Chapter Text
“Hey there.”
Hop finally stops panicking for a moment at the sight of all those people thanks to a firm hand reaching into the booth where he’s currently flailing in place for balance. The hand grabs hold of Hop at the wrist by the Wooloo fleece lining of his jacket; it’s all that keeps Hop steady enough that he doesn’t actually fall backward onto the staircase and land on his rear end on top of everything else that’s happened in the last ten minutes.
…These people do know this isn’t some line to get into, like, the building, itself, right? Hop has to wonder once more with faint desperation, panicked at the idea of having to explain to every single person (many of whom he recognizes) in the line ahead that they’re waiting on a dead end. That this isn’t some stand set up to get a famous person’s autograph or…or…whatever.
Hop feels his face heating up much too fast and he opens his mouth to say defensively as he coughs into his free hand, he didn’t mean to get so worked up, okay, there was a misunderstanding. Wanting to salvage some dignity and also thank the stranger that saved him from falling.
(Even as it slips his mind that said stranger logistically is the most likely candidate for the source of the now-flashing lights blinding everyone in viewing distance as they flash across the booth in a wave pattern to signify that an amount of Watt has been paid through successfully via the card reader. Why did the MC people implement that? Why!?)
Hop takes a deep breath to compose himself, looks up. The awkward apology-slash-reassurance dies on his lips, and he can only blink at the confident face smiling back at him. Hop is stunned by who he’s face-to-face with on the opposite side of the booth.
The stylish shades are as much of a tell as the gelled, golden hair of the man that’s holding Hop still by the arm to keep him upright. The older trainer’s got Hop’s wrist in a firm, but not too-hard grip, clutching as a support the denim fabric of Hop’s jacket in one broad hand.
“Come on, now, take a deep breath,” the man says lightly, finally letting go once it’s apparent Hop’s regained his balance for good. “Focus, now. You’re all right.”
Hop opens his mouth—to say what, he’s absolutely no idea—but then Gordie throws back his head in a laugh that oh-so-perfectly flips his blond hair behind his head, before letting it flop back to settle in place as a flawless wave framing his round face just above his shoulders.
Leaving Hop quite silent and red-faced, all too aware by now that Gordie must have been the one to swipe his League Card through the reader a moment ago while Hop was busy tripping all over himself—not that Hop has the least clue why the Rock-type specialist is wasting his money.
“Wouldn’t have figured you as the type, to be intimidated by a little fall,” Gordie teases, obviously remembering Hop’s disastrous first run at Circhester Stadium—Melony had been running the Gym, then, still, but that doesn’t mean her kids weren’t privy to watch, estranged or not. Hop’s face grows even warmer with embarrassment, and he can only hope that his complexion’s enough to hide it.
“Anyway. Thought it was going to be Gloria here, but this works out even better—more representation for my fans that, y’know, battle for both sides sends a good message, I don’t publicize that size of myself enough. And this way, my Gym Trainers don’t get jealous! Couldn’t say why, though…” Gordie says in all a rush, clapping his hands and rubbing them together with a pleased expression.
The Gym Leader pulls out a hand mirror from somewhere and starts adjusting the front locks of his hair without even glancing at Ho, like they’re talking about something completely inconsequential.
“And if Melony gets into a tizzy over it, all the better,” Gordie says, grin going a bit mischievious. “Plus, I admire a guy that’s not afraid to put himself out there in the public eye to advocate for his cause. Whether it’s being the greatest battler or a top-tier researcher. It goes without saying, but you’ve got some real potential, kid.”
Gordie continues rambling, and at some point Hop out of necessity is no longer listening, just trying to find an opening in the conversation to interrupt despite the Gym Leader being more complimentary than Hop expected by…well, any amount is already a lot by far.
Hop opens his mouth to frantically try and explain that, no, it’s not him that’s doing the kissing part of the booth, the incident with Milo was a misunderstanding—
But then snaps his mouth shut. remembering Gloria wailing to him the night before her fears that Gordie would indeed corner her at the booth for a kiss.
Which, Hop would have understood on its own (the guy was too old for her, Hop thought privately, with something irritated and protective and…unhappy curling in his stomach at the thought of Gordie kissing Gloria, even though Hop had no grudges against the Rock-type Gym Leader personally. even if having a League ID technically made you an adult, regardless of when you started your challenge). That Gloria was primarily worried about kissing Gordie on the grounds of Melony being angry with her afterward is still reason enough to step in while Hop has the world’s most uncomfortable misunderstanding on his side, Hop supposes weakly.
It wasn’t like he was kissing someone weird or gross. Gordie’s just a little too…public about this stuff for Hop’s comfort.
Hop manages a smile for the Gym Leader anyway as the latter points to a couple of squealing fans holding cameras in their direction.
Well, it’s either Hop’s face or Gloria’s on the next edition of Gordie’s fan club newsletter, Hop thinks bleakly, slightly queasy at the thought of being photographed kissing someone, even if it's just Gordie in his dorky shades.
Still. Hop can take the fall for his friend on this one, he thinks, nodding up at the older man with what he hopes is an expression more impatient than nauseous.
“Don’t start second-guessing yourself now,” Gordie says calmly, as though reading his thoughts, and Hop startles a bit and stares at him. Gordie waves a hand at him dismissively, saying, “You’re adorable, you’ll do fine. Just smile for the cameras and we’ll be done in two seconds, yeah?”
Adorable?
Hop repeats the on loop in his brain for a long, stunned moment, feeling much too hot despite the February chill. He finds he is unable to do more than stare up at the Gym Leader for agape before Gordie’s pulling him in with one secure arm looped around his shoulders, and Hop has to remember how to breathe.
“Okay!” the boy holding the camera says in a high-pitched voice, teeth flashing in a dazzling smile and oh god, Hop just noticed both him and the girl next to him are both wearing T-shirts with Gordie’s face on them. “Smile, you two, it’s for a good cause! Three…two…”
Hop realizes belatedly he needs to turn his head if he’s going to meet Gordie halfway for a kiss but there’s a large hand cupping his chin before Hop can do anything. Gordie turns Hop’s face to meet him and presses their lips together, and Hop’s knees go a shaky and jellylike with his face far warmer than it had been seconds ago
FLASH!!
“Great job. You did wonderfully,” Gordie beams, ruffling Hop’s hair. Some three to four seconds have already passed while Hop is still trying to regain his bearings. Hop’s not quite certain he’s able to believe what just happened. The hand in his hair isn’t helping, for whatever reason. The playful gesture is so platonic and affectionate Hop wonders for a minute if he didn’t just imagine the kiss that happened not moments before.
Then again, for all he was blinded he was still very much able to feel the smirk of thin, smooth lips against his mouth and the large thumb stroking his chin with more affection than any semblance of mockery.
Hop can only pray he’s not completely red in the face by now. Gordie doesn’t seem to mind either way, tossing Hop a rare league card as he goes, and calling out to him with a flashing peace sign in both hands.
“Call me if you ever get bored of Dynamax research!” Gordie calls out flirtatiously as he heads up the stairs, milking the growing number of cameras in his direction and fans nearby giggling up at him for all they’re worth. “You’d crush it, working with Rock-types at Circhester Stadium…if you catch my drift.”
Hop is not entirely certain that he does.
He also thinks Gordie might be actually sincere in his offer, a thought that floods him with equal parts panic and relief that it really wasn’t Gloria standing out here instead of Hop for at least one of these customers still forming a line for some reason out beyond the booth as far as Hop can see.