Yours Forever, A.

Summary: This year, Fenrir celebrates his birthday at the Godspeed manor. Alice has a present for him that she’d like to give in private - the perfect place for that being his former bedroom that seemingly preserves all that he ever was through the years.

Rating: G

Word count:1,349

Tags:Fluff;Slightly suggestive!; Birthday party; Presents; Kissing; Very Wholesome 

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Walking with a rushed step, her hand clutched in Fenrir’s, Alice can’t help but notice how different this is from their usual sneaking around. This is not the Black Army headquarters after all, and the loud thud of her high heels meeting the polished floors almost embarrasses her.

One thing is the same, if not even greater in this case - the thrill. Fenrir knows every hallway and every turn, and there is confidence in his step, paired with an unwavering flashy smile occupying his face. In an instant, Alice finds herself on the other side of a familiar door, the one leading to Fenrir’s bedroom.

No matter how many times Alice’s been to the Godspeed manor, she remains taken aback upon landing foot in this particular room. Her curious, widened eyes would be wandering through its interior, taking notice of all the ways in which it resembles Fenrir’s bedroom in the headquarters…and also, all the ways it does not. The sheer vastness of it is to be expected, the big, luxurious bed, the carpets… still of course, everything in Fenrir-typical vibrant colors. Upon her previous couple of visits, Alice’s had the chance to explore the various items displayed along the walls, some hanged up and some kept under glass-panned shelves. Her boyfriend being known for his seemingly limitless energy in his mid-twenties, it’s not hard to imagine how he’s been as a kid - hence the extensive evidence of his hobbies throughout the years. More sports than he’s ever mentioned participating in, definitely more awards than he’s bragged about. There are also some musical instruments that would make a good topic for some other time…Alice can’t allow herself to get any more distracted than that, and especially not right now.

Once the two of them are all cozily settled on the sofa, Alice turns to Fenrir and inhales, wondering how to proceed. Fenrir grins and takes the chance to steal her accumulated-with-effort breath. She can’t get frustrated with him even if she tries, and definitely not today.

In the middle of their kiss that lasts longer than it should, Alice’s senses sharpen up and she picks the sounds coming from outside. The long curtains sway in the background, the windows being open - and she remembers that Fenrir’s bedroom is facing the back of the manor, where the pool party is taking place.

Right, this should aid as a reminder that she is not supposed to be hogging Fenrir for herself for too long - no one would like the Birthday boy to be missing for too long. Even if he’s hardly the only merrymaker around and laughter-mixed chatter flies through the windows every so often. They should be quick, Alice reminds herself.

She forces some distance between them, laughing at the way Fenrir all but whines at the discontinued contact. She places another playful peck on his puckered lips as an apology of sorts.

“Gosh, let me give you the present already, Fen! We didn’t come here just to kiss…”

Fenrir fakes another portion of disappointment, refuted by the sparkle in his eyes when a nicely wrapped box is brought into view, on Alice’s lap.

“You can’t blame me! I’ve hardly kissed you all day, y'know! What kind of birthday is that?”

One would rarely catch Fenrir unsatisfied with the act of partying, and hearing him want his time with her more than anything, all day today, never fails to make her belly coil with something. Shyness? Greedy satisfaction? Eagerness to nod enthusiastically and pull him behind some corner because she feels the same…?

“Well, you got your kiss! And the day is hardly over, so…”

“Oh? What was that? Are you implying something?”

Swiftly changing the topic with the corners of her mouth twitching into a wry smile, she thrusts the box into Fenrir’s hands.

“Once again, Happy Birthday, Fen. I love you…”

Flashing her a smiley I love you too, Fenrir hurries to tug on the ribbon, never quite the patient type. Once the lid is off, Fenrir’s magenta eyes widen at the sight of a remarkably beautiful pistol laid upon a velvet cushion. At first glance, it’s only that - of course, that being enough and more - but then, a realization. A hitching of his breath.

“This is…”

“I was…wondering what to get you. I wanted to combine your biggest passion with something that would hold a meaning of some kind, you see…”

Alice’s rosy cheeks don’t betray her lively speech, even as she nervously fidgets with the hem of her dress, thumbs biting into the fabric.

Fenrir is stunned, handling the object with utmost care as he lifts it in front of his eyes to examine better. He can never mistake that pistol.

“That’s… my first ever…”

“I heard from Ray about it. It used to be broken, well, it’s in better condition now. I need to thank that devilish inventor once more…”

Fenrir gives a hearty chuckle at his own astonishment, turning the gun in his grip with the desire to see it from every angle. It’s a miracle to hold it in his hands again. Most of the guns he’s used through the years are safely preserved in his room, but he’d never had the chance to put this exact one next to the others. The many, many hours of training worked into this pistol had shown themselves in the worn-out trigger until soon it had become unusable. As his first gun, the design is not as flashy as his more recent ones - showing the improvement in both his own unique style and Oliver’s skill in the field. However it has a nice, reflective metallic base that Fenrir can almost see his own grinning expression on. Now that he thinks about it, the pistol damn well deserves its place in his collection.

It takes him a second or two to take notice of a fine engraving on the underside. He trails the tip of his finger along the words “Yours Forever, A.”

His slacked jaw closes again somehow, at last, his expression adopting the features of someone deeply touched, such as he is. Naturally, all words coherent leave him safe for the small ones.

“I love you.”

Alice chuckles, eyes never leaving the act of him caressing the engraved words repeatedly.

“As I said, I should thank-”

And it would be damned unfair for him to be the only one robbed from his speech. Fingers gently entangling into the hair on the back of her head, he presses his lips flat to hers. It’s silent, still kisses like those that are able to make the world cease its movement for a little while in one’s favor.

He pulls back only when he truly feels that his message passed across, but still repeats himself to make sure.

“I love you.”

Alice caresses his face, glad that she is not the only one blushing for once. So, he liked it?

“I love you too! So, so much…”

Fenrir puts the pistol down carefully into its special case, leaving it to the side as he handles Alice’s face in the same delicate manner.

“How do you do that all the time? Leaving me speechless.”

Alice closes her eyes, maybe, maybe anticipating another kiss that is surely coming if he insists on holding her like that.

“It’s not as easy as you think, okay? I was nervous about getting you something nice, and I asked around, and… I guess I also listened to my heart in the end.”

Fenrir lets out a nosey chuckle and buries his face into her shoulder, as if announcing his defeat.

“What?” She chuckles back, unavoidably opening her eyes and urging him to straighten up again.

“That’s my Alice.”

“Yours.”

Whatever is there to be said, all the thankfulness in the world or whatever Fenrir feels necessary, he’d have to fight himself first, and the urge to suffocate her with dozens of small kisses. And if she survives yet still, well, she’ll have to witness him showing off with his cool and oh-so-precious pistol in front of all their friends and acquaintances…

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