[attr="class","body"]

His feet skid on the slippery surface thanks to his kingdra’s efforts, but it was supposed topple this other guy, not him!! He catches himself at the last moment, arms shooting out to either side, to resettle his balance. “Oop! Close call~” Lir pokes his head up out of the water and Fern gives the sea dragon a wink—the go signal! In time with another backward bump into the older man, Lir uses brine to crash against the floatie, tipping the weight and attempting to tilt it so that Fern’s end goes up while the other goes down to pull his momentum backward. “My dad, or my daddy?” They shoot a look back over their shoulder, and childishly stick their tongue out at him.

[break][break]

[attr="class","milkycredit"] [attr="class","fas fa-cookie-bite"]

[attr="class","body"]

[attr="class","star1"]

[attr="class","star2"] The effort to keep his stare off of Girard for too long was immense. It was an oddly difficult thing to be faced with, now that it was presented to him in the form of an office visit. Fern was perfectly happy with how his personal life was now, there was no reason to overlook it. But it was strange, the way he hadn’t realized that a lack of closure between them would make old aches resonate all over again.[break][break]

Bittersweet and tinged in what if.[break][break]

“Forthright as ever, I see,” Fern murmured, a milder smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It’s followed by a low whistle, speculative and short. “That’s a big ask, G.” He didn’t mean for the old endearment to slip loose, but his tongue betrayed him.

Betrayed the degree of regard he still held for his old beau, come hell or high water.

And it was because of that regard that Fern didn’t immediately wave the concept away. He let it turn over in his mind a moment longer. He did need the help, whether he cared to admit as much or not. And even before he himself had been a part of Rocket’s ranks, he still recalled Girard’s work in Galar. A subtle awareness and curiosity that had pushed him forward when the offer fell in his lap once he’d reached Hoenn.

“Of course you have,” Fern conceded, “but again, I’m not sure I can turn over the whole operation under my purview to–”[break][break]

Something in Fern’s expression sobered up as a wink was leveled at him, though. Elbow perched on the top of his desk, Fern tilted his head with a come on now, sort of cadence as he pointed at Girard. Albeit somewhat playfully. “None of that. You’re completely shameless.”
[break][break]

---

@girard // m: recruitment act i (repeat)   

[attr="class","star3"][attr="class","rouxcredit"]♠

[attr="class","star1"]

[attr="class","star2"]
“Oh, is it?” Fern stifled another yawn by pressing it against the curve of the other’s neck. “I was more tired than I realized. Iced tea will do.”[break][break]

He certainly wasn’t about to complain about provisions made for him. His arms relinquished their grip, if only to stretch out in front of him much like a meowth after a nap in the sun. The mention of scones made him perk. “Blueberry?”[break][break]

A kiss was pressed against the line of Girard’s jaw before Fern pushed himself up reluctantly. Joints still popping and cracking as his limbs woke up from slumber. “You treat me well, G.” Muttered affectionately before they shuffled over to the kitchenette to pilfer the scones.[break][break]

It was decidedly nice, having him there more often. Though Fern was also the sort to value his independence, the softer, more idealistic part of him found comfort in waking up to find someone waiting for him. It was a silly, fluttery feeling. One he wasn’t sure that Girard experienced in the same way, but that he indulged all the same.[break][break]

Secretly, to himself.[break][break]

Returning to the couch, Fern curled up alongside the older man. Knees pulled up to his chest and saucer plate precariously balanced there, he tucked strands of dark hair behind an ear and then proceeded to pick apart the scone to eat in smaller bites.[break][break]

“Work, if you’ll believe it.” He nudged Girard’s thigh with one foot in mock offense. “Full documentation mock up, over there.”


[break][break]

---

@girard

[attr="class","star3"][attr="class","rouxcredit"]♠

[attr="class","body"]

[attr="class","body"]

[attr="class","star1"]

[attr="class","star2"]

In a beat, jayden cross is there, fretting over them. Fern sighs quietly where they lean against the doorframe. "I am fine, I just wanted to see what the hold up was about." Despite their protests, though, they do not pull away - allowing him to fuss and look them over. They maybe enjoy it, even.[break][break]

They peer over his shoulder, while he's at it, to fix pale eyes on mint frost. "Yes, we can definitely do that. But I'm glad you are here now. I think I might go mad." They hate being stuck at home, in bed.[break][break]

It feels like they might start crawling up the walls like something unhinged if they're left to it much longer.[break][break]

"If I have any of those, it would be news to me," they add as they shift to lean against their partner instead of the wooden frame, eyes still tracking Mint's movements. A crooked smirk tugs at their mouth. "Not that it would be surprising. I'm still a catch."

It's sarcasm, of course. Down an ear, with a mottling of bruises and a healing nose, they know they look like warmed over roadkill at present. Not that they'll allow it to stop their quest for levity.[break][break]

"Over in that cabinet." They point to one under the counter in their kitchen space.

[break][break]

---

jayden cross mint frost // m: post-postdorm (repeat)[break]

[attr="class","star3"][attr="class","rouxcredit"]♠

[attr="class","body"]

“Ha! I’m not a kid,” Fern shot back, huffing as he twisted around so that he’d was back to his opponent too. “But okay, boomer. Hope you can handle it.” At the cue of a whistle, Fern shoves back as well—hip jutting with what he hopes is a bit more oompf for an advantage over Mr. Senior Citizen.[break][break]
Lir rises up out of the water as he circles the float, regal head held high as he swims through motions of a RAIN DANCE. The cloud spreads above them, the patter of rain slicking up the plastic material underfoot. So long as Fern can hold his footing, it should work out pretty well in his favor.[break][break]
It’s all about being nimble, right?

[break][break]

[attr="class","milkycredit"] [attr="class","fas fa-cookie-bite"]

[attr="class","star1"]

[attr="class","star2"] jayden cross insists that he is fine, but it still takes a moment for Fern to let out a breath. It was one they’d apparently been holding, mortified that it had even happened. “Alright, alright. I believe you. I just…don’t know how to deal with all this. I knocked out Marza Volchitsa’s power last night.”[break][break]

They smile at him. Sheepish and embarrassed.[break][break]

“Uh, well, yesterday, I suppose.” They frown, brows still knit together as they look across the room at the tapu koko who now watches them back. It does a little dance, pleased with them that they’ve handed the shard over.[break][break]

Feeling affectionate, it flits over and twirls around them. Just like the day prior, it picks and prods with the ends of their hair, but the gesture seems to be more familiar than the last. Fern figures, though, that it’s only a matter of time before it grows irritable again.[break][break]

Its moods are like this–an uneasy wind that changes direction quickly.[break][break]

“I was on assignment in Lesser Megalopolis. I had that shard, and it seemed…compelled by it? I’m not sure why. Or why it was even there. But it wanted to leave.”[break][break]

With me, they add silently, to themself. Because they’re not quite sure how they feel about that yet, exactly.[break][break]

“Wherever this one is from, it’s not theirs.” The collective ‘theirs’ being the leagues, naturally. “Its colors are wrong, according to Cillian Quinn, and Calpurnia Kubrick.”

[break][break]

---

jayden cross // tapu hours // recent past[break]

[attr="class","star3"][attr="class","rouxcredit"]♠

[attr="class","body"]

[attr="class","star1"]

[attr="class","star2"]

They can blame their conflict all they like, but Fern’s knows they should only blame themself for how badly it turned out. If they had just left it alone, maybe they’d only be nursing some superficial wounds.[break][break]

“But it’s true,” they protest, though it’s weak and petulant. Like a frustrated child insisting they’re not tired when they’re very clearly falling asleep. They want to wallow in their self-pity and self-disdain, but obviously jayden cross is not going to hear a word of it. They stuff it all away, fully intending to mull over it all silently when they have the quiet moment for it.[break][break]

And given how long recovery will likely take given how terribly they feel, they think they’ll have ample time for such an activity.[break][break]

The other’s lips are warm against their skin, which feels too cold. Cold, they realize. They feel practically frigid, laying her. A reactionary shiver is suppressed as thoughts of the elite four member who reduced them to this fades from mind.[break][break]

A part of them feels greedy for the attention they are being given. The other part feels guilty, because they don’t miss the flicker of pain that passes through Jayden’s face. They are not the only one who was hurt in the fighting. They are not the only who has aches and pains to recover from.[break][break]

But how can they not beg him to stay?[break][break]

A whimper wants to crawl up their throat as he reassures them, but it’s smothered before it can slip free. But maybe their vision blurs a bit as he climbs up alongside them and settles in. At once, the erratic jump of their anxiety settles as they shift and curl into him. A shaky breath follows, as their eyes close. “Very good.”

[break][break]

---

jayden cross // m: post-postdorm [break]

[attr="class","star3"][attr="class","rouxcredit"]♠

[attr="class","body"] Settling into a strangely whimsical day to day is something that Fern takes to with more ease than they’d care to admit. If anything, it’s perhaps because they think that any moment now, they’ll be pulled away from this.[break][break]

But the days continue, night falls, and the sun rises. Cyclical and incessant.[break][break]

Jayden is often busy with…royal sorts of things, so they find ways to bide their time. Chiefly, with plants. It’s funny to think they’ve wound up doing exactly as their da did. Like father, like son, in the end after all. So it is in the garden that Felix finds them, taking stock of what is growing well, and what isn’t.[break][break]

Initially, he is given no more than a cursory side glance, blue eyes flitting upward over the top of their glasses at the hello, then back down to the notes they are jotting down. “Hello, Felix.” They conclude their notes, pencil scratching against paper until they tuck it away behind their good ear.[break][break]

If they were to be frank, Felix is not quite Fern’s cup of tea, either. But he is trusted and dear to jayden cross, so he is tolerated. Teased, even. But Fern has long since stopped attempting to endear themself to him. It simply does not work.[break][break]

And they are not too interested these days in futile efforts.[break][break]

Their journal snaps shut, the cord used to tether it slowly wound up around its width as Fern looks up at Felix on his steed. A flattened expression meets a similarly impassive one.[break][break]

“A stellar conversationalist as ever, I see,” Fern remarks plainly in response before pushing themself up to their feet. “Is there a reason you’re here, or..?”[break][break]

[attr="class","milkycredit"] [attr="class","fas fa-cookie-bite"]