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"What do you mean you've never been in a snowball fight?"
"We don't exactly get much snow where I'm from, Gare." Drew was still getting used to the obscene amount of snow in Sinnoh, something Gary had given him a hard time about since they'd become friends. The cold made him homesick sometimes—he really had taken Hoenn's warmth for granted.
Gary, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy this weather. He held a ball of snow casually in his hand, and there was a glint in his eyes that made Drew suspicious. "You do understand the concept, though, right?"
"It's pretty basic, isn't it? You throw snow at each other until somebody gets tired and gives up." Drew wasn't sure why it mattered. "I'm heading for the pokémon center, it's too cold out here to be standing around."
He should've known better than to turn his back on Gary when he had that look on his face. Drew had only taken a couple steps before something cold struck and disintegrated on his back. When he turned around, Gary was empty handed and grinning deviously, an unmistakable challenge in his eyes.
Drew looked around to confirm nobody was around to witness this moment of childishness, then looked back at Gary. "Oh, you're on. "
"That's what I like to hear!" Gary's crooked grin might've been cute were Drew not focused on the challenge. "Just don't expect any mercy."
As he grabbed a handful of snow off the ground, another snowball hit his shoulder. So Gary wasn't kidding about not showing mercy and he was fast. Which meant Drew had to either be faster or smarter—if there was one thing he'd learned from years of competing in contests, it was that you should never let your opponent set the pace.
The thing was that he actually didn't know how to do that, and he was liable to take a snowball to the face if he just stood there contemplating.
He threw his snowball, swiftly ducking to avoid Gary's and prepare another one, only to slip and practically faceplant. At least the snow was soft enough to break his fall, even if it did nothing for his bruised pride.
"Are you okay?" Gary's voice shook with a laugh he was barely containing.
"Just fine." Drew stood, brushing himself off. He had the thought to throw a snowball while Gary's guard was down and heard a muffled curse when it hit its mark. Unfortunately, it had accidentally hit its mark in the face.
Gary wiped away snow with his sleeve and gave Drew an incredulous look. Before Drew could apologize, his friend burst into a fit of laughter. "You're in for it now! I'm gonna get you for that!"
"Not if I can help it!" Drew took off running, praying he wouldn't slip, and realized he was actually starting to have fun. He hadn't thought that was possible in this weather.
He stopped to grab more ammunition, then turned around to throw it and immediately took a snowball to the face.
"Now we're even," Gary said triumphantly.
"Not for long!" Drew threw another snowball, which Gary neatly dodged before throwing his own. They continued like that a while, throwing and attempting to evade with varying degrees of success. Then Drew threw one more and bolted.
"Don't run from me, coward!" He felt the impact of a couple more snowballs before Gary apparently gave up on snow and tackled him. He really should've taken Gary's longer legs into account.
The two of them tumbled a bit before stopping and just lying there, the cold air making clouds of their heavy breaths, and Drew suddenly felt a whole lot warmer despite being surrounded by and covered in snow. Their faces were mere inches apart and for a moment he was tempted to steal a quick kiss, but he dismissed the thought. He noticed Gary looked flushed, but whether it was from the cold or exertion or something else entirely, he couldn't guess.
Gary stood and pulled Drew up, then straightened his collar as if to regain some air of maturity and dignity. "If anyone asks what happened to us, we fell in a snowdrift. Agreed?"
Drew met his eyes and nodded firmly. "Agreed."
The adrenaline fading, Drew realized just how cold and tired he was. It was going to be a long walk to the pokémon center.
At least he had company.
Even having taken a snowball to the face, Gary considered this a win. The snowball fight was fun, getting to see Drew actually enjoying something was also fun, and now they were warming up at a pokémon center. Gary had volunteered to fetch hot cocoa for the two of them, giving Drew the opportunity to get changed into some dry clothes in privacy—though that part was unsaid, Drew's grateful look had been enough of an indication that they both understood.
Carrying a cup in each hand, he stopped at the door to the room they were sharing. "Yo, Shrub, can you let me in?"
"I told you to stop calling me that!" Drew answered from the other side, the warmth in his voice unmistakable. A moment later, the door opened. Drew had taken the opportunity to change into something dry and get comfortable, a blanket draped over his shoulders and a relaxed smile on his face. "Great, you got it. Thanks, Gare." He reached for one of the cups and Gary held it just out of his reach.
"First, tell me something—who's the prettiest boy in the world?"
"Me," Drew answered without a moment of hesitation.
Gary handed it over. "Fair enough."
Drew turned around and went to sit on one of the beds. When Gary followed him, he tilted his head curiously. "Aren't you gonna change out of that?" He indicated Gary's snow-soaked clothes. "I appreciate your heroic sacrifice and all, but you'll catch cold if you stay like that."
"Catching colds from getting cold and-slash-or wet doesn't happen in real life," Gary said, immediately before sneezing. Drew raised an eyebrow. "Listen. That proves nothing."
"It proves that you should get out of those clothes." Drew took a casual sip of his cocoa, hissing when it burned his tongue.
"Hey, if you want me shirtless that badly you can just say so, " Gary said for the sole purpose of watching Drew go red and try to stammer out some form of defense. "You're cute when you're flustered. Be a dear and hold my cocoa for a sec, would you?"
Drew obliged. The color still hadn't faded from his face. Gary had meant it when he said Drew was cute, but sometimes the reality of his crush hit like his arcanine’s take down attack. Or maybe flame wheel, with how feverishly warm he felt.
Maybe Drew was right and he was getting sick. That’d be just his luck.
He shook his head to dismiss the line of thought. Dumb cute boys, always distracting him. He tugged his shirt off and tossed it aside before glancing at Drew, only to find that Drew was very deliberately looking down, expression somewhere between angry and embarrassed. Gary almost felt guilty for teasing him—playful antagonism was the basis of their friendship, but maybe he’d pushed a little too far.
"Earth to Shrub," Gary said to get Drew's attention, earning a small affirmative noise in response. "Do you still have that sweater I loaned you a while back?"
Still not looking up, Drew kicked his satchel lightly in Gary's general direction.
Gary considered himself a smart guy, but how someone whose career was built on showing off onstage—and being broadcasted while doing it—could be so shy offstage was still beyond his understanding.
That was a mystery for another time. He reclaimed his sweater—it smelled faintly like Drew, he noted, the sharp scent of roses mingling with something sweeter—and finally got to sit at Drew's side. Drew seemed to relax, looking up and returning Gary's cup. The cocoa was thankfully still warm. Drew was also warm.
"Hey, Gare?" Drew's voice was low, barely more than a murmur. "I had fun earlier."
"I could kinda tell," Gary said, taking a long drink of his cocoa and casually resting his head on Drew's shoulder. "I don't think I've ever seen you like that before."
Drew blushed, and Gary wasn't sure whether it was a reaction to the words or the sudden close contact. "I don't think I've seen you quite like that either."
"It's nice, isn't it? Acting like kids for once."
"Yeah."
They lapsed into a comfortable silence—something Gary would usually think of as a contradiction. Growing up, between him and Ash there had seldom been a quiet moment; there had been a comforting familiarity in Ash's loud laughs and passionate rambling, Gary readily filling in any gaps Ash left with dares and challenges and playful insults (which had, admittedly, become more vicious for a while). Gary sometimes caught himself rambling to no one when he was alone (or to Umbreon, when it was the two of them) because silence felt so unnatural.
Drew wasn't like that—he was quiet until he really had something to say, and spent so much time in his own head that sometimes it was hard to get him out. But sometimes you didn't need words; he rested his head against Gary's with a soft little exhale, like he was at peace for the first time in ages, and that was all the communication they needed.