Work Text:
Red is the first one to leave his mark. The very day he moved into their new home, Red dips a paintbrush into a tub of sunflower yellow. High up on the wall, he paints his name in smooth, neat characters. He looks to Green, the corners of his lips quirking up, and he nods encouragingly towards the wall.
“We’re going to need to buy Silver some more paint,” Green mutters, even as he selects purpureus purple. He hums as he thinks. “Be right back.” He leaves the hall momentarily and returns with the stool. Red raises his eyebrow, but Green doesn’t look at him. Instead, he stands up on the stool and paints his name with a practiced flourish. He turns to Red and smirks. “What do you think about that?” He’s met with the amused huffs, laced at the edges with a rough voice, and his heart flutters. The impulse to lean over and kiss him returns, and the realization that he can do that now washes over him. So he does just that, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s neck. As eager as he is inexperienced, Red pulls Green in and pushes too hard into the kiss. Green laughs, full of warmth and adoration, and he takes Red’s face in his hands to soften it.
Blue and Yellow visit the next day, and they’re each greeted with a paintbrush. Blue takes the pot of bright turquoise blue while Yellow chooses cotton candy pink. For a long moment, Blue considers the paintbrush, then she sets it down. Instead, she dips her fingers in the jar before painting her name in a hasty script. Yellow laughs and copies her, leaving their name in unpracticed letters. They pause for a moment, muttering to themself before adding a flower.
“Hey!” Blue nudges them. “You can’t be so cutesy on your own!”
“Then you do something,” they encourage.
“I will!” She adds a heart, just in time for Green to bring refreshments.
When he sees their paint-covered hands, he frowns. “Is that safe?”
Blue shrugs, and Yellow looks to their hands. “I dunno. Ask my brother.”
“Go wash your hands!” Green shoos them towards the kitchen. Once they leave, he turns back to Red with a sigh. “Will she ever think things through?” Red shrugs in reply, a faint smile on his lips. Green can’t help it–he gives Red a quick kiss.
Crystal, Gold, and Silver are their next guests. Gold tries to dive for the paint before everyone else, but Red intercepts him and throws him over his shoulder. All of his whining and hitting of Red’s back goes completely ignored. While Gold sulks, Crystal dips her brush in the ruby pink paint and writes her name with messy characters. Silver takes his time mulling over the jars, prompting Gold to whine at him.
“You just wanna see me suffer!”
“No,” Silver replies. “That’s just a bonus.” Gold crosses his arms and grumbles. Eventually, Silver relents and picks up the carmine red.
Red catches Green’s eye and nods to Silver. “Oh, yeah, almost forgot. Silver, are the paints toxic?”
He turns to look at him. “It depends on the pigment. Some of them are toxic. I don’t know which ones.” He narrows his eyes. “Why?”
“Blue.”
“Ah.” As Green suspected, that was sufficient enough explanation.
“What should we do for our pokemon, then? We want to put their prints up there.”
“I have tempera paint that is non-toxic.” He puts the acrylic paint down and sorts through his bag. Gold’s continued whining goes ignored, but it doesn’t take terribly long for Silver to locate the paints. He sets them on the nearby table, smirking as he locks eyes with Gold. "Ah, if you want the detail of their paws, just use the ink pads that you use in your research." With that, he mercifully returns to the task of leaving his name on the wall in graceful strokes.
Finally, finally Gold is freed from his captivity. He immediately nabs the jet black and the widest brush he can. Red sighs and leans against Green as they watch him rush to paint his name in large, bold letters. This time, Red steals a kiss from his boyfriend, sending a rude gesture Gold's way when he starts gagging dramatically.
When Wataru visits, Silver accompanies him at their request. Upon his entrance, Wataru immediately sweeps Green into his arms. “You are making a wonderful life for yourself,” he murmurs. “I’m so proud of you.” The other two pretend to ignore how Green clings to him.
Silver goes to change, Wataru selects his paint. He stares at the wall, considering his options. Then, just as Green did, he finds the stool. Silver returns in his paint-stained clothes just in time to find Green expressing his displeasure at the location of the neat golden yellow name.
“You can’t just put it on the ceiling!”
“It would seem I just did,” Wataru retorts with a smirk. “And in this competition, that makes me the winner.”
“There’s no competition for who puts their name up the highest!” Red and Silver exchange a knowing look.
Wataru hums, glancing at Green’s name on the wall. “Then I suppose it’s a coincidence that your name is in a location that you can’t reach from the ground, and it just so happens to be higher up than Red’s name.”
Silver rolls his eyes, ties up his hair, and gathers his supplies. “Can you two bicker away from my work space?” With half-apologies, they get out of his way and allow him to start adding portraits next to the paw prints of Red and Green’s pokemon.
But Red had a request for him. While Green is distracted, Silver pulls a picture from his pocket and begins to replicate the stamp of a raticate’s paw print.
Within the month, the wall is covered in the names of their friends and pictures of their pokemon. Akane, Tsukushi, Mimic Girl, Hayato, Takeshi, too many for them to bother to count. Photographs and bookshelves line the rest of the rooms, berry trees in full bloom welcome passing trainers, and the scent of chocolate and vanilla and cinnamon warms their house. Green further relaxes under Red’s comforting weight, carding his fingers through his messy hair, stopping and starting over each time he reaches a knot. Red sighs softly and briefly tightens his arms around Green’s waist.
“Hey,” Green nearly whispers. Red looks up to him with sleep-heavy eyes, and Green can’t help but chuckle. “I just wanted to say thanks. For everything.” The tip of Red’s head has him simmering with affection. “I know I’m a pain in the a–” Red cuts him off with a gentle press of their lips and a firm squeeze of his cheeks. “Alright, alright!” He takes Red’s hands off his face. “Anyways.” The flex of Red’s fingers is a threat, if Green starts talking down on himself again. “You really make me happy. I’m just thankful for that.” He smiles warmly. “I love you.” Red squeezes Green’s hand as he places it over his own heart.