Chapter Text
Kris drew in a breath, and all at once cold bathed the exposed areas of their mouth, the feeling hitting their dry throat uncomfortably like they’d swallowed an ice cube. It made them cough, ripping them lucid from their sleep in a series of raspy, sleepy hacks. The icy feeling that nipped the exposed areas of their face made them finally move, lifting their hand to rub their freezing nose. Kris shifted to their side, dazed from their slumber as their whereabouts came back to them, blinking in the dark room.
Ice cold, the scent of roasted chestnuts and peppermint filling their nose, and the slight snore of someone a little ways away in the room— the Holidays. Right. More specifically, Noelle’s bedroom.
The brunette rubbed their eyes, a yawn rising from their lungs as they recalled the night: working on the script for their literature final, remembering the blizzard that roared outside, and Toriel asking Carol over the phone if it’d be alright for Kris to stay over rather than risk an accident driving the car to pick them up.
The storm still blew against the side of the house now, Kris noted, as the whistling gusts rattled the windows. The room was still pitch black, save for a couple of blue lights that blinked from Noelle’s computer. It must still be early.
They sat up.
It’d been a while since Kris had slept over, recalling specifically just how uncomfortable the couch was in Noelle’s room as their lower back heaved an ache. Their palm padded around aimlessly on the blanket until their fingers touched the smooth, cold glass of their phone, tapping it awake and reading the blurry time of 2:32 AM.
Kris gave another tired yawn upon seeing it, stretching their hands above their head, their stiff back giving a couple of relieving pops. Their eyes began to adjust to the darkness, making out the simple shapes of furniture in Noelle’s room; the desk, the edge of her flatscreen TV, the corner of her bed, and the tiny slit of pale yellow under the crack of her bedroom door.
Kris squinted, focusing their eyes in the darkness at the silent figure on the bed beyond their feet, Noelle’s back to them, deep in sleep. Even with her heavy coat, Kris didn’t understand how anyone could sleep in a house so cold— although, the doe had quite the comfortable bed, as Kris recalled, with the most plush pillows and mattress they’d ever slept on. It’d been a few years since they’d slept in it, though; as kids, Noelle’s bed had been big enough for the both of them to comfortably sleep in together. And then one day out of the blue, around when Kris was about twelve, Noelle had laid out a pillow and blanket on the pink couch in her bedroom, and lamented that Carol told her they were no longer permitted to share a bed. Kris had barely gotten any sleep then, more cold that night than they ever had been in the Holiday house before.
They swallowed, nearly choking. Their throat was raspy from the cold, dry air permeating the bedroom.
Kitchen. Glass of water. Their brain instructed.
Kris swung their feet to the side of the couch, pushing the blankets from their lap and getting to their feet. Their socks padded their steps as they crossed the icy floorboards, using their hands to lightly feel their way to the door across the way. Kris quietly turned the knob, pulling it open just enough to squeeze their slim frame through, and left it slightly cracked behind them. The hallway was even colder, the temperature dropping a good couple of degrees, making goosebumps creep up their arms.
The house was quiet, save for the blizzard that disturbed the world outside. The sound of numerous wind-chimes and jingle bells interrupted the frequent gusts, being blown violently in the blizzarding winds, masking the occasional creak of floorboards as Kris made their way to the staircase. Multi-colored Christmas lights decorating the hallway walls illuminated the path for the stairs, which Kris descended quickly, having made this early-in-the-morning trek dozens of times before. Noelle had even gotten them a novelty cup from a National Park she’d visited once on a family trip, and it became the cup they used every time they came over.
Kris retrieved it from its spot in the cupboard, recognizing it immediately from how it stood out from the rest of the Holiday’s crystalline dish ware. They filled it half full in the kitchen sink, brought it to their lips to gulp it down, drips running down their chin as they quenched their thirst, and shoved it back under the running water to fill it once more. Once satiated, Kris turned to head back to bed, glass still in hand.
Red eyes, hidden under dark brown bangs, suddenly met with another pair of eyes as soon as they turned on their heel. They nearly dropped their glass of water, coming face to face with the eldest Holiday sibling, Dess. They froze.
Dess stood five foot nine, her velvet cobalt antlers stretching her height to over six feet. Kris was a few inches under at five foot six, so they had to tilt their head slightly up to look at her. Her short, messy black hair hung in pointy, spiky strands over her lidded gaze that was focused right in on them. Her lips moved to speak.
“Late night snack? Yeah, me too.” She grinned, and stepped past them to rummage around in the fridge. Kris turned their body to watch her as she bent over to peek in the bottom crisper drawer, their eyes skimming her choice of pajamas: A simple black tank top and a comfortable pair of red and green gingham-print pajama pants. Kris was surprised they didn’t hear the click of her hooves on the wooden floor as she approached.
Dess pulled from the fridge a container of fruit, a lone slice of pie, whip cream and a tupperware dish of the most recent dinner leftovers. Kris thought Asriel ate a lot for a young adult, and this just seemed downright excessive. They just stood and watched wordlessly as she shifted to the cabinets next, picking through boxes and containers.
The doe piled it all into the crook of her arm and her hands—once satisfied with her choices— shutting the door to the pantry with a bump of her hip. Kris stayed still, their eyes following her as she walked past them to return to her room. Dess caught their gaze, pausing in front of the staircase, a hoof poised on the first step.
“What…?” She mused, the grin on her face nearly powerful enough to strike them down where they stood. Her buck teeth caught the reflection of one of the many multicolored festive lights that hung around the kitchen, dancing a red sparkle on its white surface. The pearly white was a stark contrast from the dark brown color that was her fur, a nice deep brown caramel she’d inherited from her father. Beautiful black patterned spots dotted her face like freckles. Kris swallowed.
“I saw you eyeing this slice of pie.” Dess continued, her voice quiet and respectful to the still-sleeping members of the Holiday house, holding the plate up to draw attention to it. Kris shifted their gaze to it on cue.
“Too bad it’s the last one.” The doe tacked on, clicking her tongue in mock disappointment. Kris’ eyes glanced at the tuft of brown fur that made up her tail, the tan underside showing as it wagged in amusement.
Finally, Dess turned and began to climb the stairs, and Kris exhaled the breath they hadn’t even realized they were holding.
The way Kris felt around December Holiday was complicated. Messy. Stupid.
It was just natural for Kris to seek out the attention of Noelle’s older sibling when they were a child. As a kid, nobody was cooler than the older sibling of your best friend— she’d been the spitting image of maturity. Dawning risqué clothing, staying out late, seemingly doing whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted to. Getting piercings, branded tattoos that she hid from her mother, drinking beer out of sight from the adults.
The stupid pranks Kris pulled and the silly pictures they’d drawn were specifically meant to get a reaction out of her, all done pining for her approval. She was laid-back and cool and mature, something that Kris idolized about the older doe. They recalled the handful of times they’d pushed a prank too far just to get physically reprimanded by her after.
Kris had such a silly, childhood crush on her. And it hadn’t gone away, that much was apparent.
Kris liked Noelle, too, but Noelle was easy to be around. They’d been such close childhood friends, the two of them going through their milestones together as they grew up side by side, but beyond her was Dess, just out of reach. Always a few inches taller than them, always faster, always smarter and funnier, and always a mystery.
“Still staring at it, huh. You want some?”
Dess’ voice pulled Kris from their thoughts, the brunette blinking their red eyes back into focus on the deer now atop the landing, her silhouette illuminated by the festive lights that clung to the wall behind her. Again, she raised the hand with the plate of pie in it, bringing their attention to the slice. Innocently, curiously, Kris nodded their head. Dess nodded back in approval.
“Alright, c’mon up here, then. We can share it. Grab your own fork.”
Kris turned their body back to the countertops, pulling open the drawer nearest to the stove, retrieving the utensil as instructed. Glass in one hand, fork in the other, they closed in on the staircase, climbing up each step, and by the time they’d gotten to the landing, Dess had disappeared. They paused.
Another one of Dess’ classic mean fake-out jokes? Promising them something only to—
“Over here.” Her voice cut through, nearly making them jump. Kris followed the sound of her voice, turning their head and tracking the sound emanating from a door to their right. Dess’ bedroom door stood cracked half a foot, her figure behind in the room, eyeing them impatiently from over her shoulder. She motioned with a tip of her head for them to follow.
This was unknown territory— Dess’ room, all throughout their childhood, was strictly prohibited without her being present. They hadn’t been in it, let alone seen the inside apart from a passing glance as they walked the hallway, for years now. And they certainly had never been in her room alone before, not without either Noelle or Asriel accompanying them. Not until now, that was.
Kris’ feet carried them, step by step down the hallway to her room, crossing the threshold and entering the doorway. From behind their bangs, they took in the furniture and decorations of her lived space— a bit messy and cluttered, as they always remembered it being from their childhood, a few new posters on the walls and a few swapped out, and the furniture in a different orientation from the last time they saw it. The smell, while still festive to match the rest of the scents permeating the Holiday house, was unmistakably Dess. Whether it was the deodorant and perfume she wore that polluted her clothing and bed, or just the natural musk of her dark brown fur, Kris wasn’t sure. But it was her.
“Close the door behind you,” The doe mumbled. There was a clatter of dishes and crinkling plastic as Dess put the food on her bed, and Kris didn’t contend the request, following through obediently, but some part of their thoughts started running wild, making their heart pick up the pace as it thudded in their chest. The door was closed, and Kris felt like some part of their fate tonight was sealed shut with it.
“Uhm, the pie…?” Kris asked, an octave higher than they would have liked it coming out. They cleared their throat.
“Yeah?” Dess answered, her bed creaking as she climbed onto it. “You’ll get it, just chill.”
Kris blinked at her from their spot by the door, and Dess patted the open space beside her on the bed sheets. It was simple gesture, a simple invite, and it had the brunette swallowing hard around the lump in their throat.
Kris stepped past numerous articles of her discarded clothing, a trash can with the bag beside it rather than in, a lonely shoe without its pair, stacked dirty dishes, and various open, empty CD cases. Navigating her unkempt bedroom until they were right beside the edge of the bed. They felt stiff, standing awkwardly in front of her, both hands out in front of them with one holding their glass of water and the other the fork. Thankfully, Dess redirected their attention to the nightstand to their right, pushing aside empty soda cans to give them ample space for their items.
“Take a seat.” There was a crinkle and a pop as Dess opened the family-sized bag of potato chips, crunching following soon thereafter as she indulged. Obediently once more, Kris did as they were asked and climbed to take the spot next to her, careful of their motion on the bed so as to not disturb her towering stack of food.
“Are you gonna eat all this…?” Kris asked incredulously, eyeing each item as they settled in beside her, bringing their knees up to their chest. They were mindful of their place in Dess’ bedroom, trying to take up as little space as possible on her mattress. It didn’t feel as plush as Noelle’s bed, Kris noted, they could feel a few of the springs inside the mattress poking them in the butt as they shifted to get comfortable.
“Haha, maybe. I dunno.” From the look of her bedroom, this definitely wasn’t the first time she’s had a ‘late night snack’, Kris deduced.
“How can you even eat this much…”
“Uh, first of all, rude,” Dess answered back, her words a little garbled from the chips, “Second of all…” the bed creaked as the doe leaned forward towards the edge of her bed, hand reaching for the handle of the drawer on her nightstand. Kris listened to her rummage around through various items of hers that they couldn’t see— their vision was focused in on the small bit of brown fur of her lower back, visible from her tank top riding up slightly, the hem of her pants bowing in the middle under the weight of her tail and revealing the small black band of her underwear. Kris swallowed and glanced elsewhere, eyes skimming the stars that lined the walls of her bedroom instead.
Black keratin fingers suddenly obstructed their view, and clutched in between her thumb and index finger lied a small, rectangular object. Kris backed their head up a few inches, letting their eyes readjust and focus in on it, eyebrows furrowing under their hair.
“A vape…?” Kris asked.
“Mmh, close. A dab pen.” Dess brought it up to her lips, and with it Kris’ attention. They watched wordlessly as the light on the front of it blinked, the atomizer glowing a bright blue and reflecting the shine on her buck teeth as she took a pull. A moment later, she exhaled the smoke in the air, Kris catching only a small sniff of the rather inoffensive scent before it all dissipated. The doe gave a wheeze, quickly fending off a cough with a few gulps from one of the sodas on her nightstand.
“Don’t tell my mom about this,” Dess began, clearing her throat with a muffled cough on the back of her hand, “I mean it, Kris. She’ll kick my ass, and then I’ll kick your ass.” It wasn’t an empty threat— there was a particular scar on Kris’ head, an injury from their childhood, that could attest to that.
In reply, the brunette raised their hands defensively, giving an understanding nod, the corners of their lips quirking up into a small smirk.
“Got it.”
Dess gave them a grin right back, her arm suddenly snaking around their back to pull them in closer, patting their side in approval. The vape suddenly came back into Kris’s view, inches from their face like it had been a moment prior when Dess first presented it to them.
“Want a hit?” She asked, emphasizing her words by waving it in front of their eyes. “This pie really hits when you’re high.”
Kris could feel a blush creep to their cheeks, their heart jumping to their throat at the offer. Their lips pursed, they looked down at it in her hand, making no move to reach for it. They’d never smoked before— an e-cig, sure, Kris had taken a puff on more than one occasion on Catti’s vape behind the diner, and while they enjoyed the temporary swimming feeling nicotine gave them, it subsided after a few seconds and was not at all comparable to the feeling of being high. Or so they were told.
“Azzy used to hit this and get so paranoid he wouldn’t want to leave my bed, haha.” She squeezed their hip, and Kris’ breath caught in their throat..
“Something tells me you’d handle it a little better.”
The pen was placed in Kris’ palm, and their mind went blank, frozen with inaction. They’d always been curious about smoking, always wanted to try it, but now being put on the spot and given the opportunity to, they wished they’d been given a heads up, the anxiety of it making their hands sweat. But it was Dess who’d offered it to them and, desperately seeking her approval, wanting to prove to the older doe that they were mature and cool and could totally handle something like this, Kris brought the drip tip to their lips.
“You ever smoked before?” Dess asked.
“Not weed.” Kris responded, talking around the mouth piece.
“‘Kay, it’s the same thing as any other vape. Suck on it and blow it out. This thing doesn’t have a smell, which is nice.”
Kris had one last opportunity to bail. To give Dess back her pen, to leave her room, to go back to bed. But their will wasn’t strong enough against Dess’ watchful, anticipating gaze, and Kris took a pull from the pen before they could double back.
The inhaled smoke is warm when it hits the back of their throat, continuing to rush in as it filled their lungs. The brunette inhaled on the piece for a few seconds before the warmth turned quickly to an itching, impossible to ignore burn, constricting their breathing, and it all came rushing out of them in a sudden cough that sounded more like choking than an actual cough.
“SSSHH!!” Dess reprimanded, though the wide grin on her face would have Kris believing she was far more amused than angry. Kris didn’t catch the grin anyway, hunched over coughing into their hands, the burning aggravated by their fit. There was a sudden pounding in their head that they could feel in their teeth and the back of their skull, the feeling unlike any headache they’d ever had before. There was a wave of dizziness, a slight hurdle of nausea, and their ears felt like they’d been stuffed full with cotton as Dess’ muffled voice tried to speak to them.
“Your face is so red, haha! Jeeze, kid!” A hand clapped them on the back, the shockwave reverberating through their body, making them clench their hands into tight fists in the bed sheets to keep themselves from falling over. Kris was still breathing labored and ragged, struggling to get a satisfactory breath in or out with the burning that still sears their throat.
Things that happened just moments ago felt hours away, their memory and perception beginning to fail them. Dess was speaking to them again, and Kris turned their head to stare at her through blurry eyes behind messy bangs, but she didn’t sound the least bit intelligible.
“What…??”
“I said, ‘do you want your water?’” She has the glass in her hand, eyebrow quirked. Kris took it without hesitation, immediately taking a large gulp, reveling in the brief, soothing relief it gives them before drinking more. They could feel their heartbeat pounding in the burning sensation in their throat, in their fingers that held the cold glass, and under Dess’ palm that rubbed gentle circles into their back. Everything, all of a sudden, felt like too much at once.
“…This feels weird, Dess. I feel weird.”
“Well, you’re high.”
“No, I feel like I’m gonna puke.”
“Definitely don’t do that in my bed.” Dess laughed.
Kris shook their head at her, thrusting the glass of water back into her hands, frustrated that she was dismissing their concerns so quickly. They bowed their head, fingers squeezing her bedsheets until their knuckles turned white, and their heart thudded hard and quick in their ears and against their ribs, loud enough for the doe to hear.
They were being moved suddenly, pulled, directed, laid down. Red and green gingham filled their view, their head meeting and cushioning on something soft. Black fingers carded through their messy dark brown hair, the action as soothing as it was tempestuous. Kris’ thoughts ran a mile a minute, but nothing coherent could be picked from their scattered brain.
Dess comforted them through the first few minutes of their high, Kris’ head laid on her lap, her hands brushing through their hair. Kris could recall only one other time they’d ever been in this sort of position with her before, and it was when they were much, much younger. Dess had pushed them off the tire swing and they’d scraped both elbows. She’d sat with them in the grass then, letting them cry into her pants as she soothingly patted their head, telling them it was going to be okay. She’d probably only comforted them then so Kris didn’t run off and wail to Carol or Toriel— what was her reasoning now?
“You’re just greening out a little— but you’re super tense. You need to breathe and relax, dude.”
“Easier said than done…”
That made Dess chuckle, Kris’ head bouncing slightly in her lap from the motion of her laughter.
“I guess so— Az acted literally the same way the first time he got high. I had to hold him for like, a straight hour.”
A beat passed, but Kris can tell she’s going to continue, and they remain quiet.
“I miss him… I should be there at college with him now, but, I dunno… It didn’t feel right leaving when mom’s got her hands full with political stuff and dad’s sick in the hospital. Didn’t feel right leaving Noelle to deal with all of that on her own.” Her shoulders gave a shrug.
“It’s boring without him here, though. Not the same. I have a bunch of shows and video games I can’t finish, because I’m supposed to wait for him so we can go through ‘em together. What a jerk, we’re on the final boss of Dragon Blazers I remastered, and now I have to wait four months for him to come home for the holidays to finish it??”
Kris listened to Dess ramble, and despite the subject matter, her words soothed the panic in their chest the more she went on. Dess was opening up to them— she was being vulnerable, venting, letting out personal thoughts, all the while running her fingers across their scalp. They shivered.
“You know, you remind me of him in a lot of ways.”
Kris perked up.
“For starters, you’re both huge pussies when it comes to smoking, haha.”
The brunette turned their head in her lap, to glance up at her, their bangs parting perfectly to reveal one ruby eye. It was narrowed, the brow furrowed in irritation.
“Hahaha-! I’m just messing around, chill out.”
Kris turned their head back.
“Seriously, though… like… especially now… Even beyond just being quiet, you act just a little… off. Awkward, unsure how to carry yourself. Like Asriel did when we were in High School. But you’re funny, like really funny, it comes out of nowhere. You guys are both good at drawing, and you both like the same shows, the same music, same games… you even wear his clothes,”
Kris looked down at their outfit, the short-term memory that kicked in after smoking making them forget what pajamas they currently had on. It was one of Asriel’s old, faded video game shirts, and a pair of his black pajama pants stamped with the various faces of the Ice-E’s Mascot in an all-over pattern.
“You guys have the same smell… the Dreemurr smell. It’s nice.”
Dess leaned over, and Kris went stiff. Her moist, burgundy red nose pushed into their hair, inhaling their scent.
“I see Toriel is still buying the exact same apple shampoo she’s been getting for you for the last ten or so years.”
Kris felt vulnerable, a red-hot heat making their cheeks flush. Dess clocked it immediately.
“Your brother flustered easily, too.”
Kris wasn’t sure what to make of this comment; it was a bit difficult to think straight anyway, what with their inebriation, but also because the older doe was now curled over them slightly, a lot closer to their face now that they’d just come from sniffing their hair. Her deep brown eyes were lidded, sclera pink, and the corners of her lips upturned into a soft smirk. Kris turned slightly in her lap, lying flat on their back, meeting her gaze fully.
“… You’re growing up well, Kris.” The words are spoken softly, for their ears only. The brunette’s eyes focused on her lips, black lipstick she forgot to remove slightly faded. A black keratin index finger touched their chin then, tracing their bony jaw, all the way up to one ear, and then back down their jawline and around to the other. Noticeably, they shivered in her lap, goosebumps popping up on their arms. Their mouth opened, but no words followed.
“Got a nice jawline, good facial structure… still got those soft round cheek, but I think it plays in your favor. Makes you cute.”
There was no hiding any sort of blush that crept to Kris’ cheeks moving forward. Not with Dess this close to them. And closer still, she was growing closer.
“Could stand to wash your hair a bit more frequently. The shaggy look is in style right now. Especially with your emo-ass expression, red eyes… shit could be lethal.” Dess chuckled after she spoke, her laughter once again bouncing Kris’ head slightly in her lap.
“You’ll kill it with the chicks at college. Or dudes. Or whatever you like.” The doe shrugged. “Just make sure to leave some for the rest of us.” Closer still, inches to centimeters. Jet black hair tickled Kris’ cheeks. The brunette had to remind themself to breathe, in through the nose and out, to calm their nerves, their pounding heart, their racing mind. Thoughts crashed into other thoughts, crafting new, messy ideas. The sort of thoughts Kris daydreamed about during their pre-teen years that bled into now— what her lips would feel like, taste like. How soft and warm her fur would be under their clammy fingertips. Having Dess’ attention all to themself. Having Dess all to themself.
“Can I try something?”
Dess spoke, her voice hushed, tickling their cheek as the breath behind her words hit their skin.
Kris nodded. And then it happened.