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It started slow. Like a buildup in a horror movie, or like some dumb video games supposed plot twist. They don't know how it ended up this way, but it did. Kris watches Berdly through their bangs, tongue messing with their snakebites through their lips.
The bird sucked at this. How did he suck at this? Kris found it so simple, minecrap is played by children all around the world, but somehow, somehow he did. They were fighting the urge to push him away, to hiss at him for his stupid actions. They don't, though, their hands twitching. Instead, they give a raccoon-chitter laugh, "Dude, you fuckin' SUCK at this!" They exclaim, between exasperated gasps, reaching over as if they're going to yank the controller away. Berdly yelps, biting back with a "clearly you would never understand my genius, third place!" and yanks the controller away. His glasses are crooked, and his feathers are all puffed-up. Their hands twitch again. How would it feel if they combed their fingers through the plumes of feathers, what would Berdly say? How would he sound? They shake their head, shuffling closer and gesturing, a silent ‘give it here, dumbass,’ but of course, Berdly doesn’t concede.
Kris frowns, jumping at him and wrestling the controller out of his hands. “GIVE IT HERE!” Berdly screeches, as they fight each other for control, tumbling around. (It’s good that Toriel isn’t here, she tends to be a bit stern about the noise.) ‘Mine!’ Kris signs with their off-hand as they get the controller from the bird-brains wings and skitter away, stumbling on top of the highest thing they can find. Are they actually going to help? ANGEL, no. They bite at their lip, moving the stupidly blue character on screen towards a pool of glowing, burning lava. Berdly’s not far, he doesn’t even have iron! He’s been playing for an hour, and he’s passed like, 20 veins! So maybe, maybe they’re being a bit mean by throwing him in the lava. “KRIS!” He yelps out, wings flailing as he tries to jump at them and get his controller back. Kris stumbles at all of his persistence, but alas, they prevail, letting out a cackle. “Oh no! You died with absolutely nothing of value!” They exclaim, tossing the controller back into the bluebirds wings.
Berdly frowns—somehow, despite his beak—and drops the controller down to pounce at Kris. “You–mMMff– imbecile,” he settles on, Kris cackles at his refusal to swear, breath catching in their voice as the bird slams harder into them. They stumble at the force, collapsing onto the floor with a very not-so-pleased Berdly. “Good things take time,” Berdly bites out, eyebrows furrowed as he looms over Kris. It’s weird hearing the bluebird without his usual mask.
Their eyebrows shoot up, but, alas, there's no way the bird sees that under their mess of bangs. Then they snicker, which then turns into full blown laughter. Berdly fluffs up, wings fidgeting around before finding purchase, one gripping the side of Kris’ chin, squeezing their cheek in the process—and the other on the pillow beside them. Kris laughs more, it’s a welcome sound— almost. It’s rare for Berdly, of all monsters, to hear that genuine laugh. He tightens his grip on their face, on their STUPIDLY soft cheeks, grimacing. “Must you be so childish, Kristoff,” snarks Berdly, adjusting so he was firmly planted on the ground so that he could flick their forehead with his free wing. It’s stupid and oddly affectionate. Kris’ bangs fall out of their face, crimson eyes locked onto Berdly like a laser-beam, shitty smirk on their face. “Just admit you’re horrible at it, Worm-For-Brains~” they sing-song, face adjusting so it almost looks like they’re looking down on him. “I can do better.” Berdly growls. “I was just playing around.”
Kris sucks in a breath, yanking their cheek away in vain. “No, you can’t,” they draw out of their lips, breath oddly shaky. “Y’re just embarrassed that I’m so much better than you, could’ve beat the game by now,” their voice is almost a growl, now, body slightly shifting so that a hand can grip at Berdly’s wing. “But you’re too much of a wuss to admit it, hm? Ain’t that right, Berdly,” their voice is sultry, a deep tease. Their hand shifts up until it rests at the birds neck, and soon the situation is flipped. Kris’ hips land on Berdly’s middrift, effectively locking him in place.
They grab the controller from the stunned Berdly, thighs tightening around the avians waist as they begin to play. He watches upside down, eyebrows knitting together. He squawks under his breath at the sheer audacity of the number three, no, number seven of their class.
Alas, he can’t really help the blush that creeps up his neck and rests over his cheeks. Kris is strong, way stronger than they appear. And he doesn’t know what to think about that. They’re progressing quickly, far quicker than Berdly was—which he would NEVER admit—and it pisses him off. His wings find purchase just above their hips, thumb-feather hooked on the very top of their cargo pants. It sends a shiver down Kris’ spine, but it goes unnoticed by Berdly, because he doesn’t really acknowledge any of it. It was more a subconscious action than anything.
Soon, Kris is beating the game with Berdly watching in begrudged awe. And as the final particles of XP fall over the video-game character, he’s seething. It’s not fair, it’s like Kris is just effortlessly good at everything. He turns his face, because it’s true they’re better at most games, even if it’s because of cheating and their stupid wavedashing. Berdly shouldn’t be this bothered, he’s better in so many ways! In school, in having a job, in, in so much! Kris drops their eyes to look over him, relishing in the annoyed chirps the avian lets out under his breath.
He’s oddly…blue, well, he’s always blue. But it’s a deep blue, like the sea, of the way the sunset bleeds into night. Kris exhales, bringing a hand up and through their bangs to drag them out of their face. “Told y’so,” they murmur, finally recapturing Berdly’s attention. He grimaces, wings dropping from their hips—he’d just noticed they were there, blush deepening—as he hisses out a—“that was nothing. I could beat you in like, 5 minutes, tops!” Kris smiles mockingly and with their hair out of their face, Berdly can see just how oddly appealing their face is. It’s obviously not up to avian standards, and it’s nothing compared to Berdly's own strikingly handsome appearance. But there's something about it that draws his eyes to it. Maybe it’s the clusters of freckles over tan skin, or the smell of their lipbalm, its apple, it always is or maybe its..the piercings. Okay, that’s definitely a big part of it. His eyes linger on them, shifting to sit up slightly so he’s not flat on the ground. Then, a wing reaches up and tugs at their bottom lip, their breath hitching at the touch. He doesn’t have the brainspace to stop, though, thumb-feather sliding over their lip to feel the slight bump of the snake-bites. Their lips are soft, kinda chapped but also moist, in a way. He can feel Kris watching him, but he doesn’t really …mind? He’s curious, is all. If he wasn’t a liiiittle high he’d probably be freaking out. His wing-digit explores further, feather lightly pressing into their mouth. They’ve turned ridiculously red, at this point. It tickles, just a little, they think. They inhale, then give a slight bite on Berdly’s feather. He slides it out, resting back on his elbows. Kris is hallucinating, they decide, because why was that smooth??? It was Berdly. Their hands slide down to cup his waist, fingertips finding their way under his shirt.
Now, it was Berdly’s turn to give a sharp intake of breath. “Careful,” he mumbles, turning his face away and reaching off to the side to grab the steadily dying blunt and taking a short hit. This was a side of Berdly only Kris ever saw, they introduced him to weed, afterall. They found it helped a lot, with his masking, and everything. He gets more bold. They like it. He puffs out the smoke, lifting the blunt up to Kris’ lips so that they can take a hit of their own. They gladly accept, sucking it in and slowly exhaling it as Berdly drops the blunt back to the ashtray.
“I like you like this,” they chitter, hand sliding up under his shirt. “Y’re chill, ‘n stop with all the masking,” Kris mumbles, earning an embarrassed chirp from the bird. “That’s how Marijuana works, Kristina,” he huffs. But it’s definitely true, he’s much calmer like this. They smile, grabbing the blunt again. “Wanna shotgun it?” They ask, easing the blunt to their lips to take a short drag. “Why would we be using a weapon whilst smoking the erm.. Devils Lettuce,” Berdly squacks.
Kris cackles. “That’s right, y’re still new to all this,” their body shakes a little with their laughter and Berdly rolls his eyes. “You, uh, take a hit and exhale the smoke into each other's mouth, basically. I saw Dess and Asriel do it once, obviously they didn’t know I was there, but-” they exhale. “Wanna try?” Now, normally, Berdly would immediately refuse, and his feathers would puff up like he’s just taken a bath and blow-dried. But he’s mildly high, and, well, color him intrigued. “Why not,” he mumbles, grabbing the blunt and taking a hit of his own and exhaling for composure, before returning it to Kris. They smile, taking a drag before leaning down and tilting their head. Their breath ghosts over Berdly’s beak, which opens just a little as Kris blows the smoke into Berdly’s mouth. It’s almost a kiss, if they moved just a little, they could press their lips to his. Kris craves it, just a little, but they don’t give in.
They pull back, blowing out the excess smoke. “How was it?” they ask, watching Berdly. His face is scrunched up, and he’s almost a little purple in the cheeks. “Good, nice. Let me try,” he mumbles, shifting underneath Kris before bringing their hand that held the blunt to his lips and taking a drag, eyes holding Kris’ own. They hum as they drop the blunt back to the ashtray, eyes lidding as Berdly brings a wing up to pull their head down. Then, he slides it down and to their lips, prodding at them until they open up, and he leans in. He blows the smoke into Kris’ mouth, watching the way their eyes lid. He can’t stop himself from tilting his head and pressing a kiss to those soft lips, pulling back as smoke billows out from between their mouths. “How was it for you?” He questions, leaning back on his elbows once more. They shudder, dragging a hand through their hair. “Mm, nice,” they mumble, hand finding its way to Berdly’s jaw. “Can see why Dess ‘n Asriel liked doin’ it.”
A smile finds its way onto Berdly’s beak and a quiet, goofy little chuckle falls from him. It’s almost like a rope is dragging Kris to him, leaning closer as Berdly laughs. “Can we, um, try that..without the smoke?” Berdly freezes up a little, but gives a curt not, wings finding their way to Kris’ hips. “I’d like that,” he mumbles, eyes lidding as Kris shuffles closer, tilting their head to press another, hesitant kiss to the avian’s beak. Thumb-digit sliding into the hem of Kris’ pants, he leans into it, pressing a little harder against their lips. The kiss is clumsy, but it’s.. so much. Kris’ head spins as the usually larger-than-life and frankly, embarrassing, teenager coaxes them into a deeper kiss. They feel themself trembling, pulling back and pressing their forehead to Berdly’s own, breath lingering in an almost too intimate way. “Y’like?” They question, hand rubbing against the feathers of Berdly’s cheeks. “Mm. Haven’t decided yet,” he murmurs, pulling them into another kiss.
Now, if Kris said ‘Oh yeah Berdly’s actually a pretty assertive kisser’, they’re certain Susie and Noelle would pelt them with rocks, because there's no way that’s true. But, it is. Maybe it’s the weed, or just him melting into it, but Berdly leads Kris in a way that makes their head spin. They find themself stuttering out a quiet moan as he urges their mouth open, deepening the kiss as he slides his tongue along their own. They’re using all of their brain to avoid exploding, trembling as the two finally pull away. “Yeah, I like,” the bird coos, rubbing circles into Kris’ hips. They can feel the smoke puffing out of their ears, face a stark red before they squeak out a “YEAH! Me too!” A little too loudly, but Berdly gives a hearty laugh.
Their hand slides up, finding its way into a clumsy hand-hold with Berdly's wing. Gosh, they’d never noticed how small their hands were compared to the wings that their friend had, stuttering out a shaky breath. Kris squeezes their hands together, leaning down for another kiss. They’re fully trembling now, relishing in the feeling of Berdly easily sliding the control out of their palms and grasping it close in his wings. God, they crave more, hands finding their way under Berdly’s shirt—then to his waist. It’s so stupidly thin, they hate it. Hate how they wanna hold it in their palms forever, keep it from everyone else, but they resist, and deepen the kiss. Kris doesn’t get to relish in the feeling because, alas, they need to breathe.
Berdly feels soft, they'd learned. He feels like he preens constantly, but somehow, somehow, not overdone? They can't make sense of it. He's warm too, not like Susie or Noelle's warm. It's... a unique type of warmth, one that trickles its way into Kris' chest and threatens to burn. They don't mind it. They prefer this feeling in their chest, really. They'd never admit it. Kris' eyes turn back to Berdly's face from their perch on his middrift. He's looking away, the usually sky-blue feathers of his dusted a darker, almost purplish tone. Almost subconsciously (almost.) their grip on his feathered hands tightens, then it's loose again. Kris sucks in a shaky breath, adjusting their position on the bluebird so they can, maybe, *maybe* go back to feeling a little normal. Their free hand glides over the smooth texture of his shirt, it's patterned, with the nice feeling of a painted design in the middle. They can't help but trace it, SOUL relishing in the feeling of his shudder, of the sound he makes. Angel, what's wrong with them?
Berdly slides his wings under their shirt, then urges them to slide it over their head. “Lemme see,” he mumbles, wing-digit grazing over their HATSUNE MIKU binder. Kris obliges, shrugging it off and tossing it to the side.
Berdly snickers. “Of course you chose Miku, don’t you know Teto is superior?” There’s that nerdy voice, Kris kinda missed it. Maybe a little? “Fits, though,” the bird smiles, “you’ve seen all the art, right?” They knew what he was referencing, all the …yuri. They cringe a little at the word, “Oookay, pretty bird, don’t get ahead of yourself now.” Kris wheezes out a laugh, leaning over to take another hit, then leaning down to shotgun kiss Berdly again. “Can’t lie, though,” they murmur as they pull away, smoke still billowing from their mouth. “I like this more than I should.” Berdly’s eyes crinkle in a cheeky smile, “Told you my charms were irresistable.” His voice is a soft whisper, eyes lidded (and tinted a little red, from the weed).
“Mm. Y’re turn,” they mumble, insistently tugging at Berdly’s cringy ass shirt. ‘Number One Gamer’, they scoff under their breath. As if! Luckily, he obliges, folding it and dropping it beside Kris’ own. “Prissy bastard,” they hiss. He smiles, of course, with that stupid beak of his. They want to kiss it. Or bite it? They’re not sure yet. Kris leans down, turning their bitey-ness to somewhere a little less keratin flavored. They sink their teeth down into his neck, not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave a mark. It’s oddly satisfying, being able to mark him without ever having to worry about anyone else seeing. He is covered in feathers, afterall. Nonetheless, they continue their treatment over the rest of his neck and maybe some of his chest too, hand reaching down to spread the feathers apart so that they can marvel at their work.
A proud grin grows on their face, “huzzah.” They deadpan. Berdly snickers, eyes turning up to the TV again. “You died,” he mumbles, wings sliding up to their waist. They can feel the shit-eating grin on his face as they glance up at the TV. “Huh. Guess I did,” they mumble, leaning down to press another kiss to Berdly. Kris, doesn’t seem to recall the time, or the fact that they were all going to have a sleepover. Susie has a key.
So, it shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was for Susie to walk in, her girlfriend in tow, and see Berdly kissing Kris. Berdly. “KRIS??” She yells, breaking the human out of their trance. “SUSIE!” They squeak, scrambling to get off of Berdly, who refuses to let them up. He’s high. He’s SO high. Noelle looks like she’s just seen someone commit a crime against her family, and also kinda like she’s going to faint? “You look like an apple,” the very high Berdly points out, and Kris shoves their face into their hands.
“Right, okay.” They mumble, waving at Susie and Noelle, who also just now noticed their shirts. Or lack thereof. “Woah. Err—are we interrupting?” Noelle squeaks. Berdly, who would usually be the most bothered, is completely unbothered, grabbing the blunt and taking another hit—blowing the smoke into Kris’ face. “Yeah.”
“NO-” Kris corrects. “You’re not, I just, um, lost track of time. Yeah.” They tug their shirt back on, sliding the sleeves up and gliding their hands over the raised scars. It’s grounding. ‘Sorry. Forgot about the um, sleepover,’ they sign. Berdly is too comfy to put his shirt back on right now, lazing around underneath Kris with controller somehow in wing-hand once more. He shuffles to a sit, laying his head on Kris’ shoulder as he maneuvers them so that he can face the TV and continue playing minecrap. They relax into it, gesturing for the girls to come over. ‘Controllers are on the table’, they point, watching the two awkwardly shuffle over and turn on the controllers to begin playing. Kris stays in their spot, yawning.
“So, uh. Are we gonna talk about this, or??” Kris glances over. “Berdly’s an assertive kisser,” they state, matter-of-fact. Noelle passes out.