Chapter Text
It was a little strange, he thought, to let go of everything and just be at ease. It wasn’t something he was familiar with. He was either a crybaby or the one with anger issues. Now he found that he could just be. Cal sat at one of the tables with Shelly, Heather and Charlotte, sipping a cold drink that had long since become watered down by the ice.
The nightclub was lively, bright lights and loud music; it was different from the Ametrine frost he was used to, or the dull Team Meteor hideouts he'd reluctantly become accustomed to. It was a good kind of different.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when a bubbly voice rang in his ear.
"Hey! You're Cal, right?"
It was Cain. Cal remembered seeing him a couple times. He wasn't the kind of person you could just forget. Once the Champion got him out of that weird nothing-space, he seemed right at home in a place like the nightclub. Cal spotted him on the dance floor more often than not, dancing like there was no tomorrow and only sometimes tripping on the large platform boots he wore that resulted in him landing right on his ass. Yeah, definitely someone you couldn't forget.
"Uh, yeah. That's me. Did you need something, Cain?"
The former gym leader played with his fringe, looking up at Cal through his eyelashes. "Well… maybe there's something you can help me with. You're a fire-type trainer, right? That gets pretty hot, huh?" A playful smirk pulled at his lips. Was he wearing lipgloss?
Cal raised his eyebrows, confused as to where this line of questioning was going. "Yes? Yes. I don't like the cold very much."
Cain moved the fingers that were playing with his fringe to the cuff of Cal's sleeve. His nails were painted black. "Oh, I get that. Well, you see, I like things kinda hot, too."
"Y-yeah?" His face was getting warm. He could probably blame it on the lights.
Cain nodded. "Mhm. And y'know, Cal, your fire-types aren't the only things about you that are hot." Cain was touching the inside of his wrist now, the slightest brush of skin and Cal felt like he was going to boil from the inside. Distantly, he could hear Charlotte's mean, mean laughter.
He swallowed. "Um. Um, that's- that's kinda- I sorta- you're- um…" No dice. He couldn't get a single word out. Cain LaRue was openly flirting with him and he couldn't form even the most basic of sentences.
The soft touch was gone, leaving Cal's wrist feeling like it was burning. Cain mirrored his puzzled look from earlier. "Are you not interested? Victoria told me-" He stopped himself, making a face that looked like he likely regretted starting that sentence. Cal wasn't bothered if Victoria told Cain that he was gay, it wasn't a closely kept secret or anything. It was just never really relevant before, all things considered.
"I mean- yeah, I am. I just- uh. Um…" Cal fucking Whitaker.
"Oh! Is it me? Sorry, was I coming on too strong? I had that pickup line ready forever; it was just too good to waste."
Cal fought the urge to bury his face in his hands. "No, you're fine! It's just, ahh… Sorry, this doesn't happen very often."
"Really? I heard you were quite popular at Apophyll."
"Yeah. With girls. Not the gender I'm actually attracted to." He felt some of his nerves start to settle. Cain was so casual about everything it was hard not to relax a little.
There was a giggle, a bit soft and light. Cain rested one of his hands on top of his. "Hm, I get it. Sort of. I just like people, but I've definitely gotten attention from some people I'm not interested in. I meant what I said, though. I think you're pretty cute. If you wanna get out of here and go out sometime, I think it'd be fun!"
Cal nodded, finally managing a smile through the avoided disaster that was having a genuine interaction with someone else. "Yeah, I actually think I would like that. You're- uh, you're cute, too." There went his insides melting again.
Cain leaned in a little closer, a playful glint in his eye. "Great. And, well, if it doesn't work out… I guess I could always try my luck with your brother, right?"
He was joking. He had to be. He had to be so, obviously joking.
Cal's eyes drifted to where Blake was sitting, doing shot after shot of tequila with that weird lime and salt combo he didn't understand. He could hear Blake's grating voice shout enthusiastically after the round was done, crudely crunching on some ice as a reward.
Cal thought he was going to be sick.
He looked back to Cain, hoping he wasn't green in the face, knowing for a fact he couldn't hide his expression. "That… that might be the most disgusting thing anyone has ever said to me before in my life."
Cain erupted with laughter, leaning against Cal for support while holding his stomach. He was shaken from his stupor after a moment by Cain, who reassured him that he was, in fact, joking about asking Blake on a date.
Freshly mortified, Cal was convinced that Cain LaRue had the absolute worst sense of humor.
At least he was pretty.