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Everything started with head pats. And because Arcade didn’t know what else he was supposed to do.
Of course, though, that day began as usual: with Arcade trying out all of his fantastic ideas to break Fern’s curse, even if it meant sacrificing a little bit of human blood to a cursed crown (or, what was the same, pricking his finger like an idiot.) But to be fair, neither of them knew what the crown wanted, so Arcade had gotten the sudden idea that maybe it was full of savage thoughts against humans, maybe it was bloodthirsty and called for revenge.
Or something… like that.
It was worth a try.
“Yeah, no,” Fern muttered after Arcade let out a pained cry from having hurt himself with the thorns, regretting all of his life decisions in the process.
The prince’s skeptical gaze highlighted even more the first important thing that happened that day: Arcade’s idea had failed. Which, sadly, wasn’t really surprising. They both had been failing in breaking the curse for weeks now.
What made the moment really remarkable happened after, when Arcade slumped on one of the cave’s mossy rocks and Fern sat down close to him. What made it remarkable was that Arcade’s idea hadn’t worked, and Fern didn’t seem annoyed at all. Granted, Fern never acted dejected when it came to the curse; it was more of a demoralizing nagging feeling that they wanted to shake off, an underlying impatience to get everything over with.
But that day, instead of looking exasperated for yet another dead end, instead of looking at least irritated because Arcade had tried a dumb idea… what Arcade saw from the corner of his eye was Fern taking a stick from the ground and distracting themselves with something on the dirt. As if they didn’t care as much anymore. As if that mishap wasn’t worth the effort of being annoyed or distressed, making them shrug it off and focus on something else entirely.
In the middle of his thought process, Arcade found himself sinking even more into the moss he was leaning on, almost like he was blissfully melting in the cushioned texture. And then, his mind wandered away towards that strange notion, because even Arcade knew that cave rocks weren’t supposed to be a pleasant place for his muscles to rest. They were rocks, for heaven’s sake. It made no sense for him to be all like “damn, this moss is pretty comfy.”
Then, Arcade caught a glimpse of flowers hanging from the cave’s ceiling vines, a string of soda tabs adding a little shine to it, both things adorning the cavern and making it look nice. And, considering that rocks’ natural state wasn’t soft, he concluded that Fern must’ve done something to them so they would be comfortable. He ended up wondering why Fern made all those decorations so suddenly, because now it was like someone could actually live there and not despise it.
It was evident that Fern had put thought into the redecoration, which was something that people did to their homes, not to a ‘temporary place to stay’. And then, after some incredible five seconds of reflections, Arcade went back to square one: Fern’s indifference towards the non-success of their plans. Fern’s efforts to transform the cave into somewhere pleasant to be in. How the two facts showed a kind of acceptance on Fern’s part, as if they had… resigned.
But, like, not ‘resigned’ in the sense of ‘leaving a job’. ‘Resigned’ in the sense of ‘what if Fern wasn’t trying to fight against the curse anymore because they believed they simply couldn’t beat it, so after an entire year of being lost they had embraced the fact that they would be trapped in the human realm forever; therefore, they had started to make arrangements for the cavern to be a suitable living place.’
Little did Arcade know that Fern wasn’t thinking like that at all. Fern had decorated the cave just because Arcade kept leaving early, because not even frogs liked to be in that measly place, and Fern had believed that, maybe, if everything looked nicer and prettier, Arcade would stay for longer.
Fern’s ulterior motives were as simple as that. They were tired of thinking, and Arcade served as a distraction, and it would be amazing if they managed to have more time with him. The practical benefits of Arcade’s presence were so many that Fern wouldn’t mind transforming their cave into a comfier place, somewhere worth spending time in, just to keep him by their side for a little longer.
Arcade’s company was better than being alone. It had nothing to do with giving up; nothing to do with any attachment to the human, or with the doodles of them both he was making on the dirt.
He preferred Arcade over the alternative. That was all.
Their totally-unmeaningful drawing of Nox was taking up all of their focus, so when Arcade straightened himself to call their attention, Fern startled. They tore their gaze away from the little drawings to look over at Arcade. And… they felt worried. Because he was staring at them with such a serious, determined expression that Fern had the impression he was about to reveal the biggest secret of the universe.
Instead, Arcade said, “Don’t ever give up.”
Hundreds of thoughts flooded Fern’s mind, but he didn’t have the chance to understand them properly, for immediately after, another eventful thing of the day happened: Arcade touched them. On purpose. Totally on his own accord.
Fern felt like losing their mind.
Arcade had placed his hand on their bare shoulder with a quick movement that almost made Fern dizzy. They felt the warmth of Arcade’s fingers seep into their skin, and their heart skipped a beat in shock. Suddenly, they realized that was the first time Arcade had made physical contact with them. It was the first time anyone at all had touched Fern since he got thrown into the human realm. Considering he was alone for months after getting cursed, it wasn’t really surprising.
Arcade’s arrival was the end of their solitude. However, it had been weeks since they met each other, and the two of them hadn’t actually touched (not for something different than handing over soda cans or fighting with the thorny crown, anyway.) They never even shared a handshake. And, after so long, Fern had forgotten how reassuring someone’s hand could feel.
So they welcomed Arcade’s touch right away. They liked it, they wanted more of it, and experiencing warmth after months of cold was addicting.
“We’ll do whatever it takes,” Arcade continued, and Fern realized they had been daydreaming for a full second. “I could try to use magic myself–”
“Arcade, I told you that was impossible.”
“That won’t stop me. I’ll invent my own magic!”
Arcade’s expression was glowing. His eyes were sparkling, his smile felt even warmer than the touch of his fingers, and he looked so determined that Fern couldn’t help but find it endearing. The prince found himself holding their laughter, trying to not cave into the dozens of light bubbles suddenly rising inside their chest, and decided to agree to Arcade’s random petition. At least, that gave them an excuse to touch him more.
They told Arcade to get off them, actively using the opportunity to push him. To place their own hand on Arcade’s shoulder, to feel a little of their friend’s warmth under their fingertips, even through his shirt and the mossy substance on their hand. Obviously, as physics worked, the shove impulsed Arcade farther away from Fern, though he was still close enough for them to keep their hand on his arm.
Then, they both started to laugh, wholeheartedly and genuinely. The sounds mingled and filled the cave with the effervescent energy that Fern felt every time they smiled together. Arcade never retreated from the fairy’s touch.
The third important event of the day was directly related to their play-fighting.
Fern felt happy and relaxed. He felt as if Arcade’s contact with their skin had recharged their whole body with bright, pleasant electricity; the static making Fern lean towards Arcade in kind of an instinctive movement. By the time Arcade said he needed to leave, the novelty of his touch hadn’t worn off quite yet, and Fern didn’t want it to end. They wished to stretch the moment as much as possible.
But they couldn’t tell Arcade that, mostly because they didn’t have a logical argument. ‘My heart becomes a small sun when you’re around’ wasn’t valid enough. Besides, Fern wasn’t about to go around saying that he didn’t consider Arcade’s company bothersome anymore. They had simpler, equally effective methods to get what they wanted.
“Arcade, I think I’ll go with you,” Fern stated before Arcade grabbed his backpack to leave. Arcade considered it as another thing that made that day cooler than usual, right next to the feeling of Fern’s flushed skin under his fingertips. He didn’t expect the prince to be so warm.
“Really?” he asked. His voice came off an octave higher than normal, but Arcade didn’t care. He stared while Fern walked towards the back of the cave and retrieved their cloak, moving their hand through the air dismissively.
“Only for a small part of the way,” Fern clarified, starting to put the piece of clothing on. Arcade nodded, maybe too eagerly, but Fern didn’t notice, focused on making clear that they were not walking him back. “I need to go foraging anyway, and I’ve noticed that the general direction I usually take happens to coincide with the first part of your route,” Fern added, shrugging nonchalantly.
“Yeah, okay,” Arcade answered, his tone upbeat, before rushing to put his backpack on.
Fern had never accepted any of his invitations to accompany him since the day they met each other, so he never even considered that Fern would be the one to offer it one day. Maybe they were starting to trust him and loosen up a little bit.
Arcade turned to them, smiling. “You ready, Fern?”
“Yep,” they answered, their mind still repeating that such an arrangement was practical, that he needed to go to the forest to find… something, probably stuff to eat that night, even when they’d already had some berries earlier.
But, of course, Fern couldn’t have nice things. Ever. Because come on, what was the chance for it to start raining the second Arcade took his first step towards the exit of the cave?
The sound of the water washed away all of Fern’s previous excitement to go outside. They pouted when Arcade asked what was wrong, their ears and wings going down, and answered that they hated getting wet. Arcade didn’t think Fern was aware of how their expression made them look like an angry kitten about to go on a rampage. Hadn’t it been for the frown on their face showing how genuinely upset they were, Arcade would’ve thought it was cute.
“Let’s wait it out, then,” he said. It took half a second for Fern to process what he meant, their mind catching up to the situation only when Arcade sat down at the edge of the cave. Fern stood there, looking at him almost in awe.
“But, don’t you have to go?”
Arcade simply answered: “Nah, don’t worry. It doesn’t look like it’ll last long.”
Fern blinked. Part of them was glad that Arcade wasn’t leaving. Part of them was grateful that Arcade had decided to wait, to keep them company during the rain, because (and he would never accept that in front of him) the storm slightly scared them. It always brought them bad memories, reminding them of how much they hated the human realm.
But… Arcade stayed. And the second Fern sat down next to him, listening to the pitter-patter of water drops around them, they felt at ease. It was such a strange feeling to have during their least favorite weather that they quickly realized this was another eventful thing worth remembering: how Arcade, right next to them, was giving them a sense of peace and safety Fern thought was long lost.
The whole situation felt just right.
Arcade was warm. Arcade irradiated warmth. Arcade was the warmth. There was no other way to describe it. He was strangely comforting (for a human, of course), and Fern was already missing his voice, always wholehearted, always soft. So, they did the only reasonable thing to do: they got him to talk.
“Arcade, I want to know more about the human world,” he said, perking up the human’s attention immediately. When Arcade’s eyes brightened up, Fern discovered that his gaze also felt like the sun.
“You do? I mean, uh– what do you wanna know?” Arcade responded, trying (partially failing) to hide his enthusiasm. Fern had never asked anything about the human realm before. They always appeared uninterested and distant, which was to be expected, considering that it wasn’t their home. But Arcade didn’t mind the new topic. It added up to the pile of cool little things that made that day special.
Fern asked about the flying things in the sky. Arcade explained airplanes the best that he could. Fern said something about the non-flying mothfolk, and questioned how humans made sure that people didn’t fall off, and Arcade said that people didn’t really fall off, and everything was going okay. Everything was going great, everything was going so well that Arcade couldn’t pinpoint, exactly, where things deviated.
Maybe he had pushed his luck too far with wanting to know more about Fern. Maybe it was the mention of their family. Maybe it had something to do with the way Fern turned their head away the moment Arcade asked about the royal heir, hiding their face from Arcade’s sight. But it was evident that their mood had plummeted, so he tried to comfort them by leaning in, by saying that they didn’t have to worry, that he’d get them home soon enough…
“Arcade, tell me more about your human machines.”
Oh–
Arcade paused for half a second, mildly confused at the sudden change of topic. However, the prince didn’t look at him nor said anything else, and, well– Arcade needed to do something before the silence took over. Luckily for him, Fern’s request was something he could actually do, and all his previous attempts to say stuff hadn’t worked, so… obliging seemed like the next most logical option.
“Uh, okay!” he agreed, then, and started to talk.
But Fern had already tuned out all the noise. Their mind was reeling with the abrupt realization that if Arcade kept asking about their past, if Arcade kept helping them, then it would mean that he wasn’t going to give up. And if Arcade didn’t give up, then Fern would have to tell him the truth, or else it wouldn’t be fair for him. And if he decided that Fern wasn’t worth the effort after all, then– Hell , the thought was too terrifying to think about in-depth, yet distracting enough to hoard all their focus.
“... and I have a ton of those video games, too! My room is full of fun stuff like that. I even have a lava lamp that I think you’d like because, you know, it glows in the dark!” Arcade was saying, rambling about whatever he could think of. He took a hand to his chin, thoughtful. “I wonder if you could go to my dorm, though… Do you think it would be too dangerous?”
No answer.
“Hey, Fern?”
Only then, when he finally turned to Fern after who knows how long, Arcade realized that his friend’s mind was elsewhere. There was an underlying distress on their expression that made them look utterly lost, and… Arcade was running out of options. He didn’t know how else he was supposed to comfort them. Maybe hugging them could work, as his very last resort… although he didn’t think their relationship was close enough for him to do so.
Fern’s gaze was cast downwards. His hands were starting to tighten their grip on his knees. The sound of the rain wasn’t as soothing anymore, and the storm was roaring in his ears almost as loud as their thoughts. Fern was so immersed in those sensations that it took them a second more than necessary to register Arcade’s hand on their head. Once again, the sudden touch shocked them, and Fern froze.
Arcade had the fleeting idea that he had made a mistake. That trying to tousle Fern’s hair was pushing his luck a step too close to a cliff, that it was too soon for that type of physical contact, that Fern was about to pull away and kick him out of their cave. But before he could take his arm away and profusely apologize, he felt Fern relax under his touch in the slightest of movements. It was still enough to warm up his heart.
“Hey,” he started, almost in a whisper. Fern was suddenly hyper aware of the weight of Arcade’s hand on their head, their muddled mind processing everything with a second of delay. “I know this curse thing really sucks, and I know it’s been a long time, but… I want you to remember that I’ll be here for you. To help you out as much as I can.”
Fern didn’t say anything. Arcade wasn’t sure if his choice of words had been appropriate, he didn’t even know if he was doing any good. However, he still found himself ruffling Fern’s hair (carefully, to not hurt himself with their thorned crown), trying to show them that his words were genuine. And then… his thoughts deviated to how incredibly soft the strands were under his fingers. To how the fuck such a feeling was possible considering that Fern had been living in the forest for almost a year.
Fern didn’t pull away. Electricity flowed through their body all over again; the same one that lit their heart on fire when Arcade touched their shoulder earlier. The brush of Arcade’s fingertips on their head was reassuring and comforting in ways that Fern couldn’t even start to comprehend. They let themselves revel in the feeling, closing their eyes to memorize every second of it, not wanting it to end, not even sure if they would ever have it again.
Fern recoiled in place a little more. Arcade turned his head to look at them, scared that maybe the prince was about to push him away, but instead, his breath caught in his throat at the view. At how peaceful Fern’s expression was, calmer than Arcade had ever seen before. Fern looked content and undisturbed, almost as if they felt safe next to Arcade , as if they trusted him enough to let him get closer and closer every day.
Needless to say, Arcade became addicted to the idea very fast.
“You’re not alone anymore, Fern,” Arcade added. The prince remained silent, only moving to tilt their head towards Arcade’s touch a little bit, the action causing Arcade to smile. His heart resembled a small bonfire now. “I promise.”
He kept petting their hair for what felt like hours, reveling in the subtle way Fern scooted closer to him until their knees were touching. Arcade wanted so badly to ask them what type of shampoo they used for their hair to be that soft (were there hair products in the forest? was it part of the curse?), but he didn’t dare ruin the moment. He just stayed with Fern until the rain stopped; he stayed even longer than that, enjoying their presence as well.
And so, that eventful day marked a before and an after for them. When Arcade finally said he needed to go, the sky getting too dark for him to see without magical moth eyes, Fern still accompanied him… to go foraging, like he said he would. And only for a part of the way, of course, even when they separated dangerously close to the road outside of the woods. However, before Fern could leave to do their own business, Arcade ruffled their hair again as a goodbye. Fern’s heart skipped a beat.
It became a tradition in the blink of an eye, Arcade starting to pat their head every chance he could. His greetings, his congratulations, his words of reassurance when something went wrong, and even his smiles were now accompanied by those affectionate touches that… in hindsight, were too small and casual to brighten up Fern’s chest with hundreds of magical lights. Yet, that still happened. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, but truth was (and Fern could be damned) that the feeling was the softest they had ever experienced in their life.
The sensation was so amazing that Fern constantly looked forward to it; to Arcade ruffling their hair, keeping his hand in their head long enough to warm them up, wanting the touch to last all day every day. And all those things weren’t even the good part. Incredible enough, there was something better, something that made Fern’s breath catch in their throat and their heartbeat speed up: Arcade’s gaze.
The way he looked at them sometimes, probably not even realizing how his eyes sparkled under the sun, his face softening as if he was staring at the prettiest flower to ever bloom. As if he was staring at something worth staring at, which, honestly… meant the world to Fern. It had been a year since the last time Fern considered themselves valuable enough to have someone look at them.
Back in Frenatae, being beautiful was the only good thing they had. The only thing they could feel proud of (besides being a royal heir), considering they had no friends, no magic, nothing that people genuinely liked. Except for his appearance. He had been lucky enough to look pretty, so he started to care about it more than anything else in the universe. And when the curse took that from them… they were left empty. Devoid of the one characteristic that made their existence relevant, without taking into account that they were the future emperor.
But Arcade had seen them when they were nothing, when they were a nobody lost in a realm full of people who didn’t even know of their existence. Arcade had stayed anyway. Arcade had decided to comfort them as if they were deserving of it, his touch so delicate it could be cherishing Fern’s awful, green hair, even while decorated with a thorny crown. Cherishing something of themselves that Fern hated so much he wished it could disappear. Cherishing Fern, as a whole.
The prince had several reasons to regularly crave that feeling. They knew it was only logical to reach out for it.
But what about Arcade? What the hell were supposed to be his reasons? Because, even if Fern was letting him pat their head anytime he wanted, even if Fern was not complaining in the slightest, it still didn’t make sense. Why would Arcade want to do it, anyway? Why did he look so mesmerized every time he started ruffling their hair? Fern figured it had something to do with the texture of it, maybe. The fact that Arcade had never touched a fairy before, and the novelty hadn’t worn off yet. But he still didn’t understand what the big deal was.
He’d love to know, though, the reason for Arcade to look so eager and happy every time his hands found their way to Fern’s head. Besides, if Arcade was allowed to play with their hair constantly, Fern concluded that he wouldn’t mind if they did the same in return. Just once, at least; just to finally discover what was so incredible about being in the giving end of a head pat, and not the receiving one.
By the time a week or so had passed since that eventful day, they had already set their mind to it.
Arcade’s daily visits gave them the perfect chance to return him the favor. When he arrived one evening (after giving Fern a ‘hello’ head pat like it was the most natural thing to do), they both settled down outside of the cave, sitting near the creek and leaning their backs on a tree. Fern made sure to accommodate themselves at less than an arm’s length from Arcade, so it wouldn’t be a problem for them to stretch their hand out and… pet the human’s head… he supposed.
Fern didn’t allow himself to dwell on how weird that statement sounded in their head.
“What about music?” Arcade asked, looking at the bunch of ideas he had listed on the back of his biology notebook. “Do you think we could control your crown with songs or something? Like that snake charming thing. Maybe we can convince it to leave you alone?” Arcade considered the viability of that plan. “Hm... I don’t have an instrument, though. I could ask around for one, but I have zero musical talent, so I feel compelled to warn you about it right now, heh…” He giggled to himself, a little nervously. “On the bright side, if my music is bad enough, maybe your crown would get scared away–”
Arcade paused mid-sentence. The air around him changed suddenly due to something that his mind hadn’t processed yet. Slowly, he turned his head to look at Fern, and his eyes stumbled with the prince’s serious expression and focused frown. They had their arm stretched out and their gaze fixed somewhere above Arcade’s eyes. When he finally understood what the hell had just happened, he tried to keep the confusion out of his face, to limited avail.
Fern had placed their hand on his head while he was talking. More specifically, Fern had tried to ruffle his hair. (Keyword: ‘tried’. They stopped the movement the second they noticed Arcade’s hair wasn’t budging under their fingers’ pressure). Arcade blinked in response, still pretty much shocked because Fern had initiated physical contact with no previous warning; because their expression made them look like they were in the middle of a very important mission that they couldn’t fail.
And it was cute.
“Fern?” Arcade muttered, his words struggling to concatenate into something coherent, yet only capable of pronouncing the fairy’s name correctly. Fern’s gaze finally went down, locking with Arcade’s, and they stared at each other for a solid full second before Fern took their hand away, dropping their eyes.
Arcade felt as if his heart had just started beating again, his cheeks warming up the slightest bit. Now, what on the earth had been that? Fern was looking at him with such intensity he felt like getting lost in the forest at night, and they had been close enough for Arcade to notice a ghost of freckles decorating their face, so faint it was only visible when there was a minimum distance between them. Barely for a second, Arcade found himself wishing for Fern to be up close again so he could count the freckles on their cheeks.
“Why is your hair so stiff?” Fern asked, snapping Arcade out of his thoughts. The prince was staring at him again, serious, sitting very still. They were acting as if nothing had happened. As if their actions hadn’t been transcendental at all, as if they actively trying to touch Arcade wasn’t the event of the century.
And… that was how Fern should feel, Arcade supposed. There was no reason for him to make such a big deal about Fern trying to touch his hair… not really. There was nothing to celebrate considering that Fern’s fingers had barely stayed on his head for two seconds before retreating again, probably because the texture of Arcade’s hair gel was worse than what they’d expected, making the nudge really awkward.
Arcade willed the disappointment off his chest, not even wondering where it had come from, and focused again on Fern’s expectant expression.
Right. He was asked a question.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” he mumbled, taking his hand to his own hair mindlessly, and the feeling of gel that had never bothered him before suddenly became sticky and a tad too unbending for his liking. Arcade wished that Fern hadn’t hated it. He didn’t like the prospect of the prince never wanting to try and touch his hair again. “Well, I gel my hair every morning. To make it look… good, I think. I like the hairstyle, you know? It makes the blue stand out… y’know?”
Fern squinted in his hair’s direction for barely a second, almost as if waging a war against it, but his eyes softened again when they looked back at Arcade. “I see,” they answered, their voice low. Arcade didn’t disregard the way Fern leaned towards him next, making their shoulders touch. “What were you saying about music?”
The next day, Arcade pretended he forgot to put his gel on.
Best idea he’d ever had.
That afternoon, Fern was sorting out some berries, separating them from the twigs and leaves he sometimes picked up by accident. But, after a year of doing that, the task had become automatic, so it didn’t distract him from how upset he was.
Once again, luck had proven to hate him. Because Fern just wanted to see what was so cool about head pats. Because he had actually tried to ruffle Arcade’s hair just to look like a fool afterwards, for his stupid hair gel thwarted their attempt. And now that they didn’t have the surprise element on their side anymore, they couldn’t just try again out of the blue without asking; and even if they did, Arcade would still have that dumb thing on, so it wouldn’t make a difference.
“Stupid hairdressing human practices,” Fern muttered under his breath, mostly because there was no frog to talk to at that time, so he was left alone to grumble about his thoughts. He pushed some small leaves aside, piling up his berries on the other side of the table. “Stupid, stupid head pats. Stupid nice feelings I get from them.”
“Fern, you here?”
The berry he was holding slipped from his grasp at the sudden disturbance, and he would’ve been annoyed if it wasn’t because his mind had already gone high speed, repeating everything he had been mumbling about. He tried to determine if it had been loud enough for Arcade to hear even while at the entrance of the cave. They knew that nothing they’d said had been terrible to admit, but… the idea of Arcade knowing that he enjoyed his touches so damn much made him feel a little too flustered.
They really hoped Arcade hadn’t heard a word.
“Yeah, right here,” Fern said, managing a tone of voice that didn’t betray their embarrassment. When they turned to Arcade, they were ready to play it cool, to pretend they hadn’t been thinking about touching his hair since the day before. However, their entire mind halted to a stop when they saw Arcade’s appearance.
They froze in place, struggling to process what they were seeing. Something on their expression must’ve been really scrutinizing because Arcade moved a little in place, gripping his backpack’s straps to keep his hands still. “What?” he said, and Fern wanted to scream at him because he’d had the audacity to ask.
They pointed at Arcade’s head, ignoring how fuzzy their chest felt, how much their heart had accelerated. “What happened to your hair? It doesn’t look…” Fern trailed off, not even knowing what to say. ‘Normal’? That came off as rude, and it wasn’t as if it looked bad. It was just… different, they supposed. In the absolute best of ways.
“Oh,” Arcade mumbled, attempting to get used to the intensity of Fern’s gaze. The prince knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it; not when Arcade’s hair was down in a way they had never seen before, the blue strands intermingling with his black locks. And it looked soft. Fern didn’t know that was possible. “Yeah, that… right. Well… I was, uh… late. To class. So I forgot to put gel on this morning.”
Arcade hoped his voice had sounded convincing enough for Fern not to question it. He didn’t know if he could keep up the lie considering that the prince was analyzing him in such a way. His own fingers were itching to run through his hair (a stressed and nervous habit Arcade had) but he didn’t dare to touch it for a reason he couldn’t really pinpoint. He just stood there, waiting for Fern to do something, to say something.
“Does it look bad?” he asked, trying to fill the silence between them. Fern consciously had to stop himself from shaking his head in the strongest negative they’d ever given in their life. Instead, they shrugged, encouraging enough to not look disinterested, yet able to hide the way his thoughts were spinning.
Arcade didn’t have hair gel on. That already meant a new chance for Fern to give him head pats without having to explain; tons of new excuses for them to come up with. Besides, the sight of Arcade with his hair down was new, and exhilarating, and the human did not have the right to look that good without his trademark hairstyle. It was making Fern want to ruffle his hair just because, with no logical reason to give if someone were to ask.
But for the first time in a while, Fern didn’t mind.
“It’s okay,” they said, walking up to Arcade with confidence, already with a plan in mind. Arcade didn’t move when Fern stretched their hand towards his hair, the prince’s expression a mask of nonchalance. “But not a great idea if you have to go inside of a forest. Ten minutes in and you’re already a mess of foliage, Arcade.”
By the time realization washed over Arcade’s face, Fern’s hands were already on his head, the fairy’s entire focus placed on that task and that task only. Their fingers found themselves enveloped in the soft texture of their friend’s hair, the sensation totally different to the mossy substance that covered Fern’s skin, and the change alone made their chest feel warm and sparkly, like the flame of a candle. Arcade’s slightly blushed, taken aback expression was simply a plus.
“Let me just…” Fern muttered, trying to not get caught up in the feeling too much. They didn’t want to stand there for hours, petting Arcade’s head aimlessly like an idiot.
Very carefully, as if attempting to not startle Arcade away, Fern began picking at the leaves that were stuck in his hair. (He did have some, just… not as many as Fern had implied.) Arcade remained perfectly still while Fern did that, their touch so delicate it reminded him of when he was little, of how lovingly his mom used to fix his hair back then.
Arcade also pondered about his life decisions.
Truth was, his sole reason for not putting gel on was wanting to know what Fern would think about it. He’d hoped that, somehow, it kept them from looking slightly dejected if they happened to try and touch his hair again, and if they happened to fail again because of the gel. Beyond that, he didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t even know if Fern would actually attempt a head pat again, but… damn, this was already better than anything he could’ve wished for.
Fern’s movements stopped. The weight of their hand flattened Arcade’s hair even more, and he held his breath in anticipation, not daring to move an inch. The two of them stayed there for only half a second more before Fern started to ruffle Arcade’s hair, slowly, as if testing the texture. The warmth from Fern’s fingers seemed to be seeping into Arcade’s cheeks, making his face flush, and the way Fern leaned into his personal space had his heart somersaulting. Arcade never thought Fern could be so… caring. That new side of them was causing nice things to happen on his stomach.
Fern was full-on running their fingers through Arcade’s hair now, enjoying how intimate the moment felt, their chest constricting and expanding at the same time. At one given moment, Fern’s fingertips brushed against Arcade’s temple, and he tilted his head towards Fern’s touch almost unconsciously. The fairy most definitely lost their mind. Whatever they were feeling was too powerful to fit inside their body, their skin tingled like hundreds of small sparkles, and Fern wished he didn’t have to lose that sensation, he wished he could play with Arcade’s hair forever…
“Is there really that many leaves on my hair?”
Shit.
Fern pulled their hand away, forcing themselves to not panic, because they couldn’t panic, because, shit, they had gotten caught up in the feeling so badly they didn’t even notice. Their fingers twitched slightly, immediately missing the warmth, so they crossed their arms to keep themselves from touching Arcade’s hair again. Fern was really lucky that Arcade was so damn dense, his question sounding genuine and not accusatory at all. They could play it off. They definitely could pretend they weren’t daydreaming about his friend’s hair.
“You’re all better now,” Fern mumbled in response, proud of himself for not having stuttered. However, the cave flooded with a million stars when Arcade smiled, and their resolve was just a step away from cracking again.
“Thank you, Fern,” he said, his tone of voice barely containing his happiness. Under the dim sunlight of the cave, Fern noticed that Arcade’s brown eyes sparkled, resembling chocolate mixed with melted gold. They averted their gaze to keep their face from furiously blushing.
“Anytime. It wasn’t super bothersome, anyway.” Fern paused, struggling to calm themselves down, to listen beyond their own heartbeat pounding in their ears. They still couldn’t help the way their body swayed to the side even while standing, almost as if trying to push him towards Arcade more and more. “And, uhm, just for the record… you don’t look terrible without hair gel.”
Fern’s eyes were glued to a random rock at their feet, so they couldn’t see Arcade’s hand coming for them. But they didn’t startle at the touch. Instead, when Arcade ruffled their hair, not even minding the crown; when his fingers got immediately lost in their green hair locks and his face adopted the softest expression Fern had ever seen… they felt themselves slump into his hand. They also ignored their mind, now wondering ‘ what the fuck is going on with my feelings?’
“Thanks, Fern,” Arcade repeated, his voice almost as light as the afternoon breeze. The prince didn’t move, and their only answer was a sluggish hum that caused Arcade to giggle. “Hey, I don’t mind if we stay like this all day, I promise. But I got some new ideas during History today!” he said, enthusiastically. He never stopped playing with Fern’s hair. “Wanna try them out?”