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The ship looms over them, sinking Red’s heart. He watches the other boy wipe his hands on his pants. Surely, Green is feeling the same. Old wounds tear open, even after three years. He reaches for a clammy hand as they step aboard.
When they reach their assigned room, Green yawns, perhaps a tad exaggerated. “I’m going to take a nap.” To be fair, it was awfully early when they awoke. It’s possible that he didn’t even sleep at all last night. But Red knows that’s not all there is to it. So, when Green crawls into the single bed, Red hangs his hat on the post and climbs on top of him. Green doesn’t protest, doesn’t even question it, and instead drapes an arm over his shoulders. He watches him close his eyes before settling down to do the same. Listening to the steady beat of Green’s heart, he drifts off to sleep.
A hand in his hair awakens him. An unknown amount of time has passed, but grogginess still clings to him. Red blinks up at the other, and a smug grin slowly comes into focus. “Mornin’.”
How he hates when Green does that, covering up his true feelings with an annoying facade. He pulls back, but before he can even raise his hands, his world goes spinning. The carpeted floor knocks the wind out of his chest, and all he can do is let out an admittedly pathetic groan. A beat passes, and Green’s face comes back into clear view. A slacked jaw and silence twist into a wide grin and obnoxious laughter. Red purses his lips and reaches up to smack him with all of the force of a tap on the arm.
“Sorry, sorry,” Green offers through his snickers. Red’s frown deepens as he stands. When they lock eyes, he sees him struggle to contain another round of laughter. “Come on, I said I was sorry.” He rolls his eyes, and Green spreads out before their pokemon can claim the precious little space.
With a click of his tongue and wounded pride, Red retreats to the window and stares out into the night sky.
Only a few moments pass before Green speaks up. “We missed Valentine’s Day.”
Right. Something was bothering him, before Red so gracelessly fell off of the bed. He faces Green with a quirked brow and a silent question: was that really it?
“That means nothing to you, does it?” Red just shakes his head, so Green sighs. Was that the wrong answer? “Yeah, figured you still wouldn’t get it.” Green turns away and stares up at the ceiling. Definitely the wrong answer. “Have you ever even liked someone? Like, like like?”
Red ponders the meaning of the question for a moment. Like like, as in someone he likes more than anyone else? A simple question like that has an easy answer. He points to Green, his best friend.
As soon as the other boy looks to him, his cheeks burn a bright scarlet. “Not like that,” he hastily corrects. “I mean like a crush! Romance!”
Another wrong answer. Red drops his hand and adverts his gaze in thought, considering Green’s words. Is there someone like that?
But he isn’t even given a second to think before Green is sighing again. “If you have to think about it, then you haven’t.” Red doubts the validity of that statement, but Green continues on. “Makes sense that it doesn’t matter to you.” He stares up at the ceiling again, dejection seeping from his words.
Challenging his assertion grows less and less important, and Red walks over to sit on the bed.
“Blue and I do something every year,” he says without needing further prompting. “When I was in Kalos, she would always convince me to send her fancy chocolates.” Not that it likely took much, seeing how he has always had a soft spot for her as long as Red could remember. “...I know that she doesn’t have those sorts of feelings for me. And she never will.”
It dawns on him that must be the heart of the matter—Green loves someone in a way that they cannot return. It isn’t the same, Red knows it isn’t, but he can understand an adjacent sort of pain. Years he spent with in etched into his chest, just wanting to have his friend back... He presses his hand against Green’s heart.
“Can I tell you a secret,” Green asks, looking up at Red with hazel eyes. He nods, so Green continues. “I don’t know if I still really hold those feelings for her. I think I... might just feel like I’m supposed to.” Red’s brows furrow as he tries to make sense of that logic. “We’re the same, you know. Her and me.” Green shakes his head. “But she doesn’t like boys, and I’m a boy.” He gives a bittersweet chuckle. “I asked her once what if I was a girl. She got unusually serious and reminded me that it doesn’t matter because I’ll always be a boy.” He rolls his eyes with a gentle fondness. “She said that pretending to be something I’m not would only make me unhappy.” He pauses again before whispering the rest of his thought. “I can’t even remember a time before knowing that.”
There is something that Red is missing, he knows there is, but he doesn’t know what. There were years spent when Green and Blue had each other, without him in the picture. It burns in his lungs.
Green knits his brows and adverts his gaze. “Just wanting a romance isn’t a good reason to get into a relationship anyway, but it’s nice to pretend sometimes.”
Romance. Something clicks, softly and not fully into place. Red grabs the book that the other had left on the bedside table. He flips through the pages before stopping on one to scan through it’s contents, the corners of his lips tugging down.
“Shut up!” Green protests the judgmental silence. “You’re just uncultured.”
He holds out the book and watches his face light up in flames. “No!” Green screeches, voice breaking as he shoves the book away. “Not like that!” He slaps his hands over his face, blush climbing down his neck and disappearing under his shirt.
Red stifles a laugh. Maybe it‘s worth catching Green in his age-typical fantasies with an age-inappropriate book.
He is still quick to clarify. “I meant like dates! Dancing! Amusement parks! That kind of thing!”
Red pauses, considering Green’s words. He stands, spotting his friend curl up out of the corner of his eye. But he has a goal in mind. He rummages through his bag until he finds his pokegear. He opens up the radio, only to (rather predictably) tune into static. Maybe it’s wishful thinking to believe that a signal can reach out in the middle of the ocean, but he remains determined. As he turns the dial, garbled words and music fragments come through. Until finally, somehow, a song starts playing crystal clear.
Green still doesn’t move from the bed. Red walks back over and begins to pull his hands away from his face. “Red,” he whines. “What are you doing?”
It’s still awkward for him to sign with one hand, but he still does his best. 「Happy Valentine's Day.」
The blush that had died to a dusty pink comes back full-force. “It’s not Valentine’s Day, Red.”
「Pretend.」 His lips quirk up slightly, and he takes the other hand still half-covering Green's face.
He just stares at him for a long moment. “Pretend,” he repeats, and Red nods, continuing to tug at his hands. He hesitates, but then he follows his friend’s lead.
Standing together in the middle of the cabin, Red realizes that he has absolutely no idea of what to do. He looks to Green’s hip, placing an uncertain hand on his waist. His gaze moves up to his shoulder, and his other hand follows suit. This is... close, he thinks, but it isn’t quite right.
“Here,” Green offers with a chuckle. He takes the hand on his hip into his own. “You don’t know how to dance, do you Red?” He stifles a laugh when Red frowns. “Don’t worry, just follow my lead.”
Red looks down at their feet when he hears Green’s cocky tone. “Hey, Red.” He’s leaning into his Kalosh accent, something Red recalls from their early youth. He glances back up, but then he’s staring at their feet again. “Don’t think too hard about the steps. Just look at me.” Something about the reassuring order has an emotion Red can’t quite identify snaking around his heart.
Their first steps are, predictably, clumsy. The measures it takes for them to fall into a rhythm reminds him of their early days of playing the flute, when the class couldn’t quite play in exact unison. Feet fall off beat and squish other feet, but within a song and a half, they’re already perfecting their tempo.
“You’re getting the hang of it, Red,” Green praises. But then he’s boasting again. “Aren’t I a great teacher?”
In spite of himself, Red’s lips quirk upwards in a soft smile. Years later, and Green is just the same as he remembers him.
Clammy hands betray faux confidence, but Red finds himself not minding. “You better not start taking lessons without me, got it?”
Red laughs, quiet and raspy. Obviously not. But he recognizes the subtle challenge. Determination sparks within him, exactly the same as when they would fight over fruit snacks in blanket forts that would crash upon them during their roughhousing.
But then their steps are falling out of rhythm again, and Green slows them to a stop. Unfocused eyes answer Red’s question before he can ask. Something is wrong.
He slides the hand on Green’s shoulder up to his cheek, but there’s no response. Red’s gaze flickers away as he thinks, down to one side and then the other. He chews on his chapped lip and tightens his grasp as he tries to put together a plan. Green’s medicine is in his bag, but can he get to it before he falls apart under the weight of his anxiety?
Red finds his voice. “Green—”
A softness presses to his lips, and all he can do is blink as his best friend steals a kiss.
Green yanks backwards. “Shit—!” He pushes Red away. “Sorry, I-I—” He swallows. “That didn’t mean anything! I-I didn’t—”
Red grasps his wrist and tugs him back in, staring at him with a desperation he hasn’t shown in years. He can’t lose him, not again, not over something so trivial.
He watches Green swallow again before he’s pulling Red into a hug. He clings to him, as if letting go would mean the end of everything, even as Green squirms.
“H-hey,” Green breaks the tense silence after a moment. “I need a walk, okay?” Red can’t help but tighten his grasp, and he feels the other swallow yet again. “I’ll be back. I promise I’ll be back.” He hesitates for a moment, but then he finally loosens his hold enough to allow Green to disengage.
Green pauses, glancing to their belongings. A beat of silence passes. He wipes his hands on his pants before grabbing the hat hanging off of the bedpost. “I’ll return this soon,” he says with a shaky smile, barely looking Red in the eye. “This way you know I’ll come back, right?”
...Right. He wouldn’t take Red’s hat away from him. He has had his moments in the past, but Green has never been that mean. So, heart racing, Red slowly nods.
Green places the hat on his head. Despite his worry, a fondness softly blooms in Red’s chest. “I’ll see you soon, Red,” he swears on his way out the door.
With Green gone, Red sits back down on the bed. He carefully pieces the events together, keeping Green’s words in mind. It was nothing, but Green still had to leave.
He touches his lips. Did it really mean nothing?