybe not the most excited about.
(Susie makes fun of them for it, but she’s not allowed to judge. She’s also into nerds.)
They ring the doorbell a third time because Jesus fuck how has no one answered the door yet --
The door opens mid-ring, startling Kris. In the doorway stands a woman in her mid-thirties with auburn hair and green eyes, eyeing the teenager with mild confusion. Kris stiffens up (they didn’t expect anyone other than the boy to answer the door) but they give the woman a small wave.
“Um--hello?” she says with awkward politeness. “Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Berdly.” Kris’s voice is stiff and slightly hoarse--they weren’t expecting to be met with a stranger, so their pre-prepared social etiquette has flown out the window. “I’m his…friend.” They hold the present out, shaking it a little to somehow emphasize that point, and the woman’s face relaxes. She smiles warmly and moves out of the way of the entrance. Kris takes the invitation if only to get out of the cold.
“He didn’t tell me was expecting anyone,” she explains, turning towards the steps behind her. “Though, to be fair, he doesn’t tell me much. I’ll go get him for you.” She heads up the steps, calling out his name as she does, leaving Kris on the first floor. Curiously, they peek around some. They’ve never been inside his house before, but they’re not exactly surprised by what they see. The home is clean and very nice, with Christmas decorations tastefully put around. They spot a large flatscreen in the living room playing It’s a Wonderful Life! next to a Christmas tree tastefully decorated.
But their observing is cut short by the sound of quick footsteps in front of them. They turn to see Berdly frozen on the stairs just above them. He’s wearing a tacky Christmas sweatshirt that says “I PAUSED MY GAME FOR THIS” in faux-stitch font and brown pajama pants, a Santa hat sitting askew atop his shoddily-dyed hair. His face is flushed (though from exertion, some kind of skin condition, or something else entirely is unknown to Kris) and his jaw is slacked. Almost as if he expected to see nothing at all at the bottom of the steps. That thought conjures a swarm of butterflies in the bottom of Kris’s gut.
“Merry Christmas,” they mutter, holding up the gift. Berdly’s gaze moves from Kris’s face to the box, somehow looking even more surprised.
“I--Thanks???” his voice cracks. That shouldn’t be endearing, but it is. “What are you doing here???”
“I dunno,” is their automatic answer, until they realize they do have an explanation. “I mean. I wanted to come see you.” Berdly looks between the gift and their face for a moment before he hops down the last two steps to stand in front of Kris. He hesitantly reaches for the gift, silently asking “can I?” as he inches towards the box. Kris smiles and hands it over to him. “You can open it now, if you want.” Berdly smiles nervously and tears open the wrapping paper, revealing the gundam figure (in original packaging ) hiding underneath the festive exterior. Berdly gasps, nearly dropping the box in his excitement, and stares bug-eyed at the teen.
“I-I--Are you serious ?!” He squeaks out. “Kris--this figure is extremely rare! The cheapest I saw it going for was three-hundred dollars! What did--Why did you do this!?” Kris smiles and shrugs.
“Felt like it.” They smile a bit wider when Berdly’s look of shock goes to near horror at the thought of them casually spending several hundred dollars on a friend. “You left the eBay link open on my phone the last time we hung out. I just watched it until the price shot below $100. Thought you’d appreciate not having to spend your library money on it.” Only a few parts of that story are true (mainly the link being left open on their phone), but there’s no reason to dwell on the white lies peppered in. How Kris got the figure isn’t important; what’s more important is the delight radiating off of Berdly like a nuclear reactor. Their mom has always said the joy is worth the pain, and she’s never been wrong before.
“But--But I didn’t get you anything ! I can’t accept this!” Berdly thrusts the box back into Kris’s arms. Kris shakes their head firmly.
“I don’t want it.” They push it back to Berdly.
“But you deserve to enjoy the--the delights of assembling your own gundam!” Back to Kris.
“So do you.” Back to Berdly.
“I can’t possibly accept this without something to give in return!” Kris.
“Don’t worry about it.” Berdly.
“I will worry! It’s not fair!” Kris.
“It’s Christmas.” Berdly.
“That doesn’t matter!” Kris.
“Yes it does.” Berdly.
“Doesn’t!”
“Does.”
“Doesn’t!”
“Does.”
“Doesn’t!”
“Does”
“Doesn--”
“ Please quiet down!” The pair turn to see the woman at the top of the stairs. She’s holding an infant in her arms, rocking her gently as she stares down at the two. “I’m trying to put Robin to bed.” Immediately, Berdly flusters once more and mutters an apology. Kris takes the opportunity to shove the box back into Berdly’s arms, sticking their tongue out triumphantly when he glares back at them.
“Sorry about that,” he says quietly. “I--Thank you for the gift.” His smile loses its bravado and shifts into something more genuine--subdued and soft, like the gentle brushstrokes of a watercolor painting. Kris’s heart stammers and betrays any semblance of indifference their mind attempted to project into their nerves. They pull at their sleeves (for lack of a better thing to hold) and shrug. Berdly looks up at the steps (now free of his guardian) and back to Kris, uncharacteristically nervous. “Do…Do you want to stay for a while? We can hang out…?” Kris’s eyes widen in surprise, which Berdly misinterprets as negative and instantly backtracks.
“I-I mean!” He stiffens up, tilting his chin up in that way he does when he’s about to go into a boastful spiel. “My stepmother gifted me the latest Halo for Christmas and I have yet to spar someone online with the level of first-person-shooting prowess that I possess. And since you have shown your worth in Super Smash Bros., I think it would be a ripe playing field for some rivalrous competition! Something that I sure you lack with that brute hanging around your--” Kris gives him a look that collapses that train of thought on-impact. “--I mean. I-I’m sure Susie doesn’t appreciate the art of no-scoping like we do. So, if you would like, I am willing to lend some time to you for…recreational activities…um. I-If you’re not busy.”
Kris gives not a second of thought to their decision and nods, delighting in the same wide smile he had moments before as he grabs them by the wrist and leads them upstairs. They can’t help the laugh that escapes their lips at their friend’s enthusiasm. For as much as Berdly pretends he doesn’t need anyone, he sure does get excited when someone wants to spend time with him. He pulls Kris through the hallway, passing a door with a stocking nailed to the front of it (a red “R” stitched into the white part) and stopping in front of the door across it. There’s another stocking nailed to this door (a letter “B” on it instead) but there’s also some police tape stuck around it, warning: “DANGER: GAMER AHEAD. NOOBS TREAD WITH CAUTION.” Kris rolls their eyes at the tacky decorations while Berdly opens the door, dragging Kris inside before shutting it firmly behind them.
The dim lighting causes Kris to squint for a second. The room is…as expected. Berdly flaunts himself as a “true gamer”, so it isn’t a surprise that his room reflects that so perfectly. LED lights lined the top border of his walls, shining a soft blue in the otherwise dark room. He also had some string lights strung around the television and his desk, looking as if they were put there in a rush instead of carefully mapped out (like what Kris would expect). His room was primarily taken up by three things: his bed (a full, to Kris’s immense jealousy), his desk (complete with full PC setup and additional room for schoolwork), and his television (complete with every game console known to man). Everything else was crammed in there, making the room feel small despite its size, but Kris didn’t feel overwhelmed by it all. Surprisingly enough, they feel pretty comfortable, especially as they watch Berdly scramble to set up a place for Kris to sit amidst the nest of blankets, pillows, and cushions in front of the TV. They step over towards him, picking up the abandoned gundam box and scanning the room for a place to put it. There are shelves lined with anime figures, Funko Pops, and other such collectibles; Kris can tell by the amount of certain things how long Berdly’s had each obsession for. The gundam collection is small, compared to the amount of Amiibo figures, so it’s a recent interest. They decide to leave the box on his bed for him to sort with later.
“Usually I play games from my bed, but I don’t think that would be an appropriate seating position for two elite gamers.” Berdly explains as he rises to his feet, puffing his chest out slightly as he presents the cushioned spot on the floor. “I think a more… intimate setting is in order for our matches.” Kris pretends not to fixate on the word “intimate” and nods passively, taking their spot on the floor without question. Berdly smirks and sits down beside them. His knee brushes against theirs. They both freeze.
Silence. Kris regrets wearing such a bulky garment to this occasion.
“Um--Anyway,” Berdly coughs into his hand, scooting over a decent two inches as he grabs his Xbox controller and flicks to the game. “I hope you’re ready for a heated gaming session, Kris, because I’m not going to go easy on you!” He hands Kris the other controller as the game boots up. The iconic opening music blasts through the stereo system and startles Kris; Berdly quickly fishes for the remote and brings the music down to a more acceptable volume, offering Kris an apologetic look. Kris smiles in a way that they hope shows that they aren’t bothered. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, so it’s not like he could prepare for someone else’s sensory issues. Still, it is nice how quickly he was able to accommodate Kris’s personal sensitivities, even if it is common decency. They recall plenty of times where grown adults have ignored their overstimulation issues and left them to fend against the offending sensations. It’s nice to know someone’s paying attention.
(They ignore the especially when it’s him that their brain unhelpfully tacks on. Now’s not the time for that.)
Now’s the time for gaming . Berdly has already sped through the menu and selected multiplayer, adjusting the Deathmatch settings to his exact liking. Kris holds the control more firmly as Berdly turns to them. The reflection in his glasses nearly obscure his eyes, but Kris can see the competitive glint shining through like this were a sports anime. Kris makes sure their expression matches his energy.
“Kris,” Berdly says, “are you ready to face the wrath of GamerBerdOfficial?”
“Ready.” They nod.
“Then let the games…begin!”
---
In short: they wipe the floor with him. Years of bumping shoulders with Asriel during COD rounds has trained them for this level of no-scoping and knife-killing. The first two rounds Berdly wins (which he gloats about for the next 5 rounds, despite those all being losses) but Kris quickly adapts to his playing style and schools him accordingly. There are many a muttered swear as Kris gets off headshot after headshot, and Berdly’s triumphant boasting soon turns to cries of cheating and unpatched bugs. They switch controllers at least 8 times before Berdly resigns himself to dropping the “hacked controller” excuse; all the while, Kris giggles mischievously to themself as they gorge on the unbridled rage of their gamer friend.
“Th-That’s it! Break time!” Berdly shouts after his 12th consecutive loss, backing out of the multiplayer menu as he shoots to his feet. “I--I need to get some gamer fuel!” He stomps to the door, throwing it open with a huff, before abruptly stopping and turning back to his friend. “Do…Do you want anything?” Kris laughs to themself.
“I’m good. Thanks Berdly.” they reply with a playful wink. Berdly’s eyes seem to bulge out of his for a second--face turning an amusing shade of red--before he nods and slams the door. Kris waits in silence for his footsteps to fade out, then laughs a bit more heartily. This is fun. This was a good decision to make.
They pull out their phone and scroll through the unread messages. One is from their mother, asking when they think they’ll be home, and the rest are from Susie and Noelle. Kris skims the paragraph-long freakout Noelle sent them (something something “SHE CALLED ME CUTE ON FACETIME WHAT DO I DO” something), then switches to the string of misspelled swears Susie sent in quick succession before saying: “GODDANMITT KRSI COME HOM ALREDY”. They delight in their best friend’s torture and send a few cryptic emojis before setting down their phone to ignore for the rest of the night. They’ll let Susie blow some steam off in their messages before giving her some actual advice on how to ask Noelle out. They decide to get up and explore the room a bit more. They gravitate towards the figure shelf--specifically the gundams, which Kris notes all seem to be in mint condition. A few of them appear pre-built, while others Berdly clearly hand painted. The thought of Berdly hunched over his desk, painting little plastic toys with precise strokes of a cheap paint brush, jumps to the forefront of Kris’s mind and they have to fight the way their heart flutters like a paper bag in the wind. That shouldn’t be endearing, but it is. And Kris isn’t sure how they can reconcile with that fact, trapped in a room full of endearing aspects of their friend-slash-okay-maybe-sorta-crush.
Luckily, they only have to grapple with those thoughts for a moment more, as Berdly opens the door and catches them poking at his figures. They turn back with a start; the two lock eyes from across the room. Kris feels the heat climb up their face as Berdly watches them; he has a can of soda and a water bottle in each hand. Kris’s stomach flips when they realize Berdly got them something anyway, and they mentally beat the sentimental part of their brain over the head with a metal chair. Berdly gets over whatever thought stopped him in his tracks and gently shuts the door with his foot. He walks over to Kris and extends an arm, offering up the drinks.
“Um, here.” He says quickly. “I thought it’d be rude if I didn’t get you anything, so I got you what I’m having.” Kris grabs the drinks from Berdly’s hand--the soda is Mtn Dew, which doesn’t feel surprising--and offers him a smile in thanks. “I see you’re admiring my collection, hm? Perhaps feeling some…jealousy?” There’s the classic cockiness; Kris was almost starting to miss it. Almost .
“I think it’s cool,” they reply simply. “When did you start getting the gundams?”
“Ah, those? Yes, yes, I shouldn’t be surprised that those caught your interest. I started my collection a few months ago; the Librarby had one in the children’s room, if you could believe it! Such priceless figurines, cast amongst the toys !” Kris elects to not voice how gundams are just really expensive toys. “I asked the librarian if I may rescue the poor figure, and she accepted the trade of a week’s salary for it. I had to do quite a bit of refurbishing to the poor thing--kids can be so cruel with their playthings--but now it sits good as new amongst the mint conditions!” Berdly gestures to one of the hand painted gundams with a grandiose swing of his arm, and Kris politely golf-claps in response. He preens himself on the applause, going so far as to bow a few times, which causes Kris to laugh. He keeps up the act for a few moments before devolving into giggles himself, leaning into Kris’s shoulder for a second as he does so. The contact sends electricity through Kris’s veins, promptly ending their laughter. Surprisingly, it does the same to Berdly.
Silence. Again.
Jesus, it’s really hot in here, ain’t it? He should invest in a fan or something.
“Ahem. We should, um--break time over.” Berdly mutters, turning heel and scurrying back to his spot on the floor. Kris makes their way over without a word, setting their drinks down as Berdly gulps half of his Mtn Dew down in one go. He grabs the controller and starts to boot back up multiplayer, then stops. “Hm. I am starting to think we might get bored if we return to our previous match settings.” Kris understands this is Berdlyspeak for I really don’t want to get my ass kicked a hundred more times and lets him keep going. “Perhaps we make things more…interesting?”
“Interesting…how?” Kris asks. Berdly thinsk on this for a moment.
“Well, maybe a wager? Betting always makes the streamers more interested in their games.” Okay, now we’re talking Kris’s language--they love a good bet. That’s how they’ve earned half of their money at this point.
“I like betting,” Kris replies, before they realize they left all that hard-earned cash at home. And it’s not like they’re going to ask their mom to bring over betting money to Berdly’s house. “But I don’t have cash.”
“Me neither,” Berdly’s brows furrow as he thinks over this problem, leaving Kris to wonder why he’d suggest betting if he didn’t have any money on him to bet with. “Maybe….hmmm…” He starts looking around the room, scrambling for some alternative to cash bets, when his eyes land on…Kris. “What about that?” He points at their head.
Now it’s Kris’s turn to furrow their brows as they blindly pat around the top of their head, feeling the fabric horns of their favorite headband atop their nest of hair. Immediately, they stiffen up.
“My headband!?” They shout, suddenly terrified at the thought of losing it. Berdly jumps in shock, waving his hands in front of him placatingly.
“N-No! Not the headband! Th--What’s on the headband!” He clarifies. This calms them somewhat, but they still don’t know what he means. They take the headband off to inspect what Berdly might be suggesting because--oh.
Oh .
Kris had forgotten about that.
Sometime before they left Noelle’s house--sometime after Susie kissed Noelle--they were cornered by their furious sister with the offending flora. She picked up that they were the culprit for the strategic placement of it and decided to punish them by wrangling it onto one of the horns of their headband. This caused their mother to plant a few motherly kisses on their cheek--a major blow to their teenage-angst persona. But after she had delivered her blows, the subject was dropped.
But the mistletoe was still on their headband.
Which Berdly was pointing to.
“The,” Kris’s heart leaps into their throat, nearly suffocating them under the implications of his suggestion, “the mistletoe??” They look up at Berdly incredulously, who stares back with a kind of lost expression. He seems to be admiring something, but quickly recovers and adjusts the forgotten Santa hat on his head.
“I-I simply was--It was simply a festive suggestion! You’re all decked out--as one might say--in holiday gear, so I thought that mayb--maybe you’d enjoy a holiday-related wager?” He is trying so desperately to be cool about this, but he can’t quite make eye contact with Kris anymore. “Mistletoe is for kissing, correct? A-And we’ve been under it for quite some time. So tradition suggests that we, uh--that we should k--that we should partake, correct? Why not make it a bet?” Kris is speechless as Berdly finds a way to be redder than their Christmas sweater. “If you win a match, y-you can kiss me. And if I win a match, I can k-kiss you.”
They can hardly believe what they’re hearing. A bet? To kiss Berdly ? If they were any other person--Susie is an immediate example--they would laugh it off and call Berdly something mean. Like a weirdo. Or a freak (Susie loves the word freak, which is respectable because so does Kris). They would then throw the controller in Berdly’s face and, still laughing, leave his room and walk all the way back home. They’d laugh about it until they saw someone else to laugh about it with, then they’d laugh some more as they explained the situation. Then they’d keep laughing well into the morning, only stopping to laugh between bites of food and brushes of their teeth. They’d laugh about it through the rest of the break until they could laugh in Berdly’s face about it again at school.
But Kris is not that person. And, truth be told, they don’t even think Susie’s that person.
Instead, they stare at their crush and think over the blessing they’ve been handed on a silver platter, and say yes.
“R-Really?” Berdly squeaks out, surprised he managed to sell that at all. Kris laughs nervously as they place their headband back on their head.
“Sure, why not.” Is all they offer as a response. “Could be fun.” They grip their controller with an unprecedented amount of strength to keep their mouth from moving and ruining everything, giving Berdly a competitive smirk. Berdly stares for a second, almost stuck in a trance, before shaking his head and pressing confirm on the round.
“W-Well!!” He announces. “Let the games begin, then!”
And with that, round one begins.
If Kris was playing casually before, they’re now playing like a pro. Immediately jumping for weapons and charging Berdly’s character, shooting at-will. Berdly dies and they can hear him curse as a cacophony of butterflies spring to life in their belly. His character respawns and has the advantage, sniping Kris from afar while they’re searching (gamer etiquette no screen-peeking) and earning himself a point. The two exchange kills like this for most of the match, keeping the score tied, until Kris suddenly gains a second wind and starts sniping Berdly consecutively. Death after death, Kris forms a gap that the boy simply cannot cross as the time ticks to zero.
The round ends, displaying Kris’s character as the victor. Kris’s mouth suddenly feels dry.
Silence for a third time. The butterflies are starting to migrate into their chest.
“Okay, you win,” Berdly’s voice is featherlight. “Do your worst.” Kris turns to see him already facing them, brown eyes wide and cheeks flushed. They get caught in those eyes, admiring the shimmer from the game’s reflection in his irises. The world stops spinning.
They decide to play it safe, for now, and quickly kiss him on the forehead. Somewhere innocuous. Where a mother might kiss, even. Doesn’t betray any sort of underlying feelings. Just…is.
Berdly deflates, almost looking…disappointed? But he says nothing as he boots up the next round.
The second round goes similarly to the first. The two are neck-in-neck, playing at the top of their ability, but Kris is ultimately the victor. Berdly looks less frustrated than he did when they were first playing and turns to Kris without a word.
Kris chooses the nose this time. He’s always complaining about it, or looking down at it with disdain in class. He’s voiced how he thinks it’s “too protruding” and “makes him look birdlike”, but Kris likes his nose. It’s unique; just like the rest of him. Cute, even.
Plus, it gives the added effect of watching Berdly go cross-eyed as they lean in to plant one there, leaving behind a reddish imprint right on the tip. His face steadily flushes to match the color, and Kris is silently grateful they decided to do their makeup today. They can almost picture the carnage left on Berdly’s face after a few rounds; red lips marking their victories like stickers on the refrigerator. They ignore how their heart skips at the possessive nature of such a sight and takes the hit as Berdly kills their character.
“I wasn’t ready!” They cry out, sticking out their tongue. Berdly snickers.
“Not my fault you’re not paying attention,” he sing-songs with a smirk. Kris rolls their eyes and kills him twice for his petty playing.
Third round means another win for Kris. They decide to go for the cheek.
His face is only slightly greasy, which is a big surprise given the amount of acne spots dotted across his cheeks. They cup his left cheek and gently turn him towards the right, feeling how warm the skin is under their fingers. Berdly seems to stop breathing as they lean in, body rigid, and Kris wonders what he’s thinking of at this moment. Is he anticipating this as much as Kris is? Is he happy he keeps losing? Is he sad ? Why did he suggest this in the first place? Was he planning this? Is this what he wanted all along? Why ?
They gently press their lips to his right cheek and suddenly all the thoughts in their head blank. His skin is soft and his peach fuzz tickles their face. He smells like cedar and Axe Body Spray; somehow, it’s a good combination. They pull away after what feels like a year has passed, noticing the near-perfect kiss mark left behind.
The butterflies expand to their entire upper body. They feel lightheaded and weak-kneed.
Berdly stares in awe.
“Your face is sweaty.” Kris blurts out. The tension snaps as Berdly tenses up, looking back to the game.
“I-I--Shut up!!!” His voice cracks three times on that one--Jesus. Kris laughs under their breath as the next round starts up, feeling a new kind of emotion mix with all the others: pride .
The next few rounds end in more kiss marks on Berdly’s face. Each mark gives Kris a strange thrill, feeling as if they have the world in their fingertips. They start playing faster. Looser. More dangerously. They purposely let Berdly get off a few kills before cleaning house, planting an extra sloppy kiss on his cheek as a kind of taunt. The kisses are no longer awkward fumbles of an enamored teen--they’re trophies . Delightfully earned and devilishly delivered. Kris doesn’t even bother switching cheeks , instead opting to paint the right side of Berdly’s face in cherry-red kisses.
Berdly changes, too. He gets more frustrated. More determined to win. He starts to actually memorize Kris’s playstyle, adjusting accordingly instead of sticking to his own way of playing. For the first time in their entire history of gaming together, Berdly gets better . He learns , instead of claiming to know everything and blaming his losses on glitches or hacks. The games start getting more intense, as Berdly picks up on Kris’s missteps.
The games get closer. The gap closes.
Kris doesn’t even realize it’s happening until it happens, and they can barely believe it when it does:
VICTORY: GAMERBERDOFFICIAL
“Holy sh--I won.” Berdly says incredulously. “I won!! I fucking won ! I beat you! I finally beat you!!” He actually gets up and does a little victory dance, knocking over his forgotten soda in the process (which he will still not notice until hours later) and singing a little victory song. Kris gapes at the television, feeling all of their ego deflate out of them like a whoopie cushion, as Berdly continues to cheer beside them.
“There were glitches,” Kris attempts to deflect the bitter chill of loss. “It--Your game is bugged. I would’ve won that on my console.” Berdly turns to them and points in their face.
“No no no no no. You don’t get to play that card back around on me, Kris. I won fair! And! Square!” He punctuates each exclamation by poking Kris gently on the nose, which they swat away. Berdly smiles wickedly at them as he jumps down to his seated position, patting his legs in a jovial fashion. Kris pouts for a few seconds more before giving up the ghost, turning to Berdly expectedly.
Silence. They’re just staring at each other. Kris’s face scrunches up in confusion as Berdly stares, a smile still plastered across his adorable face.
“Well, you won…” Kris states, dragging the sentence out so he might pick up the hint. He doesn’t. (Not surprising.) “So…are you gonna kiss me? Or…” Berdly freezes, almost as if he had forgotten all about his prize for winning, then comes to life in a flurry of jerky motions.
“R-Right! I, uh. Get to kiss you now! That’s what we agreed on!” He says as if Kris was the one who forgot. Kris nods their head slowly. Berdly continues to stall. “So now I can kiss you! Like you’ve been doing to me the whole night! Yes! I can do that now!”
“Do you…want to?” Kris asks as a sudden wave of self-doubt crashes over them. Berdly jumps like Kris’s words had punched him and fervently nods his head.
“N-- I mean I do! Yes! I do want to kiss you!” he clarifies, and then looks horrified at his own clarification. “I MEAN--Not that I want to kiss you kiss you, I--I do want to do that, but I just mean in terms of the bet I’m--I’m not backing out of my bet! But I don’t want to kiss you in the other --I MEAN--” Suddenly he claps a hand over his mouth, preventing any other words from escaping. Kris’s nerves die down, replaced by warm fondness as a laugh bubbles out from their lips. Berdly’s cheeks burn as they laugh quietly. “Don’t laugh!!” His voice carries on a whine, which makes Kris laugh harder.
“Sorry, sorry, I just--” they shake their head and quell any further laughs. “I understood what you meant, Berdly. Go ahead.” He carries on just a little bit longer before calming down. The silence returns, stronger than ever before, but Kris feels no obligation to fill it. They want to be patient for Berdly (who seems halfway caught between a heart attack and throwing up) like he was patient for them. They also maybe want to feel the pleasant warmth that Berdly staring at them brings.
Berdly moves out of his rigid position, then stops himself. His hand hovers in the air for a moment before returning to his chest. He seems conflicted.
“I can kiss you anywhere, right?” he asks quietly. Kris nods. “You’re sure about that?”
“Yeah, dude,” Kris replies gently. “We never set any restrictions, and I…I trust you.” The last part comes out mumbled, but Berdly hears it regardless. He stares for another moment, then moves again.
His hand cups Kris’s right cheek gently and their heart nearly stops. The contact is too much and not enough all at once. His hands are clammy and soft, kind of like his face. He gently strokes Kris’s cheek with his thumb--the butterflies in Kris’s chest turn to moths, as they desperately climb up their throat to chase the lightness in their head. He hesitantly leans in, eyes locked on their own, and Kris feels their breath catch in their throat. He inches in slowly--as if giving Kris the opportunity to push away--but Kris doesn’t move. They remain, watching as his lips get closer and closer to theirs, and finally let their eyes slip shut at the last second.
Berdly’s horrendously-chapped lips touch their own, and fireworks go off in their belly.
Berdly is hesitant and inexperienced, simply pressing his lips to Kris’s, but it’s enough to kickstart Kris’s heart tenfold. They lean in a bit more to return the kiss, surprising the other somewhat as he almost pulls away in surprise. But he doesn’t, keeping his lips firmly pressed against theirs as they reach up to cover the hand on their cheek. Slowly but surely, Berdly warms up to the kiss, moving along with Kris as they guide him into something more comfortable. His nose presses into their face somewhat and they wouldn’t have it any other way. They kiss and kiss and kiss, stringing small kisses together with short gasps of breath, until the space between them loses all air and Kris pulls back a bit farther to suck in more air. Berdly chases their lips instinctively before he catches himself, opening his eyes as he leans back. The two stare at each other as they catch their breath--nearly matching in how flushed they both are.
Silence. This time, though, it’s to be expected. How can one say the words that action has said so clearly?
Kris can think of something.
“Now we have matching lipstick,” they point out. Berdly nearly misses it--still reeling--but eventually his eyes blow wide as he slaps both hands to his cheeks.
“Lipstick, I--How much lipstick is on me!?” He cries out, feverishly wiping both cheeks with his hands. Nothing moves (thank you liquid lipstick) as Kris laughs louder than ever, delighting in his pitiful whines. They move closer to him and throw their arms around his neck, silencing him with another kiss on the lips. He still jumps but is quicker to rebound, reaching up to grab their sweater sleeve as they both slowly fall backwards. It ends up breaking their kiss, but then they get to lay side-by-side and laugh, so was it really a loss?
They face each other and laugh for a while, letting out all the nervous energy that had been building up in both of them, before lapsing into comfortable silence. Kris studies Berdly’s face fondly, admiring this new angle. Berdly makes a bold move and wedges his arm under Kris’s head, supporting their neck as his hand lays gently on their shoulder. Kris takes that as an opportunity to scoot closer, curling into his embrace. They stare at each other with fond smiles.
“So, Kris, I have to ask…” Berdly barely brings his voice above a whisper to maintain the peaceful silence between them. “Why did you get me that gift?” Kris laughs.
“‘Cause I like you, dumbass.”
“Oh.” Berdly breathes out. He seems…relieved. (As if their previous actions hadn’t proved that already?) “W-Well, that’s good. Because I like you too.”
“I’d hope so,” Kris says playfully, earning themselves a punch to their arm. “Sorry, just teasin’. I’m glad you feel the same. It’d be, uh… really hard for me to pretend this never happened if you didn’t.” Now it’s Berdly’s turn to laugh.
“Yes, I’d have to agree. I don’t think we could ever be gaming rivals again if all I could think about was kissing you.” Somehow, it is the most Berdly response Kris could’ve asked for, and it’s exactly what they needed to end the night. They lean up and press another kiss to Berdly’s lips, surprised to see Berdly already learning how to reciprocate properly. With time, he’d be a pro, just like everything else. He just needs to let people help.
He just needs to let people in .
Kris will gladly be the first let in the door, if only it means opening the opportunity for more Christmases spent just like this.