He breathes into mint-green, mint-scented hair (how does he even do that? Put a random Spritzee in it? Those aren't even found in Unova!), and runs a hand through it. He always leaves it open when he sleeps.

"Black?" N asks, confused, as Black hovers over him on the bed. He's so vulnerable like this, spread out over blue sheets with his hair spilling out on the pillow like a halo. "Is something wrong?"

Black doesn't hesitate to lean in closer, and N makes a small sound of realization, an nnn, Black thinks with a little smile, and then presses back.

(Pokémon don't do this, N had argued, and Black had sighed and pressed his nose up against N's cold one, huddled up right next to their sleeping Pokémon - Jack and Victini still managing to play around at the entrance - with the snow falling all around them, their camp set into an alcove with Reshiram's warmth - even from her Pokéball - suffusing them to the bones.

"It's called an eskimo kiss," he had explained. "You've probably seen some Pokemon do it. Like, uh, Zoroark used to, before he evolved?" Oh man, this was totally not the moment to be bringing up Zoroark.

N had frowned, and then gently, as swift as a frightened Deerling, he had brushed Black's nose and drawn away, face redder than before.

"Was that nice?" Black had asked, heart steadily thudding, afraid of the answer.)

"That was acceptable, despite the late hour," N said, running his hands up Black's arms, stopping at his shoulder. "Can we do more?"

Black grins and leans down to press his lips to N's, pleased when he promptly responds by granting him access to his mouth.

("It was," he had replied shyly – shyly! – and turned his face away but leaned against Black in the comfort of the small alcove, the storm raging outside not quite enough to drown out the sound of Black's own unsteady heartbeat.)

He draws back, nipping at his boyfriend's lower lip one last time, drawing out a small squeak. N looks up at him, light pink and light green combining in his face and hair and eyes, and he's like a little Christmas tree, Black thinks, amused, not really sure if he should be turned on by that, but he is.

N is entirely lovely.

"I like the eskimo kisses best," he says, his mouth in a pout.

Black laughs and leans down to brush his nose against N's again. They're both a long way from that kind of intimacy still, and it's definitely not going to happen here, in a cramped bed in a Pokémon Center while Jack and Victini snore next to them.

"I know, I know."

Black won't admit it - his nineteen-year old libido won't, either, but he kind of likes it best too. It was his first kind of kiss, after all.


(personal headcanon thing: Black is afraid of N's Zoroark because he's convinced it'll try to kill him for stealing N's innocence. It's the same reason that Hugh is afraid of Nate's Zorua/later Zoroark as well. Or Rosa's, whatever floats your boat. Also, again, Jack is Touya's Samurott.)