The Garden of Earthly Delights

[francia]

Who: Envy (exeggutorhead)
Where: Goldenrod City
When: Valentine's Day
Summary: Four years.
Rating: PG/PG-13
Log:

It never gets old, France reflects, waking up to someone you love.

France reaches out, catches his fingers against the ends of Envy's hair. Even after knowing Envy for over four years, it's natural colour still fascinates France. It's one of the first things he noticed about Envy in those whirlwind, confusing first few months in Johto. He had been surprised by it, had wanted to know how it would feel, if it was dyed. Learning that the colour was natural: while so much as changed, France's fascination has, at least, has stayed the same.

He brings the handful to his lips, kissing gently the ends.

"Are you awake," he whispers, very softly, "mon amour?"

Comments

[exeggutorhead]

Envy had been in that state of half-awake dozing, and not in too much of a hurry to get out of it. France was there, a warm weight beside him, and not going off to work this morning. He could afford to be lazy and enjoy the feeling.

No, it really never did get old. He'd been missing this, all the centuries of his life, and now by some miracle he had it. And no matter how accustomed he was starting to become to being in love and accepting the feeling as love, it's still almost overwhelming when he stops to think about it.

He stirs and cracks one eye open when France speaks, a lazy half-grin spreading across his face.

"Almost, I think."

[francia]

France smiles up at Envy, shifting himself enough to press a slow, indulgent kiss to his lips. He pulls back after a moment, still smiling.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

He cups Envy's cheek, nuzzling his nose into the crown of his head. He breathes in deep, like he would like to imprint all of Envy in his scents permanently.

"Happy Valentine's Day."

[exeggutorhead]

Envy leans into the kiss, and then snorts lightly at 'sleepyhead', muttering, "I am not a...that."

He's pretty sure that he can't even say that word lest he never be cool or dignified ever again. But then his lips quirk in amusement, and he shifts closer against France. He brings one hand up to absently take a lock of France's hair and twirl it between his fingers.

To hell with getting up, he'd like to stay right here for a while longer.

"And to you, too. 'S the fifth one."

And the fourth year. It's almost hard to believe.

[francia]

France chuckles softly. Oh, Envy. France thinks he's the most adorable thing when only partially awake. He sighs contented as Envy moves closer, wrapping his arms around Envy's shoulders and making a pleased noise at the hand in his hair.

Yes, getting up at the moment is terribly overrated. France smiles, perhaps a little goofily.

"I attempt to be clever, but, honestly," he presses his forehead against Envy's, entire face alight with happiness, "you're the best choice this very clever creature has ever made."

[exeggutorhead]

The strong warm, contented feeling that Envy always gets when France says things like that spreads through him. Someone thinks he's their best choice, and not just any someone. France thinks that. France, who Envy thinks is just about the most wonderful person he's ever met.

"And going along with it was the best choice I've ever made."

By a long, long shot. Envy's never been known for making good life choices, but in this case he's fairly certain that he did. Now it's his turn to lean forward and press a kiss to France's lips.

"We've come a long way, haven't we?"

Four years ago, he didn't even think he had emotions, and shied well away from this much affection and closeness. And now look at him. If his past self could see him, he'd have been derisive and made comments about going soft and weak. And maybe he has.

But he's happy.

[francia]

France makes a low, long, contented noise. He kisses back eagerly, smiling into it, before pulling back a little bit to take in the image before him.

"Yes," he murmurs, a deepness to his gaze, "we certainly have."

This place... For all that it is, France has actually gotten to experience what it's probably like to be a human here. There's some things he doesn't enjoy. He doesn't like the feeling of utter helplessness with the way people come and go. He doesn't like not being able to feel the land. France is often bored, used to having more than himself in mind and body. His existence here leaves him feeling empty, disconnected, and ultimately lost.

But, when he's with Envy, in these moments or simply walking together between one town to the next, that undeniable emptiness eases somewhat. Envy fills up those places in France that he would never be able to on his own. Envy has become France's other half. Probably his better half.

All these thoughts are getting France rather worked up. There's a certain shine to his eyes. He sniffs.

"Oh, dear," he says, laughing a little and dipping his head to rest against Envy's chest. "I'm being sentimental."

[exeggutorhead]

Envy would probably argue against being anyone's better half. As far as he's concerned, France is the much better of the two of them.

But he's known France long enough to know that the tearing up doesn't mean he's upset, so he just laughs along, running his hand through France's hair again now that it's so conveniently located.

"I won't tell anyone."

And he's quite happy to stay like that for a few moments longer of quiet, until he hears a light bump on the window. Looking up, he sees a floating, floral pig-elephant thing hovering. He blinks at it, distracted. A few more float by.

"...yeah. I think we ought to stay in until later tonight."

[francia]

That's probably why the two of them work. They both appreciate each other in a manner that no one in either of their worlds has. For someone to love France as he is, not just as a Nation but as a person, it's so important. France doesn't view himself as a person the majority of the time, and to be reminded that he is, at least here in this world, allowed to be: it's novel.

France smiles, nuzzling Envy's chest. "I wouldn't mind if you did. 'Within my soul there lies a secret place, / Where I store away my lovely thoughts of you.'"

He feels Envy shift and a slight pause, so France looks up as well. He stares, lips parted.

"...Ah. Yes. Well, now..."

He coughs and then chuckles, shaking his head. Whatever, whatever. It's not evil ghost bugs. He reaches down and pats Envy's behind playfully.

"How about breakfast?"

[exeggutorhead]

And France was one of the first people in Envy's entire life to have treated him as a person, even when he didn't believe it himself. And now that he does believe it, he'd fight anyone who implied France wasn't one twice as hard.

Personhood, or possible lack of it, is something they can understand about each other in a way that few others can.

At France's poetry, he can't help but grin, "And is that from one of yours, or did you make it up on the spot?"

He laughs quietly at France's expression looking at the Pokemon, snapped out of his own bafflement. No, they don't look like an actual problem. So he returns his attention to France, leaning his head down to press his face against the other man's neck, "I guess, even if we'd have to get up."

[francia]

France grins impishly. "Well," he says, a little slyly, "I can't say I have overmuch claim to those words, but England isn't here to take them back from me."

He shifts from under the covers, twining his fingers in Envy's left hand as he hooks his right ankle around one of Envy's.

"But if we are to stay something more of my tongue and taste..."

He rubs the pad of his thumb over the skin of Envy's inner wrist.

"Indolent darling, how I love / To see the skin / Of your body so beautiful / Shimmer like silk!"