Maybe Fern should’ve waited until the actual morning for this. But they were a fanciful creature, and thought that this felt far sweeter. Not to mention the sleepy eyes and heavy voice were adorable on Jayden as violet eyes blinked open to look at them with confusion.[break][break]

“I said, it’s Christmas.” They repeated, fingers still carding through the other’s hair. Their other arm was propped under their head as Fern watched them, smile stretching wider.[break][break]

“Also, someone told me it was your birthday today.” Thank mint frost for that important little nugget of information. “So more than that, happy birthday.”

Scooting closer, they pressed a lazy kiss to his lips, though Fern themself was still buzzing with energy. Lowlight seeped into the bedroom from down the hall—a remnant of the lights they’d hung earlier. They pushed up to sit, blankets pooling down to their waist as they twisted reach for the bedside drawer.[break][break]

“I got you something, okay? And I know there’s gonna be like, all sorts of things to do later. So I wanted to give this to you now, while it’s just us. In case, you know, people visit or whatever.” It was a social holiday, and as much as they’d like, there was no guarantee they’d be able to hog jayden cross all to themself.[break][break]

They weren’t able to get it quite right, but they did their best with it in the limited time they had now that their schedule had grown significantly busier. Plus, the Pokémon inside the ball had proven amicable. They had practiced together and everything.[break][break]

Once the other seemed alert enough, Fern pulled a pokeball from the drawer—a cherish ball, more specifically. Then, as an unexpected flutter of nerves burst in their stomach, they presented it to Jayden, held out in the flat of their palm.

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] jayden cross | m: festive flirts……[break]

For a moment, they consider letting the moment be– it is sweet to see him wake from peaceful slumber, after all. He stirs slow and lazy, something more peaceful in his movements than Fern is accustomed to seeing in the other’s waking moments.[break][break]

So of course they have to indulge him a bit longer than they initially intend, warmth filtering through them as he folds to them with ease. Their tongue swiping into his mouth briefly, and leaning against the touch of his hand before they drift away. “Mhm. Birthday.”[break][break]

But their excitement ultimately gets the better of them and they can’t help but hold the gift out and wait with a near bounce to their posture as their fingers curl in the blanket and the flapple flutters out. It flits around the room, likely looking for their own flapple who they’ve acquainted it with. Eventually, it flutters back and settles on the edge of the bed–watching curiously.[break][break]

“I tried really hard to find an applin,” they say hastily, even as they note the width of his smile and their own begins to creep wider. “So this is a symbolic applin, okay?” They pause then, both hands reaching to find his. “Wait- you remember what Galar’s old tale about applin is, yes?”[break][break]

Even if he doesn’t, and the brightness in the violet of his eyes is purely because of delight over the flapple itself, Fern feels thrilled to have evoked that look. All on their own.[break][break]

Still, Fern chose the flapple very specifically.[break][break]

“You’re welcome. Happy birthday, Michail.” One hand raises and slides across his face, then slips through his hair. Brushing it back with care, heart still in their throat even then.

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] jayden cross | m: festive flirts……[break]

t’s a wonder they were able to find out that it was his birthday. At first, it almost stung that he didn’t go out of his way to say as much, but Fern has slowly, slowly begun to accept that even with them, he holds some cards close to his chest.[break][break]

And trying to pry them loose will get them nowhere.[break][break]

An amused scoff follows the groggy comment, and they lean forward to smooth a hand through his hair again. “It all worked out in the end though, no?”[break][break]

Distraction comes in the form of Jayden’s confusion. Fern, however, brightens—always a lover and collector of odd little stories and traditions.[break][break]

“Oh, so you never heard about it?” It’s probably just a silly thing— an out of date old wives tale. But he remembers the phase in his youth when all of his peers were desperate to find one, and then gift it in turn.[break][break]

They’ve never given one away, though. Personally.[break][break]

Fern can feel the warmth in his face where their palm is pressed to skin, and they smile as that hand slides away to beckon the flapple. In spite of themself, their own face heats with color and there is a twist of nerves that kicks up in their stomach.[break][break]

The little flapple lands delicately on their open hand, tail curling up around their arm for stability. “Like we practiced?” they ask it, and it quickly snaps itself together— pulling its sour apple shell together to at least somewhat resemble its pre-evolved stage.[break][break]

“An applin, when given to someone you care for, is meant to bring good fortune, and…longevity,” they explain carefully, almost awkwardly as a nervous laugh slips free.[break][break]

Their smile still stretches a tough wider, though, as they look back up at Jayden, finding that glint of violet in the lowlight. “Simply put- It’s a love token, Michail.”[break][break]

Whether the tale itself is true or not, the symbolism is the same.

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] jayden cross | m: festive flirts……[break]

They are about to ask if it was perhaps too much. A step too far. But before they can even speak the worry into existence, they fall silent as he speaks. Then pulls them in.[break][break]

Fern, of course, does little to resist. Why would they ever want to?[break][break]

“Oh, hello there,” they barely manage to tease before the heat of his mouth is finding theirs. Their arms slip up to hang heavy around his neck as they drop backward against the bed again, dragging him down along with.[break][break]

Breath hitches in their throat and despite the depth of the kiss, they find themself smiling against his lips. It comes with the sort of happiness they don’t find just anywhere.[break][break]

It’s only found here, with him.[break][break]

It makes Fern want to say all sorts of things. Make all sorts of promises. Instead, they mutter his name. Breathe it out with the air pulled from their lungs. They let their hands wander—slipping through the strands of his hair. Trailing down the lines of his shoulders and spine.[break][break]

Anything to convey the fact that they understand what he means without a word. And that they meet him in response openly, in welcome of whatever he gives.


[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] jayden cross | m: festive flirts……[break]

Bit by bit, Fern thinks that they are managing. Peeling away the defensive layers to find the truer, lonelier parts of Jayden that they seek to soothe and tend to whenever they are offered the chance. It’s well met–they receive that given tenderness willingly. They’ll take whatever he has to give, whenever he gives it.[break][break]

Every kiss, every movement, every touch elicits a shiver under their skin. Soft, pleased sound muffled against his mouth as hands wander over them, downward. Fueling their own excited affection.[break][break]

And then he speaks.[break][break]

I don’t deserve you.[break][break]

They retreat slightly, frowning as they look up at him. A soft huff follows before Fern rolls them in a quick maneuver. Leaving them to stare down at him as they straddle his hips.[break][break]

“Don’t,” they rasp back. Almost furiously. “Don’t say that.” Bright blue glints in the lowlight as they hold his gaze. Their bottom lip almost wobbles before they bite down on it.[break][break]

“You are deserving of every single thing I give you. Every part that I have to offer.”[break][break]

Fern leans close, biting on other words that they could probably say with ease if they allowed themself to. Instead they dip in to travel the slope of his neck. Desperate to prove that they mean this.

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] jayden cross | m: festive flirts……[break]

Jayden mutters their name, and Fern can feel the flare it kicks off in their chest. The desire to do more ramping up as they nip at his neck, his clavicle. Fingers slide up into his hair, tugging lightly though it’s unneeded. He exposes his neck to them freely. Offering up that vulnerability .[break][break]

And then they make what they believe is a misstep.[break][break]

“Mischa,” it slips out before they can bite down on it. Murmured against his skin, it lacks any of the teasing smugness that had been used the first time Fern had uttered the diminutive.[break][break]

Instead, now it is only full of desire, affection. Full and wholehearted adoration for the person beneath them.[break][break]

Even so, though, Fern stills as soon as they register what it is they’ve said. It isn’t fear that freezes them in place, but something guilty and immediately frantic to make amends for something should not have let slip.[break][break]

“I-“ They lift up, if only to look at him—eyes glinting with worry. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…to.”[break][break]

Their voice is still raspy with want despite that, because of pulling themself so abruptly from their trailing.

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] jayden cross | m: festive flirts……[break]