Chapter Text
Kris sat idly at the lunch table, cheek resting on their hand as they listened to Berdly's whistling. He'd been doing that a lot lately - sure, he was a bird, but all of his yapping tended to fall on the verbal side, so seeing him exhibit that particular side of his biology so strongly was always a little surprising.
Maybe it was because spring was just around the corner. He always did get more chirpy then, substituting annoyed grumbles with what almost sounded like a chirrup, trilling when he was pleased with something, and they'd even caught him singing quietly in the early mornings when he walked to school, unaware someone was listening. The few times they were up at the same time as him, that was.
They'd be lying if they said they weren't the least bit curious about what any of it meant. They didn't live with avian monsters, and the bluebird was the only one they were remotely close to, so they didn't have a lot of knowledge on that kind of behavior. They'd often wondered about it, though, just like they did other monster traits.
At the very least, they could infer his whistling was something positive, seeing as he was happily tapping away on his game console while ignoring the way Susie and Noelle were practically feeding each other their respective meals (which Kris was also attempting to ignore). He was playing Critterkit, most likely. That was one of the games he played the most on his handheld
He sounded kind of nice. Calming, in a way, like birdsong in the early morning. A familiar itch in their brain urged them to mimic him - it seemed fun to try. They waited for the tune to loop, paying close attention to the note progression, before mimicking it alongside him the next time it restarted.
They barely got three seconds into the song before the whistling cut off abruptly with a squawk that was echoed by the unmistakable sound of the bluebird choking on his own spit.
Kris watched, bewildered, as Berdly fought to control his wild coughing while also trying to get a good hold on the console that had nearly slipped from his grasp, juggling it between both wings like a one-man game of hot potato. After what felt like decades, he finally stopped his frenzied movements, feathers fluffed erratically, eyeing Kris with an expression of shock and even pure horror… while also blushing furiously??
“The fuck?” Susie voiced eloquently, brows furrowed.
Berdly made a series of unspecified noises while gesturing wildly in the general direction of Kris now that his handheld was safely placed on the table.
“Wh- Y-” he sputtered before raising his voice in a flustered screech. “Do you have any idea what you've just said to me???”
They tilted their head, raising an eyebrow at him. Truthfully, they didn't. They could not fathom the concept of having fucked up their mimicry so badly it'd come out as something completely different.
Berdly just groaned, slipping his wings under his glasses to bury his face in them. Seeing how the dark blue of his magic had just kept spreading further and further along his face (before he hid it behind his wings, of course), Kris felt their own face grow hot. What the hell could they have said to him??
“Y-you-” he hissed, strained and deeply chagrined, before forcing out an awkward chuckle and changing to a smoother, faker tone of voice. “Kris- Kristopher, dearest rival, do you really… h-have no clue?”
The human shook their head, now growing a lot more annoyed. Why couldn't he just man up and spit it out?
Berdly laughed awkwardly once again, made even more ridiculous by the voice crack that accompanied it. He ran his index feather through his beak three times before he spoke.
“You- W-well, this is quite the conundrum for the both of us…” he stammered nervously, looking anywhere but at them. “I see you were, er… trying to copy my singing. But I fear the call you've actually mimicked was a lot more… so to speak… flirtatious. I-I'm sure you can fill in the blanks.”
Kris stared at him blankly, almost actually hearing the creaking of gears turning in their head, until-
…
Oh.
Their body blazed with the heat of embarrassment once their brain caught up, their SOUL trying its best to make sure their cardiac rhythm was so irregular they seriously worried something was medically wrong with them. They needed to die. They legitimately just needed to leave this plane of existence because did they seriously just mimic the avian equivalent of a fucking mating call back at Berdly????? BERDLY?????
The surface of their body felt so hot it hurt. How in the world was it that two tunes that sounded nearly identical meant completely different things?! Avian chirping language couldn't be that hyperspecific! Could it?? Berdly certainly looked like he was serious, with that ridiculous blush and those stupid poofy feathers that he was frantically trying to fix. He'd always been a terrible liar. He wasn't about to suddenly become good at it, right??
Belatedly, they realized Susie had begun to howl with laughter at some point, throwing her head so far back she nearly tipped her chair and putting a hand over her eyes like it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard in her life. Berdly wasn't having any luck with his impulsive preening, either, seeing as he kept glaring at her and fluffing his feathers upwards every time he smoothed them down.
“Holy fucking shit, dude!” she cackled with that familiar raspy lilt, banging the hand that wasn't clutching her face on the table. “No way- hahahahaha!”
“I fail to see the humor in this!” Berdly growled in the least intimidating attempt at intimidation Kris had ever seen. “How would you like it if your bitter rival accidentally flirted with you?!”
“Well, I personally wouldn't be blushing about it.” Noelle interjected politely, putting a hoof over her mouth to badly conceal her smile.
“Wh- I am not blushing!” the bluebird screeched. “It's naught more than embarrassment!”
“Sure, Berdly.” the reindeer sighed, a playful edge to her tone. “If you say so.”
Berdly groaned dismally, once again attempting to disappear within his massive wings. An undefined chirrup left his beak, low and a little gravelly. He peeked through his digit feathers over at Kris, his eyes narrowed.
“Well, now we've both been humiliated.” he grumbled into his plumage. “I hope this serves as a future reminder to never attempt things you know nothing about again, Kristen.”
…Was that a challenge they heard?
The chagrin wreaking havoc throughout their entire body gave way to something more competitive, a small smirk tugging at their lips. So he thought they wouldn't be able to figure it out on their own, was that it? Fat chance. They'd show him. He'd eat those words when they inevitably learned his own language just to spite him.
(Plus, curiosity was beginning to take a hold of them. How many other kinds of birdsong were there? Could he chirp in any other way besides the annoyed, grumbling chirps he made when they were kicking his ass at Smashing Fighters?)
‘I'll make sure to learn for next time.’ they signed loosely, watching with satisfaction as Berdly's eyes widened, then narrowed even further.
Invigoration surged through their body, fully determined to commit to this bit even if it killed them. Some research was definitely in order. Chirping couldn't be that complicated.
[…]
So it turned out chirping was that complicated.
Maybe Kris should have expected that. Things were never that easy, were they? Especially when it came to learning a whole new language that they'd neglected to study prior.
They hadn't expected it to be so… convoluted, was all. Trills that sounded the same and meant wholly different things, birdsong with similar melodies fit for different situations… the intricacies of avian language had given them a headache practically the second they'd gathered enough courage to look it up on Boogle. There was a lot to learn in what felt like not enough time (even though they hadn't actually set a time limit on their self-imposed challenge), and the thought of browsing article after article while not even being sure where to start bored them to death.
And so they gave up on online research and took matters into their own hands. Also, they had a brand new notebook now.
It wasn't all that big, sort of the size of a journal, but that was all they needed to catalogue everything they knew about Berdly's chirping from the time they'd known him. Deep growly chirrup? Annoyance, anger if it deepened further. High-pitched mrrp! sort of trill? Surprise. Warbling birdsong shifting between E minor and F sharp? Some sort of happiness indicator. Shitty mimicry of the aforementioned song? A fucking mating call, apparently.
Except that really wasn't all that much information, and their lack of knowledge had begun to bother them greatly. They'd really thought they knew more about him, with how often they had him over so they could play fighting games together, but from the little they'd found out via their short-lived research, Berdly was actually not very vocal when it came to avian language, just regular old English. They huffed out a puff of air in annoyance. The least he could have done was have some variety.
Naturally, the smartest suggestion was to start hanging around him more often in a wider variety of situations besides school or their Smashing Fighters hangouts, paying close attention to the way he chirped and how he looked when he did so and comparing it to whatever he was experiencing in the moment so they could accurately jot it down. Naturally.
…Maybe that sounded a little deranged now that they were actually putting thought into it, but how else were they supposed to fill up their notebook? Just waiting for things to happen? That would take ages! They had to be more proactive. Proactivity was normal, wasn't it?
Which was how they ended up birdwatching at the Librarby. Or, well, at least it was birdwatching at first - now, seeing Berdly so prim and proper at the counter, unbothered in a way decidedly not like himself, they were beginning to think it was time for some birdbothering.
Kris hadn't gathered a lot from their brief Boogling, but they did gather some promising information that they could use to mess with Berdly and maybe get some new bird noises out of him. It didn't take them too long to learn how to mimic the calls they found; years of yearning to be just like the monsters they shared a town with had led them to try to use mimicry to feel closer to them, which in turn made them become apt at copying practically any monster sound.
With one last look at the pitiful two pages of information they had on Berdly's chirping, they closed their notebook, shoved it in their spacious pants hole, and walked to the counter. Immediately, the bluebird volunteer (the only volunteer, really) perked up from his half-slouch into a much more professional stance when he heard someone approaching, only to lose some of the tension in his shoulders when he saw who it was.
Kris could not believe they were about to essentially fling catcalls at Berdly for research. They would have felt a bit more ashamed of themselves, if the prospect of pissing him off like that wasn't so enticing. He was always at his most entertaining when his feathers were fluffed and he was glaring at them from behind a pair of glasses too big for his face. And besides, they wanted to see what would happen.
“Kris.” he deadpanned, unamused. “I don't suppose that notebook in your pocket is the overdue How To Draw Dragons in disguise? Or are you just here to waste my time as always?”
The human didn't answer him - at least not verbally or through ASL. Instead, with a smirk plastered across their face, they made a low whistling note, a common greeting, but drawn out to simulate some sort of teasing lilt. The bluebird's eyes widened a little in surprise before going back to the half-lidded look.
“So you were serious about that drivel.” he muttered thoughtfully. “Very well.”
Berdly returned the whistle, much simpler, sounding somewhat curt. Kris's smirk widened until it was just shy of a grin. It was great to get direct confirmation that their online research had been fruitful. They made a mental note to jot down that whistle as a confirmed greeting later.
“I suppose I can commend you for whistling a greeting well enough, though I don't know why you'd prolong it that much.” he snarked. His beak curled into a smirk as he raised an eyebrow. “That is, of course, unless you were flirting with me. But that couldn't be it, could it?”
Kris nearly snorted at his mocking tone and “gotcha” sort of expression, unbearably smug in a way they were very familiar with. He really thought that had been an accident on their part, huh? Poor little bluebird. He didn't even know what was coming to him.
They leaned one of their forearms on the counter, tilting their head to the side a little as they looked right at him. And with their free hand up to their mouth to make sure they did it correctly, they mimicked a series of whistles to the best of their ability, trying not to smile too widely in case that messed up the sound.
In a flash, Berdly fluffed up and squawked quietly, almost more like a cheep, though he seemed a bit apprehensive. They knew what that one meant. Surprise.
They grinned up at him a little. Their plan was going flawlessly already - those ruffled feathers and the embarrassingly visible blush that accompanied them were the only consolation they could have gotten from essentially telling him You're pretty. in chirping form.
(Why were they even doing this again?)
“Uh.” he sputtered, with a much higher pitch than he usually spoke at. “I-I'm, um. N-not sure you… k-know… but…”
His awkward rambling devolved into equally gauche chuckles as he pulled up a wing to preen his digit feathers. Nothing could hide that fluster, though, not even having a whole wing spread out in front of his face - his poofed, incredibly soft-looking plumage was still in full view, and from the angle they were at, Kris could see his tail flicking behind him. Not to mention, he had this odd look in his eyes, and his pupils had shrunk a little for whatever reason. Or maybe they didn't. They couldn't be sure, with how much they were darting around.
(Kris's SOUL skipped a beat at the sight. Ah. That was why.)
The human snickered under their breath. His reaction was hilarious, weirdly enough. That goofy look he got when he didn't know how to respond to compliments… they sort of wanted to see it again.
So they tried another one. A step-up from the last, by a noticeable margin. They corrected their curled hand's angle and whistled once again, not letting their eyes leave his flushed face so as to avoid missing a single reaction. They had to write down which expression accompanied which chirp, after all.
I want to kiss you.
Berdly made a loud strangled noise, looking as though he was about to bend over and cough before realizing Kris's arms were already occupying the counter.
“That's- v-very forward, Kris!” he choked out amidst what sounded like flustered coos - another thing for the notebook. “We're not even dating - n-not that we ever would be anyway!! - so there's no reason for you to-”
Kris interrupted him with another whistle, for some reason much shorter and simpler in comparison to the other two. I want to date you. He'd set himself up for that one. Nothing they could do about it.
This just worsened Berdly's already antsy demeanor. His larynx ejected a choked, trill-like sort of chirp that he was clearly very embarrassed about voicing, based on the way he forcefully cut it off by tightly snapping his beak shut. It made goosebumps flare all over Kris's body as soon as they'd heard it. What was that one all about?
“I suppose that would… fix one of the problems, but-” the bluebird was struggling to adequately respond to their flirting, so fluffy he'd become a feathery fuzzball at that point. “I'm afraid I will have to politely decline, Kris. E-even though I know what your game plan is and that you're not really asking me that, y-you're just-”
As a desperate last resort to hear the noise he'd just made one more time, they tried their hand at the last whistle they'd discovered, the most complicated one and the one with the most meaning behind it. I want to share a nest with you.
Now that chirp he'd made before was truly audible, louder than before and not muddled by virtue of being mixed with a choking sound. They thought their second attempt would have done him in already, but apparently nest sharing meant more than they'd realized. They would have to look that up at some point. Maybe knowing the intricacies would make teasing him more fun?
Berdly was certainly affected. They could say that much. That wild blush, the way his plumage rippled and twitched, and most importantly, those pupils. They were so small. It made them wonder what could have possibly caused them to change like that, carefully analyzing his demeanor and the way the cobalt shade highlighted his poofy feathers for a chance at answering their own question.
At least until he shook his head aggressively and his brows creased in an angry expression, snapping them out of their odd trance.
“That's- Th-that's quite enough!” he cheeped, breathing heavily as he tried to force out a laugh. “If all you're going to do is… m-make fun of me in my own language, then- Y-you can move along now. Out! Out!”
He waved his wings frenetically in front of them, practically shooing them away like they were some sort of wild animal until they actually peeled themselves from the counter and walked off, whistling a drawn out goodbye in return almost absentmindedly. They heard him chirp something back in response, with a growly tone that suggested it was not a pleasant sentence.
(They missed the softer sound of his flustered coos and that mysterious chirp.)
A mild feeling of disappointment weighed on them. Why did he react so strongly? They were just having fun inconveniencing him at his job like they always did. They'd flirted with him before, too, although that had been mostly the SOUL talking. In any case, it was always better to get the chirps directly from an avian, and it wasn't like they had a lot more viable options on hand. Berdly was just the most convenient source. He'd have to deal with it.
They looked through the window as soon as they walked out of the Librarby and shut the door behind them. Even through the hazy glass, they could see the inside well enough to spot Berdly, feathers still fluffed, dark blue blush still prevalent.
He was too distracted freaking out to notice them staring at him from outside, thankfully. His eyes were wide and his beak lightly parted, chest rising and falling as he heaved. Slowly, he brought a wing up to his chest and pressed it against it, brows furrowing. Whatever it was that he felt made him narrow his eyes and turn his head to the side ever so slightly in what looked like a scoff, the color of his cheeks darkening. As if it was a practiced motion, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and forced his appearance to neutralize again, though some aspects such as his blush still remained.
Kris felt their SOUL's palpitations without even having to press their palm to their chest themselves. He… He really was affected by that. Way more than they'd expected him to. Was flirting with him in avian language somehow…
They walked away without allowing that thought to reach the end of its thread. It was research. It was all for their research.
[…]
With spring came molting season, and that in turn brought with it a myriad of unique chirps Kris had never heard from Berdly before (or at least hadn't focused on enough to remember). It was like a block of sorts had been lifted, and it was highly helpful for filling up their notebook.
Ever since the chirp-flirting fiasco they'd gotten into mainly with the intention of teasing him after their accidental blunder that one day by doing it on purpose, Berdly had been kind of awkward with his chirps. Not less obvious about them like they'd expected, but the exact opposite. He started vocalizing a lot more stuff in avian language rather than in English, kind of like he was daring them to decipher what it meant. Maybe it was also the spring talking. Or the frustration stemming from the itchiness.
Why did he look so itchy, anyway?
They'd tried to get a good look at him all afternoon, whenever he was focused enough on their Smashing Fighters match for them to sneak a glance in his direction, to no avail. He was doing a damn good job hiding whatever it was that was bothering him. They noticed a couple of growly trills leaving his beak as he struggled to recover and get back onto the stage, tail swishing in annoyance, but still nothing concrete about the cause of his demeanor. How annoying.
It hadn't been the first time he chirped under his breath like that, though even after all this time, they still couldn't find what prompted him to make that noise. It'd been jotted down with three question marks on their notebook for weeks now, and it was starting to bother them. Maybe it was a complaint or a taunt. Maybe he was just swearing at them in avian language whenever he lost a stock. The thought made them snicker.
“What's so funny?” Berdly growled, eyes still glued to the screen. “Don't let your guard down just yet, Kristoff. I will not be bested that easily.”
“I'll make you eat those words, birdbrain.” they bit back, feeling the embers of competition within them being set alight by his voice once again. “Stay alert.”
Berdly grumbled their warning back at them petulantly, nearly rolling his eyes right out of his sockets. Whatever it was that was bothering him, it must be serious business. The bluebird wasn't usually that childish - at least not until they were over twenty matches into their sesh.
Not that that wasn't getting closer. One well-timed smashing hit from Astrowolf and Hawko was sent flying, putting an end to Berdly's efforts and further rubbing salt into the wound when it resulted in his character being launched into the stars.
Berdly cawed as soon as the animation began, setting the controller down as gently as he was able to before he threw his wings in the air in defeat, then tugged at his facial feathers the way one would pull their own hair. Finally, something Kris could decipher. Frustration. A very intense kind they rarely got to hear, and one that put an easy smile on their face.
“Someone's feeling sore.” they taunted him, tapping his lower leg with their foot to get his attention.
Berdly didn't dignify them with a reply. Or rather, he did, but composed of a myriad of chirps they hadn't researched enough to understand. He wasn't looking at them, though. He was… twisting his head all over like he was looking for something?
They furrowed their brows. Odd. Now he had his head turned over a hundred degrees and was burying his beak into his plumage like he was scratching an itch. They saw flashes of translucent white between the blue of his feathers when his beak ruffled them and spread them apart. Was that…?
The bluebird growled in frustration, huffing under his breath and adjusting his grip on the controller. Kris could only barely notice the way he let his hardened gaze soften into some sort of desperation as the sound passed through his beak. This sudden change in mood would have confused them, if they hadn't caught on to one crucial detail.
A low warble was hiding beneath his growl, quiet and strained like he was trying to hold it back. It mixed with the other sound just enough for Kris to be unable to catalogue it for their research, but it was still cause for intrigue. What did that mean? And why would he feel the need to hide it?
They let their gaze guide itself towards the bluebird again. They'd lost count of how often they'd done it by that point - the sight next to them was just too interesting to ignore. The angrier he got, the more his feathers puffed, and the easier it was to see the thin, translucent cylinders peeking through the blue. There were more than they thought there were, scattered all over, especially in his lower crest area right above his nape.
They'd finally found the source of his woes, the thing that was making him so vocal and frustrated. Those were keratin shells, weren't they? They'd come across a visual depiction of them during their research before, and what they were seeing on Berdly's crest fit it to a T. It felt weird to them that someone as much of a neat freak as him hadn't yet properly molted.
Was he uncomfortable? It certainly seemed like it, with the way he'd been rolling his shoulders like he was trying to discreetly scratch an itch out of reach. Maybe he really couldn't reach that area - he could rotate his neck a hundred and eighty degrees, but surely even that sort of flexibility had its limits. And his feather-fingers didn't seem particularly useful to break the keratin.
Kris's hand twitched to life where it laid on their lap. The urge to reach out and touch was immense, and if they weren't careful, they would actually-
Berdly squawked in surprise, jolting on his side of the couch. The feeling of soft feathers mixed with the harder but not by much keratin shells spread through their fingertips until their brain caught up to their actions and forced them to stay completely still.
Impulse had won yet again.
Briefly, Kris considered something drastic.
In the tense, extremely awkward moment, they almost pulled their hand away and muttered some sort of explanation as if that was in any way something that could be explained normally. The only thing that stopped them was the way Berdly just… froze. Eyes wide and unwilling to stray from the screen. Beak only ever so slightly parted in surprise.
The worst idea they could have possibly had flashed in their mind like a blindingly white screen. Actually coming into contact with his feathers was making them feel unwise, and the idea that they could maybe fix his discomfort only worsened the problem. Or at least those were the only possible explanations for what they did next.
Because, like an insane person, Kris moved their fingers again.
And to their chagrin and extremely mistimed exhilaration, all Berdly did was give them exactly what they wanted in the form of a clearer version of that warble from before.
It was no less strained than it had been, though. The little chrr sort of noise that came from him should have been enough to satisfy their curiosity, but it wasn't. Something within them still wanted to soothe his clear discomfort with his feathers. And so they kept scratching his nape.
His eyes screwed shut not long after, eyebrows creased in a perpetual expression of what seemed like both relief and shame. His warble grew just a little louder when they experimentally reached up, and the tension visibly melted away from him as he finally, finally let himself relax.
(It wasn't helping. Seeing him so serene, putty in their hands, was not helping.)
“Ple-” Berdly sucked in a breath before he could get a full word out. Whether to muffle it on purpose or by accident, Kris couldn't tell. “Hff…”
Emboldened by what they were pretty sure was some sort of go-ahead, Kris tried their hand at lightly pinching one of the shells between their fingers and breaking it down, allowing the new feather confined within it to spring out. Additionally, they did their best to smooth it out until it kind of looked like the older ones that surrounded it.
This netted them the most positive Berdly response they'd seen thus far. He practically threw his head back in bliss, trilling audibly. The corners of his beak tugged upwards in a minuscule smile.
Suddenly, his head tilted to the side until his cheek met their wrist, feathers lightly moving up and down with it. It was only then that Kris realized that the bluebird was quite literally rubbing his cheek against their hand in a silent plea.
The weird and extremely distracting fluttery feeling in their SOUL only grew stronger when he turned further and touched his beak to their sleeve, making an even bigger show of nuzzling into it. The undocumented warble exited him unabashedly, the smile he donned much more prominent now. He was quite literally asking for it.
Kris's mouth felt dry, their face far too warm for comfort. How in the world were they supposed to… be normal about this? Was it weird if their stomach felt like it had buzzing cicadas crawling all over it? Over Berdly, over him begging them to-
Berdly's controller slipped from his wings. Kris was too distracted by his ludicrous actions to notice, and by the time they did, it had already made a dull clack against the carpet. At the sudden sound, the bluebird pulled away like he'd been shaken out of a trance, eyes wide like saucers, looking completely and utterly mortified as he scrambled to grab the controller again.
“I- Uh-” he stammered, desperately averting his gaze. His face was blazing blue, and the tone of his voice was as unsteady as his words. “This never happened. Erase it from your memory permanently, if you will.”
He looked back over to the TV screen without another word, feathers twitching and the previous tension in his stance returning in a flash. His pursed beak and hardened gaze didn't seem to leave much room for conversation.
(Kris tried and failed not to feel disappointed.)
“Right.” they muttered in response, looking straight at their controller to avoid seeing Berdly in their peripheral vision. “Will do.”
The bluebird chirruped again with a huff. The fact that they didn't know what it meant frustrated them more than it should have.
[…]
Kris decidedly was not still hung up on the events from two days prior. They weren't. Their focus had shifted to a completely different research topic for unrelated reasons. They were looking through Boogle articles on mutual preening between two avians because it was convenient.
Coming into contact with Berdly's feathers had changed something in them, their brain lingering on the sensation even now, somewhat subconsciously yearning to replicate it through textiles around their home - to no avail. The realization that maybe all they needed to get him to voice those elusive chirps was touch had come far too late for their liking.
And so they'd started incorporating it more. Playfighting, ruffling his crest, dragging him by the wing and “accidentally” letting their fingers run along the feathers as they let go. Getting any excuse they could to touch his plumage again, to rake their fingers through it and watch him freeze up and lean into it more the longer it lingered, making the same damn chirrupy sound every time, low but not quiet enough that they couldn't hear it.
They'd decided to give it their own definition. Scratch me. They'd say it was fitting, seeing as every time they did so, Berdly would relax and the chirp would morph into something else, before he cut it off in embarrassment and finally managed to fight them off with the power of his clear chagrin. A shame, really. It was a pretty melodic sound.
(They'd be lying if they said playfights hadn't gotten more entertaining when they realized just how easily Berdly melted at physical touch.)
And now there they were, sitting side by side on his living room couch, panting lightly from the exertion of roughhousing after yet another loss, something Kris had initiated. They let their eyes wander to the bluebird's frame, noting his ruffled feathers and how his beak worked tirelessly to smooth them back down amidst annoyed grumble-chirps. They'd have to jot that down sometime later.
“I suppose you win this one.” he muttered into his feathers, digging into his forewing with his beak. “Simply because I was caught off guard.”
Kris snickered under their breath in a chittering manner. They bumped their shoulder with his, jostling him out of his preen and making him glare at them when they kept their shoulders touching after the fact.
“Everything's gotta have an excuse, hm?” they drawled, reaching up to ruffle his crest almost without thinking. “Can't ever accept that my victories were fair.”
The bluebird seemed a little less receptive to it this time, though, because he waved them off with a wing, shoving at them with his elbow until they were no longer leaning on him. Kris allowed him to. They had a hunch he was starting to catch on that they were doing it on purpose, anyways.
“You certainly enjoy messing up my feathers.” he snarked. “It must be very amusing to see me at my worst, isn't that right? That's why you leave me to fix them.”
His avoidant tone almost made Kris laugh. Like they hadn't felt how he leaned into the ruffling when their hand was on his crest. He was not slick. Silly little bird and his inability to confront anything like a normal person.
Seeing him preen again, they were reminded of the Boogling they'd done. One of the questions eating away at them like a parasite had been the deeper workings of mutual preening, how to go about it, which signs of willingness to look out for. It turned out there was a way to ask for it that even someone without a beak or feathers could replicate. And the intense urge to find out just how Berdly would react was all-consuming.
Hiding their cheeky smile by biting the inside of their lip, the human leaned closer to Berdly, made brief eye contact when he turned to them questioningly, then lowered their head and pushed up against him, nudging his collar with their head.
His confusion was brief. The subsequent realization came not long after, with the way he tensed up and squawked in shock, higher in pitch than usual and very flustered. They couldn't see him, but they could tell he was gawking at them, and the mental image did nothing to stifle the amusement rushing through their veins as they pictured the stupid little face he was making.
His voice had reached higher decibels, too. “Wh-what are you-”
“Want me to preen them better instead?” Kris teased in a singsong voice, making a show of rubbing their face right up against the side of his neck.
(Their tone sounded flirty. And sure, maybe they didn't intend it, but it wasn't like that mattered. The more genuine they seemed, the better reactions they'd get out of him. He'd always worn his SOUL on his sleeve, even if he tried to hide it.)
Berdly sputtered a bit more, but the shock had finally worn off as he noticed the proximity between the two of them. He flapped his wings as he repeatedly tried to shrug Kris off of him until they finally gave up on their stubbornness and actually moved away, eyes locked on his expression to get all the reactions they could.
To put it mildly, he was very outraged right now, in the typical Berdly way: gawking, feathers fluffed, brows furrowed, and a scrunched beak. His chest heaved with his deep breaths, and his face had turned cobalt in a second. With a hefty scoff, he shook himself off, instead fixing them with a disappointed expression that was as authentic as his teacher's pet demeanor.
“Hilarious.” he snapped, even though his voice wasn't as steady as he wanted it to be. “I thought we agreed that didn't happen.”
(Kris felt a ripple travelling up their spine at the reminder of that incident. They chose to ignore it.)
“What didn't happen?” they drawled.
“Exactly.” Berdly let out a huff. “So I don't understand why you would have to bring it up.”
The human let their eyes wander over his feathers, fluffed upwards in a demonstration of annoyance. He made a couple of growly chirps once he realized he was being watched, correctly assuming Kris couldn't understand him. He was in a bold mood, it seemed, facing them head on, refusing to back down even when they shot him their best unnerving stare.
Unfortunately for him, Kris was feeling bold too.
“What if I said it had nothing to do with that?” they slid closer to him, fingers just barely coming into contact with his digit feathers. “What if I just wanted to see how you'd react?”
Instead of the flustered sputtering and goofy little blush they'd expected, Berdly just rolled his eyes, forcibly smoothing his feathers down before they even got to spread out properly. Kris might or might not have been a little disappointed that he'd learned to stay composed.
“Your flirtatious front won't work on me this time.” he grumbled. “Is this your new favorite way to torment me?”
The human blinked, staring at him in silence. Their face felt warmer than it had been five seconds ago.
…What.
“What.” they blurted out, befuddled.
Berdly let out a frustrated puff of air that sounded like a scoff.
“Do you think I'm daft?” he asked snidely. “I can tell you're trying to flirt with me again. Knock it off before I wipe that faux surprised look off your face.”
Kris's jaw dropped open ever so slightly. They stared up at Berdly's unamused expression, which was slowly morphing into slight befuddlement in real time.
…Did the room get hotter or was it just them??
“I- I-I wasn't. Uh.” they tried, feeling like their voice was failing them in several different ways. “That wasn't. Intentional.”
The bluebird stared at them in stunned silence for a while. Very slowly, his beak began to curve upwards. His eyes narrowed at a similar pace, not with disdain, but with the pure mirth that could only come from beating Kris at their own game.
A chirrupy giggle bubbled out of him. Then another. And another. Increasing in length and intensity, until in just a few moments, he was all but crowing with laughter, scratchy and ugly in a way that was completely unique to him, practically doubling over from the apparent hilarity of this situation and wheezing like he'd ran the way to his own house.
His glasses kept repeatedly attempting to slide down his beak until he pushed them back up at the last moment, and his eyes were almost screwed shut with how much they were crinkling due to his wide, delirious grin. It was an eye-catching sight, to say the least.
(This wasn't admiration. It was research.)
Kris buried their face in their hands shamefully, trying to both hide the burgeoning blush plaguing their entire face and block out the bluebird's laughter that had seemed to seep into their brain and was determined to ring in their head for as long as physically possible. This was so embarrassing.
“Not funny.” they growled through gritted teeth. “Got my sources wrong.”
“Y-you're quite right, Kristoff!” he giggled, huff-laughing the whole way in between. “This isn't just funny - it's the height of comedy!”
Another fit of crow-like cackles wracked him, his voice just getting thinner and thinner as he succumbed to the glee. At least he was trying harder not to laugh so unabashedly this time, in a way that weirdly enough made Kris's SOUL flutter in their chest as if it was filled with helium. Not that it helped at all, seeing as they were still working out the pros and cons of threatening their own wellbeing in front of him.
“Be quiet!” the human hissed, but it came out a lot more pathetic than they'd hoped. They felt so feverish with their fluster they wanted to fucking die.
Berdly was not quiet. Berdly laughed harder. He was very much enjoying this upper hand.
“Tell me, dearest, did you use aVian for your little research?” he teased with the sort of expression that suggested he would never let them live this down.
Kris pulled their lips into a taut line, groan-whining with the purest dismay. Fuck. They had used aVian for it. Of course they'd have such rotten luck picking research websites on the spot.
“Sounds like a yes to me.” the bluebird crowed, leaning closer to them to make sure they could see the smugness they'd already felt emanating from him. “You see, my bitter rival, aVian articles are often very… nonspecific in their wording. Quite easy to misunderstand. Something you would have discovered if you'd been more thorough.”
The human glared up at him. How dare he assume they weren't thorough in their online research? Never mind the fact that he was right - how dare he assume it?
They signed three letters at him bitterly, puffing air out of their nose like a malcontented horse. Instead of the annoyed grumbles they'd expected, the bluebird just started cackling again. They didn't like the way their skin prickled at the sound. It felt a little too pleasant.
“Better luck next time, Kris!” he waved them goodbye in a singsong tone, though his cheeks had a dusting of dark blue in them and his smile was almost somewhat dreamy. “I have high hopes for you!”
Kris flipped him off wordlessly, turning tail to leave and grabbing their phone off of the couch to shove it in their pocket. They'd show him. They'd do real online research and find the proper website to get their sources right. He would see. And then he wouldn't start crowing like a dying corvid again.
They had no further thoughts on never getting to hear him laugh like that again.
[…]
Late at night, after the clusterfuck that was their afternoon, Kris concluded one thing and one thing only: they had to get fully verified sources for their information online by the next morning.
They'd looked into every nook and cranny for information on the most trustworthy and helpful website for avian language information, and it was paying off. Wherever they checked, people almost unanimously agreed that Tera-Canto was the place to go when it came to the intricacies of chirping. Even Creddit had been helpful in directing them to the right place. They had to hand one thing to that nerd, he wasn't wrong about how useful it could be in hyper-specific situations.
They narrowed their eyes against the brightness of the screen, the website's main page displayed on Asriel's computer. If Berdly wanted “thorough”, then he was going to get it. They were prepared to do anything if it meant gaining the upper hand again. That stunt at his house had been far too humiliating.
It started simple. Research about the most common chirps and what they meant, which they feverishly jotted down in their notebook alongside a vague description of the sound that only made sense to them. Surprised. Embarrassed. Happy. Confused. Annoyed. All sounds provided in the website by an avian helpfully replicating them in video form. And all sounds that had Kris itching to find out more.
Not all avians sounded the same, they'd realized as they went on. Which they supposed made sense. The avian on their screen, a speckled brown thrush of some sort, was a lot more melodic compared to the bluebird they were used to, their chirps clear and easy to understand. They supposed that was why they were used as an example - it made things a lot easier than Berdly's scratchier voice.
(But it didn't feel right to hear.)
Still, they continued, absently watching the minutes tick by in the bottom right corner of the screen while they clicked and prodded around every article, every section, every category of chirp. They found out they'd likely come close to butchering their joking flirting attempts from way before, which was to be expected, since they were going off of the lengthy descriptions and grainy recordings of the sound they'd found on aVian (why had they even trusted that website??), along with learning brand new phrases the other websites didn't provide. It was all wildly helpful and descriptive, and they cursed themselves for dismissing Tera-Canto the first time they'd come across it due to the website's simplicity in design.
And then, amidst their lazy scrolling, Kris noticed a section for better help understanding avian partners. Tucked at the bottom of the page, almost innocuous in the way it wasn't attention-grabbing. It talked about chirps, nest sharing, and other behaviors more linked towards avians in a romantic relationship.
Kris clicked it without hesitation.
They couldn't find an explanation for doing so. There was… something compelling them to go deeper into their research, even if realistically it wouldn't be that important. It was still research. They kind of had to… browse that section. To be thorough, right? That was good reasoning, they thought. Berdly would never shut the fuck up about it if they pussied out because it was a little embarrassing.
They glanced at the clock. Thirty minutes until midnight. They had some time on their hands. They could afford this.
They dove into it like an Olympic swimmer, carefully reading through every article, listening to every chirp. They found out some avians sang when their partners returned home to their “nest”. They found out what sounds an avian made when they wanted something to continue, that deep, rumbling churr they felt like they'd heard before, muffled beyond recognition in Berdly's clenched beak. They found out what pleading sounded like in avian language, and it made them want to hear more of it, clicking the replay button over and over in a daze.
They found out more about nest sharing, too. How it was a sign of trust and love. How avians often felt territorial over their nest, and sharing only happened between an avian and their parents or partners. Words blurred together. Over and over again, they read about things they would never experience, heard chirps they would have never heard from Berdly in any circumstance. Because that wasn't their kind of relationship.
(Why did they feel like… they wanted to confirm their validity?)
Finally, Kris came across a goldmine. A whole section dedicated to preening behaviors, demonstrating chirps specific to both mutual and solo preening and also the instinctive actions that came with the act itself. It turned out avians fluffed out their feathers and shook their body during preening, likely to spread them out further and make them easier to clean. They pictured Berdly doing that, and the thought put a smile on their face.
It was only when they reached the mutual preening etiquette section of the article, though, that something warmed beneath their skin with barely bridled anticipation. They'd been in a daze listening to the other chirps, but now that a topic they'd experienced directly had come up, they were laser focused. Impatient, they instinctively clicked on the audio before they actually read through, something within them craving to hear it.
The rumbling sound of the warble captivated them as soon as it played.
…That sounded familiar.
They'd definitely heard this sort of warble before, at least as far as they remembered. According to the explanation of the avian monster on the screen who had just mimicked it, it was a sound typically reserved for an avian's parents or partners. A sound only used when the avian was requesting to be preened, usually accompanied by them nudging the other person with their head. Something they were terrifyingly familiar with that spread warmth through their body until they felt sickly.
Kris relistened to the warble a couple more times, then paused the video, stopping to think. Maybe that sounded mean to say, but they couldn't imagine Berdly with a partner. They'd rarely seen his parents around, either. They wondered how often he'd had a reason to warble like that.
(They pictured Berdly nudging against them with pleading eyes, warbling in that tone, asking to be preened, asking them to preen him-)
Kris jumped out of their daze, feeling their SOUL skip several beats in a row before it went right back to normal. They rubbed at their bleary eyes in an almost obsessive manner, blinking rapidly. The white glare of Asriel's computer screen was starting to hurt.
As if on autopilot, they shut the whole thing off at the power off button on instinct and trudged back to their bed, dropping onto it without further thought. Lazily, they shuffled under the bedsheets from there and nuzzled into their pillow while ignoring the early onset shame coursing through their veins like nitroglycerin.
It was late. They were tired. They'd been at this since 10PM, and it was way past one now. That was the only reason their thoughts felt so jumbled. That was the only reason their brain was making them wonder what Berdly's facial feathers would feel like to the touch, what it would be like if they were to cup his cheeks with their hands. Their research was seriously starting to mess with their sleep schedule, and it was showing in their deranged late night thoughts.
They shut their eyes tightly and counted up to ten, then back down slowly, breathing evenly in an attempt to distract themselves from the hammering of their SOUL.
Their refusal to think about Berdly wasn't enough to stop it from happening.