Work Text:
It’s Saturday night.
Berdly has just finished showering and changed into his pajamas—just a loose white T-shirt and black sweatpants. Since his parents won’t be back until next Thursday, the blue-haired boy decides to text his best friend—and self-proclaimed rival—Kris.
Berd: krrrriiiiiissssss
Berd: kriskriskriskriskris
Berd: Christopher Columbus
K: WHAAAAT
Berd: nothing, what’re you doing?
K: you texted me for that
Berd: yeah, I’m bored out of my mind
K: why??
Berd: my parents left for a work trip. I’m home alone until Thursday
K: …You’re alone right now??
Berd: yes??? that’s literally what I just said
K: wait a sec, my mom’s calling me
Berd: okok
A while later, the doorbell rings.
Berdly frowns, confused. He slowly opens the front door.
And there’s Kris.
With a small backpack.
And a grocery bag that very obviously contains snacks.
“…Kris. What the hell are you doing at my house?”
His hair is a mess—soft blue curls falling freely around his face. He hadn’t had time to straighten it. Not that he expected company. Definitely not Kris.
“…I didn’t know you had curls.”
The words leave Kris’s mouth before they can stop them.
Their cheeks flush immediately, and they look away as if the sidewalk suddenly became fascinating. They genuinely hadn’t known. Somehow, they’d never seen Berdly’s natural hair before.
It takes Berdly a few seconds to realize he forgot to straighten it.
And then he flushes too.
Kris is one of the very few people who’s ever seen him like this.
“Ah— y-yes. My, uh… hair…”
He twirls one curl nervously around his finger.
“That doesn’t matter right now. Get inside, it’s cold.”
He opens the door wider and grabs Kris’s hand, pulling them inside before locking the door behind them.
—
After rearranging the living room a bit to get comfortable, the two teenagers flop down onto the couch and fall into easy conversation.
“Hey… does Toriel know you’re here?” Berdly interrupts, slightly worried.
Kris has a habit of not informing their mother about… well. Anything.
“Obviously,” Kris replies calmly. “Remember when I said my mom called me? I asked if I could sleep over.”
“You asked before even checking with me?” Berdly laughs softly. “You invited yourself over. Not that I mind. I’m actually glad you came.”
He rests his arms on his knees and props his chin there, smiling warmly.
Kris’s heart stutters.
That smile is their biggest weakness.
Why does it feel like their heartbeat is speeding up?
“Changing the subject…” Berdly mutters, playing with his curls again. “Would you help me straighten my hair later? It’s kind of annoying to do alone.”
“Why?” Kris leans closer—close enough to touch his hair. “I think it looks better like this.”
Their fingers gently explore the soft blue curls.
Berdly startles at the proximity, blushing even more.
“Ah—! I mean— thank you, I suppose… Just don’t touch it too much. I just showered.” He gently grabs Kris’s wrist and moves their hand away.
“What if we define your curls instead?” Kris suggests. “I kinda know how. I’ve helped my mom with her waves before. It’s probably similar.”
Berdly pauses.
“…I like that idea. My mom has some products.”
He leads Kris to the bathroom—which is strangely large—and opens a drawer full of hair products.
Kris stares at it like they’ve discovered treasure.
“Woah… That’s a lot.”
“They’re all my mom’s,” Berdly says, sitting on the toilet lid. “She never lets me use them.”
“Why not?”
Silence.
Small. Heavy.
“…My parents don’t like my hair,” Berdly admits quietly. “Especially my dad. He says it’s not masculine.”
His voice cracks.
Kris freezes.
Why would someone dislike their own son’s hair?
Why does Berdly care so much about what his father thinks?
Kris doesn’t know much about Berdly’s family—but what they do know has always bothered them.
They turn around.
Berdly is looking away.
Is he crying?
It feels like someone just stabbed Kris in the stomach.
“Hey— I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” Kris blurts out awkwardly. “I didn’t know…”
“It’s fine,” Berdly says, wiping his eyes and forcing a smile. “I’m just being sensitive. Sorry for ruining the mo—”
He doesn’t finish.
Because suddenly—
Kris hugs him.
Berdly goes rigid.
Kris doesn’t like physical contact.
Kris doesn’t hug people.
And yet—
They’re holding him.
“I don’t like seeing you sad,” Kris murmurs. “It messes with me. I’m the one who should apologize. I’m an idiot. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
They stay like that.
Quiet.
Not uncomfortable.
Just warm.
After a few long minutes, they slowly pull apart.
“Better?” Kris asks.
“…Yeah. Thank you.”
This time, Berdly’s smile is real.
“So. Curl definition?”
“Yeah.”
—
After several tutorials, way too much product, and a lot of time—
They’re done.
“Woah…”
Berdly stares at his reflection.
His curls look perfect.
“See? I told you!” Kris grins proudly, having worked curl by curl.
For some reason, seeing Kris happy makes Berdly happy too.
Like it’s contagious.
Eventually, exhaustion creeps in.
Kris changes into their pajamas, and the two return to the living room. They curl up under a large blanket, watching a movie.
Kris notices Berdly getting sleepy.
So naturally, they decide to mess with him.
They reach for his hand and lace their fingers together.
Berdly jumps slightly.
“Berdly?” Kris asks playfully.
“Mm? What?” His voice is lower now. Sleepy.
Kris’s face turns red.
“N-nothing…”
Why is it suddenly so warm?
Without warning, Berdly gently grabs Kris’s jaw and turns their face toward him.
“I just realized,” he murmurs, studying them. “I’ve never really looked at your eyes. They’re such a unique color. And… pretty.”
Kris is bright red.
Words fail them completely.
Berdly laughs softly, brushing his thumb over Kris’s cheek.
“You look so stupid when you’re nervous.”
He leans closer.
“What do you want?” Kris whispers, retreating slightly.
“Nothing. Just teasing.”
“Just that?” Kris smirks now, catching on. “Don’t you want something more than just my patience?”
Berdly blinks.
“…Oh? And what could I possibly steal from you?”
He leans in further, unintentionally trapping Kris against the corner of the couch.
They’re close.
Too close.
“Well…” Kris says slowly, a bold smile forming. “You could steal a kiss. If that’s what you want.”
Berdly freezes.
A million thoughts race through his mind.
He pulls away abruptly, covering his mouth with his sleeve, face burning.
Kris only smirks.
“Who’s nervous now?”
They move closer—almost sitting in his lap.
“Ugh. You know what? Screw it.”
Berdly grabs Kris by the waist, pulls them close, cups their face—
And kisses them.
Kris stiffens in surprise.
Then melts into it.
Their arms wrap around Berdly’s shoulders, kissing him back with growing intensity.
Every so often, Berdly pulls back for air—only to dive in again.
Since when is he this good at this?
Kris’s hands slip under Berdly’s shirt, gripping his back.
A soft sound escapes Berdly’s lips.
It only encourages Kris more.
Eventually, they’re both out of breath. They pull apart, foreheads nearly touching.
Berdly looks flushed, lips parted, chest rising and falling.
Kris thinks he looks like an angel.
Since when was he this beautiful?
Once calmer, Berdly lies back, gently pulling Kris’s head against his chest.
They stay like that.
Warm.
Quiet.
“Ah. This is my favorite movie,” Berdly says softly.
The TV is playing La La Land (2016), directed by Damien Chazelle.
“Mm. I like it,” Kris murmurs. They don’t usually care for movies—but this one feels real. Painfully real.
“But… I’m sleepy.” They yawn and snuggle closer.
“Oh. Before you fall asleep…” Berdly swallows. “What… are we now?”
“What do you think we are?” Kris replies, kissing his cheek. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, love.”
Berdly is still nervous.
He doesn’t fully understand how they got here.
But he doesn’t regret it.
Not even a little.
“…Alright. Whatever you say.”
He wraps his arms around Kris and gently strokes their hair.
As they drift off to sleep, City of Stars plays softly in the background.