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The blankets were warm. They weren’t going to protect Fern from whatever— or whoever —made their mark of banishment disappear, but for whatever reason, they felt a strange sense of calm. They couldn’t seem to focus on anything Arcade was saying, his voice was so comforting and mellow, he was the eye in the hurricane of everything, absent-mindedly tracing little swirls on Fern’s shoulder. It sent little goosebumps up Fern’s spine and wings in an oddly soothing way. Their racing heart slowed slightly as they nestled into the other boy’s side, feeling his voice vibrate from his chest.
Arcade was so willing to help them, and he really cared for them. What had they done to deserve such a wonderful person in their life? They picked anxiously at their thumb nail, cleaning the dirt from underneath it. Their brows furrowed, picking harder. What had they done? And who made their mark disappear? No humans other than Arcade knew about magic, and none of them possessed any magic, and definitely none that powerful. A tiny red bead of blood had formed just outside their thumbnail in the wake of a pulled hangnail, and Fern winced in pain, instinctively shoving their thumb into their mouth. Damn, it hurt.
It had dawned on them that Arcade had stopped speaking, and was instead looking at them with a look of slight concern gracing his features.
“Fern?” he asked. “Are you okay?”
Fern immediately pulled their thumb out of their mouth, examining the damage. It was superficial, despite a slight sting against the cold air. They nodded solemnly.
“Let me see,” Arcade said, pulling Fern's hand into the low light.
The wound continued its slow trickle of blood. Arcade frowned, then stood up and walked away to grab something. Despite the blankets still surrounding them, Fern was startlingly cold in their companion’s absence. They shivered slightly, wrapping the blankets more tightly around themself.
Arcade returned a few minutes later, two bandaids in hand. Carefully, he reinserted himself into the sentient pile of blankets that was now Fern. His body heat instantly seeped into the blankets, warming Fern to the core. They nuzzled up to him, basking in his warmth.
“Spider-man or Elsa?” he asked, fanning out the bandaids.
Fern was startled by the question, unaware that Arcade had come with offerings. They then stared in disgust at the offending body stickers. Who the hell were these people anyway? Gently, so as to not offend Arcade, they pushed his hand away and mumbled something about being fine. Arcade blinked, then sighed.
“Spider-man it is, then,” he smiled, carefully wrapping the faerie’s injured finger.
His hands were so soft. So gentle. Fern could hardly remember the last time someone had treated them with such tenderness and care. They flushed slightly when Arcade finished tending to their injury, covering their hand with his own.
“Thank you,” Fern said hesitantly.
“Your hands are cold,” Arcade hummed in response. “Let me warm them for you.”
“All of me is cold,” Fern lied.
Though it was endearing, Arcade had known that Fern had fibbed. Their ears went back slightly, and they were very focused on picking a spot of their cursed clothing. Arcade’s knowledge of the faerie’s deception held no hand in the outcome of the situation, however. Carefully, he released Fern’s iceblock hands from his own, then snaked his arm around their shoulders. With his other, still clutching the plush duvet, he wrapped the both of them into a deformed burrito of sorts, gently pressing Fern against his chest.
“Are you warm now?” he asked with a grin.
Fern responded by burying their face into the crook of Arcade’s neck. God, it was so warm. They could stay like that forever. Forget the curse, forget banishment, forget everything. Arcade was going to protect them. Sure, the blanket was useless and stupid, but the human— their human —was perfect. They were going to be okay.
Arcade’s fingers slowly began drawing elegant lines over the whole of Fern’s back, tracing their spine, lightly circling their wings. Fern sighed a long, long sigh of relief. It hadn’t occurred to them how stressed they had been the past few weeks, so antsy to break their curse and go back home. But now? Now they were cradled in a human boy’s arms feeling the safest they’d felt in far too long.
“Y’know,” Arcade said, interrupting the comfortable silence. “You don’t have to make excuses if you want to hug me. If you need a hug, just hug me.”
Fern blushed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” they huffed indignantly.
But they did know. They knew, and they wanted Arcade to know they knew. Slowly, they looped their arms underneath his until their arms were resting on the boy’s upper back, pulling themself closer to him. Arcade rested his chin on Fern’s buried head, then began slowly telling stories about his childhood. Fern tried desperately to listen, but Arcade’s soothing voice and gentle fingers slowly, ever so slowly, lulled them to sleep.
It had been a good 10 minutes before Arcade had heard Fern’s quiet, gentle snoring in his ear. It must have been exhausting constantly worrying about breaking a curse and desperately seeking a way home. He chuckled lightly to himself at their little snores, conscious not to wake them up. They stirred slightly, mumbling something somewhat resembling words.
“Fern?” Arcade whispered.
“Promise me…” they began. Their words were slightly muffled by Arcade’s shoulder.
“What?”
“Promise me you’ll stay forever,” they said groggily, hardly lucid enough to call awake.
A light blush tinted Arcade’s face at Fern’s question. Did they not want to go home? Why now? Without thinking, he covered his face with his hands dazedly.
Fern woke suddenly with the loss of weight and warmth on his back. They looked up at Arcade, eyebrows knitted in a tinge of worry. Carefully, they placed their hands on his cheeks. Or, at least where his cheeks were supposed to be, but his hands were in the way.
“Arcade?” they breathed.
Slowly, he lowered his hands. His face and ears were beet red.
“Did you mean it?” he asked tentatively.
Fern pinked, then:
“You didn't give me an answer. You first,” they huffed.
“I– but– um..” He sighed. Could he really promise that? Fern stared at them, desperately trying to keep the pleading look out of their eyes by covering it with a glare.
“Well?” they said impatiently. Their nose crinkled slightly as they screwed their face in annoyance. It was absolutely adorable.
Yes. He could make that promise. He would make that promise. Fern was the dearest person in his life aside from his own mother. There was no need for deliberation. He loved everything about Fern, and he desperately wanted to be around them, to be adored by them as he adored them.
“I promise,” Arcade said finally, holding Fern’s hand to his cheek. “Now tell me, did you mean it?”
Fern’s façade slipped.
“Yes,” they answered breathlessly, vulnerably. “Every word.”
They shivered. They didn't like being vulnerable. Vulnerable meant weak. Vulnerable meant powerless. Vulnerable meant being less than yourself. Yet, Fern didn’t feel like any of that. They felt raw and genuine. They felt like they could tell Arcade anything, and that he’d listen. As they sat there holding his face in their hands, Fern realized they felt for him a lot more than they should have. But it didn’t matter. Even if this boy that Fern adored was a human, he was Fern’s human. No one else’s. Theirs. And theirs alone.
Gently, they brushed their thumbs over Arcade’s cheeks, pulling him closer to themself.
“Please… stay,” they whispered.
Slowly, Fern lifted their head and brushed their lips across Arcade’s forehead. Both boys blushed and sat silent for a period, staring at each other. Fern’s thumbs were still stroking Arcade’s cheeks, though they were significantly warmer now. They were magnetized, drawn to each other’s lips and warm breath. They were mere centimeters apart, and Fern couldn’t help but feel like it was too far. They needed to close the space, to be closer to Arcade, and…
“Is it okay if I kiss you?” Arcade blurted out sheepishly.
Fern blinked. Then, they were desperately fighting back a laugh. The intensity in the air dimmed, and Fern had failed in their internal battle.
“Yes,” they giggled. “I was going to kiss you, but you decided to have good manners and ask first.”
Once again, Arcade had turned a deep shade of beet red. His cheeks, Fern noticed, were very warm. They giggled again before closing the space between the two of them and skimmed their lips over Arcade’s, sweet and tender as honey. They pulled away quietly, then nuzzled their face in Arcade’s chest, wrapping their arms around his torso. Arcade’s arms returned to Fern’s back, lazily skimming it over with his fingers.
That was how they stayed for hours or days, silently basking in each other’s comfort. Fern was safe, Arcade was assured, and all was well with the world for all they cared.