Work Text:
To put it simply Brassius was tired; more so than usual. It had been days since he tried to sit down and just create art. But how could he? He had become a poet without words through a simple letter. A confession of love aimed right at him from his dearest friend; Hassel. He saw the tear marks on the page, how they warped some of the inked letters. Though it was always known that Hassel was always the emotional type; and in those emotions, he always told the truth. Twenty-six letters spanning several pages each of which he’ll never see. It felt disheartening knowing those letters ended up in the trash rather than here.
Hassle’s letters had a special place in his heart and his home. Several decorative boxes are on a bookshelf in his office right within reach of his desk. Yet the newest one sat on his waiting for a response, an answer he couldn’t figure out how to put into words. How could he put his thoughts on one page? The blank page felt like it was mocking him yet when he looked up, he was reminded why he’d been sitting there for hours. He had to write this, he just had to. He’d been here for days and still was drawing a blank. As the seconds marched a hole felt like it was growing in his chest.
He was known as an artist not a writer but at this moment he wished he was. Maybe then he could put words to these feelings; convey precisely how he feels letter for letter, word for word. But he can’t, he can’t even figure out how to say ‘hello’ at this point. Yet he’s supposed to be able to say everything he wants to say. He wished he had the confidence to just say it in person. He should get up; he thought before pushing himself away from his desk. Dragging a hand over his face he looked at the letter; mocking but comforting. He sat here all morning in hopes something would come to him; he was half-starved at this point. His head had a dull throb and his eyes burned; he needed a break or at least a change of scenery. Getting up and walking past he plucked off his desk to join him on his walk. By now he knew it word for word but reading it aloud again could hurt.
“To my dearest Braussis,” His voice had a slight rasp from not being used all morning. Though he continued walking out of his office and down the stairs. “It took me too long to finally write this. This will be number twenty-seven, I hope that it will be the last.” His steps were sluggish, and his hand was just barely on the rail. Most if not all his focus was on Hassel’s words, and Hassel’s words alone.
“I want to start by saying that I’m a coward,” He rounded the corner. “I should have much rather come to Artazon to say this to your face, but I believe you’re far too busy for my boyish feelings. Though if you would be so kind as to entertain my words.”
“It to me countless nights to finally come to terms with it all,” He grabbed the kettle off the counter. “Well, more so to finally realize I was in love with you.” He spoke quieter as he grabbed a mug from the cabinet. "I wish I could have realized before our lunch; at that small shop you love. Though I suppose I would have been so lax to knock your tea onto your clothes in my excitement. I think I was more panicked that I had really hurt you; even though it had been cold before it even graced your skin.” He spoke with a small laugh as he poured, ironically enough, a cup of tea.
“I wasn’t long before we made it to your home so you could get changed. Then I saw you in an outfit I’d never seen you in. Those PJs, the ones with smolivs on them and that black turtleneck. I could’ve sworn my blood was made of magma; I felt so flustered like it was something I should have never been able to see.” He leaned against the counter taking a small sip of his tea, burning his tongue.
“It was the most relaxed I have ever seen you, we talked for hours the only time we got up was for more tea. Do you remember I got you that electric kettle for your birthday? You claimed you would never use it and yet when I helped you get it on a timer every morning it was used.” He chuckled at the thought of Hassel sitting in his kitchen for 3 hours just to surprise him with it.
“I’ve strayed off topic again, haven’t I? I really do love you Brassius despite everything you say about yourself. You claim so many things that I have seen to be false, and yet you still claim them.” It was at that point he finally paused readings.
He knew the next part far too well. More importantly, he knew how it made him feel. Like he was worth everything the world could give. His tea tasted bitter despite it being filled with sugar and honey. He wished that it was simple to write back as it was to read this masterpiece. He took note of one of his Pokémon shuffling behind his chair, wondering what the matter was. He wished he knew that question himself; what was the matter?
“The eyes you call dead weeds are the liveliest flower garden I’ve ever seen.” To say he froze at Hassel’s voice was an understatement. “They are the true meaning of beauty, grace, and art. They’re the life I wish to live.”
He almost gave himself whiplash and his face flushed pink. “Hassel- What in the world- How are you here?” He questioned, hoping for an answer.
Yet he ignored him in favor of reaching over to touch the words on the letter next to Brassius. “I wish nothing more than to hold your hand in the way I wish for on stars. Not to guide you from place to place but much with love I wish to give you.”
“How long were you here?” He begged before he paled. “How much did you hear?” Brassius’s head felt like it was going to spin clean off his shoulders.
“You know” he started, backing up to look at Brassius in his full glory. “You walk down the stairs like a prince draped in the finest silks.” His soft smile sapped itself into his words; yet when he sighed his smile fell a bit and he leaned a hand on the back of Brassius’s chair. “I’m sorry that I didn’t warn you before I came, I got a little bold on the ride here.”
He felt sick, like he was about to vomit, but his stomach was already empty. He couldn’t breathe; why couldn’t breathe? There was a pit in his chest that was growing splitting him in two. His heart was hammering hard against his ribs. His mind was racing too fast, and he couldn’t keep up. Hassel’s saying something but he can’t hear what it is. Oh, he knew this feeling, he was going to pass out; his vision was already fading to black. He tried to warn Hassel he swears he did, but his tongue wouldn’t cooperate at all. He finally passed out with a wheeze.
The next moment he was on his couch, he felt terrible but at least he was awake. It took him a moment to finally register everything. Something on him burned on his arm but was being cooled by an ice pack, Hassle was crying somewhere on his right, and his head was pounding with a sharp pain in his temples. He didn't even want to open his eyes because he could already feel a slight burn with them closed. Yet he opened them a little to look over to his right; Hassle was crying. His eyes widened and he shot up only to daze himself, which made the pounding in his head worse. Quickly he was eased back down by unintelligible words and broken apologies.
“Brassius I’m so sorry” He sobbed as he shakily adjusted the ice pack on his arm. “I didn’t mean to; I swear I didn’t mean to. I didn’t think you’d pass out,” He tried to clear his eyes of tears, but they kept coming.
“Hassel”
He stifled trying to compose himself, “Yes?”
“I’m okay; see?” He tapped his chest as some sort of proof. “It was just a bunch of little things that caused me to pass out; And not a single one of them was you.”
Hassel only nodded before putting his head on Brassius’s shoulder. It was a peaceful quiet, but he could already feel the weight of the letter on his mind again. How should he even begin to approach the idea? He already knows his answer now, all he must do is say it. So, he cleared his throat and watched Hassel’s eye flick to his face. There were still so tears pooled at the bottom as they grouped up for their escape to become another stain
“If anything,” Hassel turned his head to look at him properly; “I should be sorry”
“What?” Hassel questioned sitting his head back off Brassius’s shoulder and rubbing his eyes.
“I never sent a letter back.” He tried to ball his hands up, but it hurt to curl his fingers; though he was still fighting to get his voice above a whisper. “I tried to think of something, anything to even start a letter. But I’m not a poet Hassel, though I swear I tried to be.”
Hassel was quiet, if anything he looked, surprised, a little confused. For the first time in many years, he was unreadable. It suddenly felt like there was a knot lodged in Brassius’s throat. Yet Hassel got this smile on his face though he tried to fight it for a minute, he lost in the end. He tried to fight his chuckles, but they quickly grew boisterous.
He felt that knot tighten. “What’s so funny?” He questioned, trying desperately to understand why. “Hassel?”
“You were always so good at writing,” His sentence was broken by a snort. “Yet here you are claiming to be bad at.” Hassel laughed even more before he took a moment just to breathe.
Brassius was left even more dazed than he already was. “But- I- What?”
“You are amazing at writing, at this point, it’s its own form of art.” He tried to point at some part of Brassius before settling to gesture at all of him. “Everything about you is art.”
“Hassel-” Brassius begged.
“Your eyes are remarkable; they’re these wonderous gray, like a rolling storm.” He was looking up like he was trying to compare his simile.
“Hassel please.” There was a wheeze in his tone.
“And your skin!” He exclaimed looking straight through Brassius’s soul before bringing his attention to his hands. “Sure, it’s pale but it reminds me of porcelain and marble. And while it may be corny, you do look a sculpture of-”
“Hassel please!”
His tight voice finally brought Hassel’s attention back to his face. To say he was crimson was an understatement. His face felt like it was boiling, and he could hear his own heart pounding. Yet Hassel looked at him in pure unbridled wonder.
“Just spare me,” He tried desperately to hide his flushed face, yet he still glanced back to Hassel. “Please.”
“Do you remember how we met?”
“What?”
“We both had that art class third period, and we were assigned to sit next to each other.”
“Hassel-”
“No, No, No,” he said quickly. “I swear I’m going somewhere with this. My friend sat next to us; the one with bright blue hair.” He pointed at his head for emphasis. “When we were talking, I accidentally hit you so hard I caused your nose to bleed. I was an embarrassed sobbing mess when I took you to the nurse, but you told me that I was an unplaceable shade of crimson. But then you said that you swore you’d seen that color before and that you’d find it again. Yet I had no idea what in the world you were talking about. Do you remember?”
“Briefly; but that still explains nothing.”
“I know what you mean by that now.” He shook his head “No; I know what that shade of crimson looks like.”
“You know,” He swallowed. “We should talk about your letter.” He spoke trying to change the subject.
“Oh, right,” he said before chuckling nervously. “that’s what we started off talking about.”
“I never gave you an answer.”
“Yes, I know. That’s what I actually came here for. As much as I love to visit-”
“You wanted to know.” Brassius finished the sentence for him, taking a long pause before continuing. “I know what I want to say, but I don’t know how to say it.”
“You know you can just say yes or no, right?”
“That feels far too simple Hass,” He exclaimed trying to make some sort of gesture with his hands. “You’re far too avant-garde for a simple yes or no.”
“What if I ask you directly instead?” He inquired. “Could you give me a yes or no then?”
“I suppose.”
“And you know you don’t have to say yes, right?”
“I know that.”
“And you know if you say no, it changes nothing between us, right?”
“I know.”
Hassel took a deep breath. “Okay,” He clapped his hands together. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Brassius, do you love me?”
“I do”
“Okay see was that hard to just say n-” He paused before sputtering. “Can you repeat that?”
“I do,” he stated firmly before thinking for a second. “Do you not believe me?”
“I honestly thought you’d say no.”
“What?”
“I don’t know!” He threw his hands up. “I thought that’s what was taking you so long. So, I thought I might as well just rip the band aid off and get it over with.”
“Hassel I was trying to think of how exactly I wanted to say it.” He said with a small laugh. “I’m just surprised that it didn’t happen earlier.”
“What do you mean.”
“Do you remember during our treasure hunt at the bottom of Glaseado mountain?” He flushed bright red again. “We shared a tent and I swear every time I looked at you, I swear was going to kiss you.”
“Brassius that was almost 30 years ago!”
“Yet my love never wavered. It just. . .” He took a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. “Persisted. Remember it use to be such a wrong thing and yet; here we are.”
“That is weird to think about, isn’t it?” Hassel said with a chuckle before sighing. “So.”
“So?”
“What do we do now?” Hassel questioned.
“I say we have something to eat; I still haven’t eaten yet.”
“Oh, for- No wonder you passed out!”
“I know. I know,” he said sitting up.
“Oh no you don’t,” he said pushing Brassius back down. “I’ll make us something, and you lay here and look as pretty as usual.”
“I-” He flushed hiding his face in his hands. “Please don’t burn the house down.
He began to start standing up. “That’s not the plan but I’ll be extra careful.” He looked down at him. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be back.”
“I know.”