Work Text:
It was a cold, winter evening when Archen of the Expedition Society returned from a rather gruelling jaunt to the northern reaches of the Mist Continent. He’d been sent to assess the geology there as a rather tremendous earthquake had rocked some of the settlements nearby – leading to him shivering his poor feathers off as he hopped off Lapras and back into Lively Town’s port.
All he could think about was a warm hearth and his cosy bed. He’d be hopeful for a meal too but Swirlix had broken those dreams more times than he could count and his feathered legs were too exhausted to chase the serial snacker. Just climbing the steps to the town left him absolutely knackered.
He wasn’t surprised to see the familiar orange pelt of his colleague waiting by the front door though. Buizel’s eyes alighted with relief, a small smile playing across his muzzle as he pushed himself off of the wall to greet his friend. “You look exhausted,” He called out, reaching out and wrapping an arm around Archen’s shoulder, though a sudden chill went up his spine. “J-Jeez, you’re freezing Archen.”
“I-I’m fine, it’s just Lapras dumping me right in the coldest part of the Mist Continent,” He grumbled with his usual voice, but leaning into the Buizel’s warm touch.
They entered the Society as quickly as Archen’s poor talons would allow, the bird allowing himself a moment of respite. The water-type was careful in his movements, making sure his friend wouldn’t trip over himself – and the flying type felt a warmth blossoming in his chest.
Ever since the defeat of Dark Matter, Buizel had taken it upon himself to check in on Archen more often. At first it was just a few conversations at breakfast, checking up on each other’s briefings for the day. Then it became the two of them walking down to the docks together to see the other off on their expeditions.
And recently, Buizel had made it a priority to be the first person to greet him whenever he arrived back to Lively Town. Though the fossil pokemon still found it a bit confusing – After all, Buizel wasn’t doing any of this for the other members of the Society. It was nice though, to feel appreciated.
“You eaten anything?” Buizel asked, already leading them in the direction of the mess hall, but Archen pulled away with a grumble. “Archen?”
“I’m fine, I’m just… too tired to go eat,” He admitted, giving his friend a weary smile. “I already sent the reports to Dedenne while I was riding back on Lapras so I’m just…” He longingly glances over at the bedrooms. “...Gonna hit the hay.”
Before Buizel could protest, Archen shook him off and quickly retreated to the dormitories, not noticing the look of worry cross his friend’s face. In Archen’s mind, he just wanted his warm nest and to curl up near the torch in their shared dorm.
“Seriously?” Buizel muttered quietly at the bird’s feathers as they rounded the corner to the dorms. “...He needs to eat something.”
The weasel’s mind was made up the moment Archen escaped. He turned tails and made for the Mess Hall, where Swirlix was already preparing for her big moment – to consume as many leftovers as she could find. The only others in the hall were Mawile, though she was poring over a tome while chewing on a half eaten Oran berry, and their rookie recruits who weren’t so rookie any more.
It had been a long time since the Dark Matter incident, with the human-turned-Mudkip and the Mew-turned-Treecko who saved the world, having evolved into a Marshtomp and a Grovyle respectively. And it seemed the water-type was annoyed.
“You can’t just rush ahead in dungeons, Ozzy, you almost got us knocked out today,” The Marshtomp chastised.
“But we’re stronger now, Ewan,” The Grovyle pouted, leaning back in his chair to look at his partner. “Like… We’ve made so many connections, and we didn’t get knocked out thanks to my leaf blades.”
The Marshtomp rolled his eyes so far they penetrated his skull, but the slight grin he cracked proved he wasn’t actually mad. “...They were pretty cool, I’ll give you that.”
“Hehe, you can’t stay mad at me for long,” Ozzy smirked, though the moment he noticed their new arrival, his attention shifted immediately. “Buizel! How’d your mission go today?”
The Buizel merely shrugged, offering a, “It was good,” before grabbing a pawful of berries and a small plate. He didn’t want to stay too long – he had a friend to take care of, but Ozzy’s eyes were boring into him with express interest.
“It was good?” Ozzy repeated back questioningly. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Buizel responded with a wink, a plate of berries now in paw.
“HEY!” Swirlix snapped, rounding the table to glare at Buizel menacingly. “You already had your fill.”
“They’re for Archen,” Buizel countered, lowering himself into a fighting stance. He’d take the chef down if he had to – It wouldn’t be the first time they’d fought over the table scraps. “Unless you want him to starve?”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Swirlix asked, taking a step towards him. “I bet you’re lying so you can snack on all those wonderful berries I slaved over the stove to roast.”
This was going to get ugly.
“Actually, Archen did just get back,” Mawile called from the table across from them, glancing up from her tome.
“And you did eat most of our food the other night, Swirlix,” The Marshtomp spoke up. “Ozzy & I had to go on a restock run for supplies because you had to have a midnight snack.”
“Ampharos helped!” Swirlix whined.
“And Ampharos pays our bills,” Buizel retorted, already taking a few steps back. “And with that, I’m out.”
“B-Buizel!” Swirlix’s voice raged from the Mess Hall as he slipped out the doorway, destination clear as day.
Meanwhile, Archen had stumbled into their dormitory, immediately combeelining over to a small torch that was lit in the corner of the room. Though he was surprised to notice his nest was already pressed up beside the heater – he definitely hadn’t left it there that morning.
But he wasn’t complaining, slipping off his satchel and lowering himself into a comfortable resting position. The warmth was already chasing away the frozen sensation of the day’s events – down to his very bones.
“I could get used to this...” He muttered to himself. A few more minutes and he’d fall into blissful sleep. He closed his eyes, ready to surrender to slumber when-
Clatter.
He opened an eye, taking in a small plate of berries that had been placed directly in front of his bed. And the orange otter who stood above the food, paws folded together as he looked down at his tired roommate. “Buizel?”
“Eat.” It wasn’t a recommendation.
“Huh?” Archen blearily blinked his eyes open, looking down at the berries, then up at the otter. His nose picked up the delicious scent of roasted Oran berries and his stomach responded with a low growl.
Only to squawk in surprise when he felt a berry press against his beak as Buizel leaned down and practically shoved one of the delicious delights into his mouth. He tried to squeak out a response, but instead ended up chewing and swallowing the food so he wouldn’t choke.
“What in Arceus’s name was that for?” He finally asked.
“I’m making sure you eat, you silly bird,” Buizel responded, already reaching for another berry. “You can’t sleep on an empty stomach.”
“I-I can feed myse-” Another berry was forced into his beak, his roommate looking satisfied with his handiwork as he forced the fossil Pokemon to swallow the meal. “F-Fine, I’ll eat, I’ll eat!”
At that insistence, the other man sat back and watched as Archen began to devour the food. What started as a few brief chews turned into a flurry of beak and teeth as Swirlix’s best berries were devoured in an instant.
Plate cleared, he leaned back against the hay, humming in content. “...Okay, maybe I needed that.”
“You should listen to me more often,” Buizel teased.
“Is the world ending again? Me listening to the hot-shot of the Society who constantly tries to fight people stronger than him?” Archen let out a chuckle at the thought, his wings unfurling as he fell backwards into the bed.
“Hmph, someone’s got to take care of you when you overwork yourself,” The other man scoffed.
“Now you’re sounding like the Chief when Mawile’s up too late working,” Archen responded snarkily, eyes closed but still listening.
He doesn’t hear a reply, the room falling silent save for the crackling of the fire. For a moment, he wonders if Buizel had somehow sneaked out without the bird realizing, until he hears the sound of movement. When he cracks open an eye, Buizel’s bed is right beside his, next to the fire, and the weasel is staring directly at him.
“You’re still cold,” He states.
“The fire’s helping,” Archen responds.
Their voices are soft. It’s not the first time they’ve spoken like this before sleeping. Though there’s something about the way Buizel’s looking at him – examining him, that has him just barely on edge.
“You’re shivering though, Arch,” Buizel points out, frowning.
“Oh.” That didn’t seem right. He was by the fire, but then he felt it. The trembles at the tips of his feathers. A cold that had settled a little deeper than the heat could reach. And Buizel watched him with a shifting expression that landed on concern.
“...I can help.”
“How? A blanket?” Archen asked back, rolling over to face the fire. Behind him, he could hear Buizel moving, probably to grab him a blanket from the storage space nearby. So he couldn’t help but let out a shocked squeak when he felt a pair of arms wrap around him, as he felt warmth press up against his back. “B-Buizel?”
“You said I’m a hot-shot. I’ll share my heat with you,” His roommate replied, softly speaking into the feathers atop Archen’s head. With his size, he was completely curled up around the bird, holding the colder man against his chest fur.
“Y-You don’t have t-”
“I want to.”
As much as Archen didn’t want to admit it, Buizel’s presence was just what he needed. The shivering subsided and the rise and fall of the other Pokemon’s breathing was lulling him. A part of his mind wanted to argue, to tell Buizel he really didn’t need to worry so much over some shivers, but he was too tired to voice it.
But eventually he let go. Rolled back over to his side of the bed, whispered a good night and turned in.
Archen felt the residual heat from the embrace – no more cold. Instead replaced by an empty feeling. A yearning to tell Buizel to come back, just for a few more minutes. Just so he could enjoy that moment of peace for just a little longer. But he couldn’t say it – He couldn’t be a burden on his best friend.
And that’s how he fell asleep.
Buizel felt numb. He’d made the move, changed their dynamic for a moment, dared to push the boundaries. And yet he couldn’t stick to it, pulling back at the last moment. He wanted to scoop the bird up in his arms again and hold him close, tell him he’d always keep him warm.
But deep down, he knew Archen didn’t share those feelings. Saw him as a colleague, a roommate, a friend. Nothing more. And yet Buizel kept yearning, hoping for the day he’d have the courage to ask Archen if they wanted to be partners.
This wasn’t that day.