Work Text:
I.
Baked beans for dinner is decidedly the least attractive meal in history, and yet—Eijirou watches in fascination.
Not the canned food, per se, but rather the way Denki prepares it, and how he sticks his tongue out in concentration as he tries hard not to burn their food for the night. Not for the first time, Eijirou reflects on how cute Denki is as the blonde pokes around with the wooden spoon he had conveniently brought along.
“Dude,” Denki giggles, “this dinner is going to suck, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Eijirou reassures. He throws a small stick into the campfire as he fights off a smirk. “I knew that when you offered to cook.”
“Dick,” Denki laughs, miming a kick at Eijirou. Eijirou feigns an injured expression and presses a hand against his chest, which only makes Denki laugh harder.
Eijirou grins, enamored by Denki’s innocent happiness. His heart feels so very warm.
He’s so fun to travel with, Eijirou thinks.
And, suddenly; more quietly:
I would go anywhere with him.
Sandshrew makes a small noise from its resting spot beside Eijirou, startling its trainer. It gives itself a little shake before ambling to Denki. Sandshrew looks up at Denki in adoration, clearly pleading for his affection.
“Hi there,” Denki whispers, petting the top of Sandshrew’s head with one hand as a fond smile blooms on his face. He looks so—soft like that, gorgeous and relaxed against a backdrop of stars, the light from the fire casting his cheeks in a rosy glow.
It hits Eijirou all at once. Like a rampaging Nidoking.
A crush, Eijirou realizes. Because—it’s not exactly just ‘friendly’ to think that your bro is prettier than the twinkling points in the night sky, is it?
(But, god, Denki is.)
Sandshrew trills under Denki’s touch.
II.
Eijirou has just come to the Earth-shattering realization that his feelings for his best friend haven’t been completely platonic. It’s no big deal, really. Eijirou had hidden his crush on Denki from himself for the longest time; he’s confident that Denki won’t catch on, ever.
Except, his normally serene Mudsdale won’t stop making these little pleased snorts as it meanders towards the Pokémon Center about a mile away.
Eijirou is holding on firmly to the reins, but can’t seem to get a grip on his wildly beating heart as Denki shifts behind him.
“She sounds so happy,” Denki comments, tightening his arms around Eijirou’s midsection. Mudsdale actually whinnies at that, but Eijirou is too preoccupied by the fingers brushing against his side, just a few inches away from the hem of his shirt.
Please, Denki, Eijirou begs in his head, the burning in his cheeks rivaling the heat from the desert sun. I don’t think I can take much more.
Of course, his (unknowingly?) cheeky best friend presses even closer.
“Ah, Denki—are you good back there?” Eijirou croaks. Plusle, who perched itself on Mudsdale’s head at the beginning of their journey, turns back to reply with a small squeal. It slides down Mudsdale’s neck to pat Eijirou’s hands, on which his knuckles have begun to turn white.
Plusle’s trainer, on the other hand, only hums as he rests his chin on Eijirou’s shoulder.
Fuck me, right, Eijirou exhales shakily, doing his best to guide Mudsdale, who has started to trot jauntily.
III.
“Time to groom ya, buddy,” Eijirou calls, releasing his Bonsly from its Poké Ball. To Eijirou’s slight horror, Bonsly waddles quickly to Denki and rubs like a cat against his leg. Like every other time, Denki scoops him up with a grin.
“Hi there, buddy,” Denki greets, easily adopting Eijirou’s pet name. He chuckles when Bonsly nestles against his jaw in response.
“Sorry, Denki. I don’t know why he keeps doing that,” Eijirou laughs sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.
It’s obviously a lie, because Eijirou knows exactly why. Every time they stop to groom their Pokémon, Eijirou inevitably thinks about how just how horribly domestic he and Denki are as they pass brushes and berries to each other in practiced motions. And then, for some reason, the thought of sharing a well-worn routine, like a married couple preparing breakfast in the mornings, leads to several more thoughts about wanting to cuddle Denki.
His Pokémon are naturally going to feel all of that, too. Clearly Bonsly does, as it nuzzles Denki’s cheek without a care. He hates to admit it, but Eijirou is slightly envious.
The envy must be showing on his face, because Denki turns to him with a mischievous smirk. “If you want me to hold you, too, you can just ask.”
Eijirou sputters, clutching the towel in his hands to his chest.
He almost takes Denki up on his offer.
Luckily, Plusle chooses then to jump onto Eijirou’s shoulder and enthusiastically hug his face. Despite his nerves, Eijirou laughs warmly. He can hear Denki snickering in the background as Eijirou reaches up to gently rub Plusle’s floppy ears, trying to coax it to come down.
Eijirou doesn’t mind the dirty fur, even if some of it is getting into his mouth. It’s a smart one, that Plusle—seems to instinctively know just how much of a weak spot Eijirou has for it (and its trainer).
IV.
He should be diligently watching over Rockruff and making sure it isn’t digging holes in the well-maintained field, but he can’t stop sneaking glances at Denki.
As covertly as he can, at least. Eijirou likes to think he’s somewhat successful at it, because Denki doesn’t move away or give him any weird looks. He simply sits there, sprawled on the grass and hair windswept, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. His side presses absently against Eijirou’s.
Against his will, Eijirou’s gaze drifts to Denki’s lips, and for a split second he thinks about the cherry blossom trees in bloom this month, the delicate, falling petals.
Rockruff’s ears perk as it stands to attention and interrupts its own playtime.
Oh. Oh no.
Eijirou moves to intercept but Rockruff is too quick, running towards Denki and tackling him to the ground.
“Rockruff, careful!” Eijirou yelps, frightened by the thud of Denki’s back against the soil. Eijirou instinctively leans over Denki as he frantically checks for signs of pain.
There are clearly none, however, because Denki is laughing, breathless, face pink from exertion as he tries to simultaneously hug and tame the squirming, excited Pokémon in his arms.
“Who’s a good boy, huh? You’re a good boy,” Denki coos, which causes Rockruff to wag its tail harder. Rockruff playfully woofs, licking the side of Denki’s face in earnest. “Oh, yeah? You wanna kiss me, don’t you?” Denki teases.
Except, Denki doesn’t look at Rockruff as he says it.
Denki stares straight at Eijirou.
Beautiful Denki, with his bright hair fanned out on green grass, the apples of his cheeks dark. Beautiful Denki, with a smile now carrying just a hint of nervousness, gazing at Eijirou like Eijirou is the moon.
Eijirou never stood a chance.
I do, Eijirou aches. I really, really want to kiss you.
And, as if pulled by gravity—
Eijirou begins to lean down.
(Denki’s eyes flutter shut, and Eijirou’s chest tightens.)
(He wonders if Denki’s mouth is as soft as a cherry blossom.)
(He could find out. He’s so close. He’s right there.)
(And—)
Rockruff chooses that exact moment to wriggle away.
It sneaks out of Denki’s now loose hold and startles both of them, Denki’s eyes flying open in surprise. Eijirou breaks out of his trance and realizes that he nearly went ahead and ruined his relationship with his best friend.
With as much fortitude as he can muster, Eijirou swallows his longing back before it can escape.
When he offers a hand to Denki to help him up, Denki seems vaguely disappointed.
V.
“Do you like me, Eijirou?”
Denki asks without preamble as he cradles Eijirou’s Cubone in his arms, the tiny one snoozing peacefully. Denki cocks his head at him, legs loosely crossed on the ground, as if he’d just inquired about which Gym they’ll head to next instead of Eijirou’s weeks-long crisis.
“Like, like-like,” Denki clarifies needlessly. “Like, wanna-mate-with-me-like-a-Pokémon-like.”
“Denki!” Eijirou cries, embarrassed and feeling not unlike a Stantler in the headlights. Because, while the wording is a bit risqué, Denki isn’t exactly wrong.
Eijirou has half a mind to run away from this conversation quite literally, except Plusle is curled up in Eijirou’s lap in its own nap, and Eijirou would never want to disturb Plusle’s much-needed sleep.
Denki smiles patiently at him. If he is anxious at all, he does his best not to show it, his arms remaining soft and pliant for Cubone to rest well in. That’s just how Denki is—always showing maximum consideration for Eijirou and his Pokémon. So manly, and kind, and mischievous wonderful perfect.
I think I almost love you, Eijirou thinks hopelessly.
“Okay, fine,” Eijirou flushes, absently smoothing a hand over Plusle’s fur. “Yes. I like you, Denki.”
Denki’s face lights up, like the sun. Before Eijirou can so much as react, Denki quickly schools his expression and leans in close, face hovering just a few inches from Eijirou’s.
“I adore you,” Denki declares. Like it’s easy.
Cubone snuggles further in Denki’s arms, even as its trainer is currently experiencing a full-on freak-out.
“Uh,” Eijirou utters intelligently.
“Eijirou—come on, why do you think Plusle loves to be spoiled by you specifically?“
“I dunno,” Eijirou panics a little, flustered by Denki’s proximity. “I always thought that—you know—that Plusle thought I was an easy mark!”
Denki snorts, biting his lip to prevent obnoxious laughter from escaping. Eijirou pouts at him, but in truth he is mesmerized by the telltale twinkle of mirth in Denki’s eyes. They seem so fond, crinkling at the edges—like Denki can’t believe Eijirou is an idiot. His idiot.
(He is one, to be fair, wasting all this time spluttering when Denki has purposefully remained within kissing distance for the last two minutes.)
“Stop,” Eijirou groans, finally throwing caution to the wind and pressing his forehead against Denki’s. The delighted giggle from Denki tells him it’s the right move. “I’m sorry for being so slow,” he apologizes, letting a wider smile overtake his face, and Denki surges forward to peck him on the nose.
“Well, you have the rest of our journey to make it up to me,” Denki grins.
Eijirou allows his breath to ghost over Denki’s mouth. “Do I?” he teases.
Denki whines indignantly. Eijirou laughs, relieved and happy, cradling Denki’s face to kiss him for real, now.
(He finds out that Denki’s lips are as soft as cherry blossom petals. Maybe even softer, after a while.)
VI.
Much to Denki’s amusement, Eijirou and Sandshrew frequently engage in mini squabbles to compete for who could hug Denki the most in one day.
Eijirou is glad his buddy can’t count, as it’d surely be upset to know that Denki always lets Eijirou win. Just by a bit.