Work Text:
"I still think this is a stupid idea," Blue says for what must be the fourth time.
Red barely glances up from the book he's reading, only quirks an eyebrow, enough emotion to let Blue know he's being judged severely.
Blue throws up his hands. "I want to make it clear that I'm only doing this because we were already in Lumiose, okay?" There's this tricky thing that comes with being one of the strongest trainers in the world and involved with the Pokémon League to boot, which is that any time some cataclysmic event takes place somewhere on the globe, a chainmail gets sent out to that elusive group, asking kindly for sympathetic souls who probably have nothing better to do anyways, to please show up on the other side of the planet and clear up the debris caused by – what is it this time? – a major landmark of the Kalos region being exposed as an ancient superweapon. If Blue had a nickel, and all that.
Red, being exactly the type of kind soul to respond to that type of chainmail, Sinnoh bless, of course saw it within his authority to drag Blue along. It's not like the latter wasn't at the time buried to the knees in a massive battle research project that could've shut up his grandfather once and for all. But oh, Red makes those big baby-doll eyes when there’s something he wants, and Blue is simply not immune to that, so he packed a suitcase and came along.
Upon arrival, the two of them quickly found that the problem already sorted itself out, at the hands of a group of ruly teenagers, as they tend to do. Now they're stuck a the Chez Ronflex for another two days until their next flight back to Kanto goes. Or, at least that was the idea.
Professor Sycamore, whom Blue has nothing but respect for, but who he thinks is sometimes overenthusiastic in the same way that his own grandfather gets when some genius idea or other strikes him – this seems to be a shared trait of all postgraduates of Celadon University, Blue would know – threw a wrench into the ideas Blue was already having about closing the Gym down for Christmas Eve and going out with Brock and Misty and their old gang to get jollily drunk in a backalley izakaya in Saffron City, by adding both him and Red to a group call (this was about two hours ago) to propose to them the most asinine request Blue has maybe ever received. And that’s also saying a lot.
Red was naturally on board, immediately, and woe be upon the man (Blue) who dares defy Red when he has his mind made up about something like this.
But Blue still thinks it’s stupid, for the record.
.
"I know this is very short notice," Sycamore said, in his best broken Galarian, after Blue messed up one Kaloçais word and Sycamore immediately insisted, "But Dexio and Sina are both out with a cold."
"At this time of year?" Blue could barely keep the mock-surprise out of his voice.
"I know, it's really inconvenient. With everything going on in Lumiose City. And Wulfric already prepared everything, you see." Well it would be a shame if Wulfric's preparation turned out entirely for nought. Blue considered hanging up but Red elbowed him in the ribs.
"All you two have to do is wear the outfits and bring your cheeriest holiday spirit."
"Outfits," Blue said. Oh, he could already imagine the striped stockings, hideous red and green entwined, or perhaps Kalos is more of a blue-and-gold region, and then at least the colors would flatter him.
He caught Red's unimpressed gaze and winced.
"At least give me some time to think!"
Red shrugged and gave Sycamore a big thumbs-up, the same way he probably would if Sycamore asked him to clean up the destroyed Lumiose Tower with his bare hands.
"Professor," Blue said slowly, then. "Why can't you do it?" He watched with some some satisfaction as Sycamore's face grew the color of a tomato, and he thought that Dexio, who's always had a bit of a crush on his mentor, would probably get a kick out of this. Sycamore quickly muttered something about how he couldn’t leave his residency in Unova this short-notice, nevermind the fact that Red and Blue just flew halfway across the world only to be told to go home again.
When Sycamore finally hung up after another excruciating ten minutes of instructions, Blue turned to Red. “Christmas elves.”
Red shrugged, already going back to his book. If I had half your laxity, Blue thought.
.
Wulfric meets them in front of the Snowbelle Gym, and Blue is once again stricken, upon looking at the building, by how everything in Kalos looks so goddamn pretty. Maybe he doesn’t mind staying a few days longer – though Daisy had a thing or two to say about missing out on family Christmas – even if it means doing this of all things.
Red has been shooting him looks the entire way here, and Blue has done his best to dance around the topic best as he could, but then Wulfric comes right out and shakes Blue’s hand with a kind of heavy solemnness, and says, “I appreciate you two doing this; especially you, Blue. I know Christmas is not the easiest time for you.”
How exactly Wulfric knows this is about Blue is beyond him – actually, no, he can guess: a well-meaning Sycamore who Blue maybe got too drunk around one time while studying abroad making a phonecall in advance of their arrival would have done the trick. But Blue just smiles tersely and shakes the two large hands Wulfric has grabbed his palm with. And – yeah, okay. Playing Christmas elf for Daddy Santa is maybe not the worst way to spend the holidays.
.
The outfits turn out to not be too awful. Blue even thinks he looks a little hot in his. As he pulls the long stocking up his thigh, he catches Red's gaze from across the room. "You've been staring an awful lot today."
If Red has any deeper insight into the whole situation, he's not letting anything on. He just cocks his head to the side for a moment, lets his eyes very obviously trail down Blue's long leg, and then returns to buttoning up his own striped shirt.
Blue frowns but gives it no further thought. They haven't exactly talked about Blue's whole thing with Christmas, but if it's up to him, they'll also continue that trend.
They finish getting dressed and step out into the cold, where Wulfric is waiting for them in his jolly Santa getup. A gorgeous red coat and a Santa hat with a white rim, as well as sturdy brown winter boots. Next to him waits his sleigh: A fanciful contraption with six Sawsbuck in their winter coat and a Wyrdeer leading the cavalry.
"Damn, where'd you get a sleigh like that?" Blue says as he takes in the design, noting the small details in each crevice of the wood.
"Built it myself," says Wulrfic proudly. "My father was a carpenter and he taught me how to build a sleigh that can survive the snow. And this job is all about authenticity, so I didn't want a cheap plastic thing."
Blue nods and lets his hand wander over the smooth ridge. He remembers being four and being so impressed by the sleigh the mall Santa at the Celadon Department Store had. He remembers loving Christmas, at some point in his early life. He turns to face Wulfric and Red. “Alright. Let’s get this show on the road.”
.
There’s a long line of children at the Santalune City shopping center. The area between the two big escalators has been decked out with tinsel, candy cane and four medium size Christmas trees, as well as real fake snow provided by Wulfric’s Mamoswine. Blue scratches his thigh faintly as he tries to figure out how the hell they’re gonna tame such a big crowd. Red next to him has put on a determined expression that reminds Blue of the look he always used to get before challenging a Gym Leader. He watches a young girl flinch under the intensity of the stare, and he nudges Red to get him to stop. “You’re scaring them.”
Red’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“Yes, really. I don’t know if no one’s ever told you but you can be a scary dude.”
Red opens his mouth in protest, but in that instance, two more kids come up to Wulfric and Blue plasters a big smile back on. He watches as one young boy with messy, brown hair and a big gap tooth hops onto Wulfric’s lap and begins plappering in quick Kaloçais.
“Pour Noël, je veux un nouveau ballon de foot pour jouer avec mon papa et de nouveaux gants de cuisine pour ma maman! Elle fait les meilleures quiches du monde entier!”
The kid’s eyes glow with absolute joy as Wulfric-Santa promises him all of those things and more. He looks so perfectly innocent, just asking for nice things for his parents. Around his neck hangs a small necklace, similar to the one Blue used to wear, the one from his own parents.
Blue pushes himself up from the candy cane he’s been leaning against and turns to Red. “I need a smoke break.”
Santalune’s lower altitude doesn’t make for a white winter miracle, which means there’s only a grey drizzle when Blue steps outside. He bums a cigarette off a stressed Christmas shopper and then stands underneath the large glass roof by the entrance. He doesn’t usually smoke, back at home, but being back here – the circumstance – brings it back out in him.
He stands for a while, scrolling on his phone, until he feels a presence looming behind him.
They’ve spent their youth chasing each other across all of Kanto, so Blue doesn’t need to turn to know even the look on Red’s face. That innocent little scowl that could be cute if Blue were in a marginally better mood. He finally spins around once he gets annoyed. “What do you want?”
Red doesn't reply. He simply stands, watching Blue hunched over, with his phone and cigarette, some water dripping down his forehead from where the drizzle has been blown in by the wind.
"I'm not gonna talk about it. Especially not you of all people."
Red makes a face that conveys vague hurt, but who can ever really say, with him. He crosses his arms and stands, looking rather silly in his Christmas elf getup, making clear that he's not budging.
Blue stomps out the cigarette and closes in on Red, until he's pushing him against the wall by the entrance door. "You're so annoying. What do you think you're getting out of this?"
Still unimpressed, Red holds out his hand, demanding for Blue's phone.
Blue rolls his eyes but hands it to him. He should be used to this by now, he thinks. He waits for a long minute as Red types out whatever he has to say, meticulous and with great consideration, and then turns the phone back around to Blue.
Why are you doing this?
"This?" Blue asks, motioning between him and Red. "Because you're annoying. Because you're always on my case. I told you I needed a break and you just can't leave it alone–"
Red shakes his head. He motions at Blue, the Christmas elf costume. This. He types on the phone for another second, the reveals:
You didn't have to come. You could have flown back to Kanto. Or stayed at the hotel.
Blue falters. "Right." He puts a foot of distance between himself and Red. He wants to push his hands into his pockets but the striped tights nefariously lack any. Instead, he steps in place for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "I guess because once or twice a year I actually have a miraculous nice-streak and then I do good things for people. See? I ain't so bad, after all."
It's Red's turn to roll his eyes and he types away on Blue's phone, this now being their modus operandi of communication, it seems.
"You know, I'm sure there are ways to speak that would be less inconvenient, even for you," Blue starts, but Red throws him a glare that, for the first time, contains outright hostility. "Right, geez. I get it."
Finally, after a long typing session, Red turns the phone around.
You're full of shit. You're not doing this to be nice. I can tell something is the matter. Tell me. I don't want you to be miserable all day.
Blue's eyebrow raises slowly. He feels strangely touched. "You don't want me to be miserable? Aw, don't tell me you do care about me."
Red slaps the phone against Blue's chest so hard it nearly drops and then stalks away back inside. Blue is left standing with it dangling loosely between his fingers, entirely confused by the past five minutes.
He looks down at the screen, that long message Red took ages to type out. Red never does this. He hates talking to people this directly. It's all simple hand gestures and formal emails with him. Sometimes, when they were kids, Blue would hear him speak. A simple yes or no, muttered when no one else could hear.
.
When Blue gets back, the queue has shortened considerably, and they get the procedure wrapped up with minimal further incidents. The sky is dark and stormy out by the time the shopping center closes, and Wulfric frowns as his sleigh. "I'll leave it here overnight. We'll come to pick it up tomorrow morning." As they head back to the dressing room, he turns to Blue. "Was today alright for you?"
A quick frown, then a weak smile. "Fine. This one got me together earlier when I had a bit of a moment." He nods his head in Red's direction, who shoots Blue a glare over his shoulder and then stalks up ahead.
Wulfric waits until Red is out of earshot before he puts a hand on Blue's shoulder. "You know he's just trying to help, don't you? I think you're being a bit harsh on him."
Blue sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He looks down the hallway to Red, who is fidgeting with the lock to the dressing room, then considers what to say next. Finally, he turns to face Wulfric.
"When I was seven, my parents died in a car crash. It was December 23rd. Two days before Christmas. It wasn't even Christmas Eve or anything specific like that, just some random day in the middle of December." He watches as the color drains from Wulfric's face completely.
"It's December 23rd today."
Blue huffs weakly. "It's fine, don't worry about me. I'm just not... a big fan of Christmas, because of that. It's a bit of a rough time of year for me."
Wulfric nods slowly, and to his credit appears to understand that Blue doesn't particularly feel like delving into the whole thing. "There are a lot of people who feel the same around Christmas. It's part of the reason why I put on this whole show every year. There are parents – and children – out there like you who could really use a distraction, and a reminder what holidays are really about."
The corner of Blue's mouth twitches. "And what are they about, oh, Mr. Claus?"
Wulfric laughs – a full-hearted belly laugh with the fake mustache shaking that makes him look exactly like Blue had always imagined Santa would look. He pats Blue on the back. "They're about love and family, of course. You don't need me to tell you that. Come on, boy. Let's get out of these silly costumes."
They walk the rest of the way to the dressing room and Blue feels a little lighter, a little more smile-ish. When he opens the door he finds Red in the middle of the room, standing with his elf outfit still on, obviously having eavedropped on the conversation. His face becomes a color befitting his name.
They all change in silence, but every now and then Blue catches him glancing in his direction.
Blue stands by what he said. There is not much to talk about. Red was seven, too, when it happened. He was there. That evening, with Red lingering in the doorframe while Gramps talked to his mother in hushed tones. Daisy was sitting on the sofa, bawling her eyes out. Blue had just sat there, unsure what to do with himself. For him, the tears only came later at the funeral. In that moment, before the tears, and ever since after, there’s only ever been the numbness.
.
They're standing in line to check in their luggage, the morning of the 25th. Heavy snow came down on Lumiose overnight so their flight is already delayed by two hours, but they had to check out of their hotel rooms and now they're at the airport early.
Eevee nuzzles anxiously at Blue's feet, the last chance to have a look around before she has to go into her Poké ball for the flight.
Red looks well-rested, Blue doesn't know how he does it even in their early thirties. Blue slept like shit.
They stopped for coffee on the way, one last good Lumiose blend before the flight (but Blue made sure to stock up for when they're back home), and it's all that's keeping Blue awake and aware right now. So he almost misses the way Red keeps fidgeting nervously with something in his pocket, just as they're about to hand in their suitcases.
"What's got you so nervous?" Blue asks over his shoulder. He bows down to pick up Eevee, because it's Poké ball time.
When he turns, Red has produced a small box, wrapped in green Christmas wrapper and a bright red bow to boot. He holds it out meaningfully. For you.
Blue's eyebrows shoot up. "Really? Well, shit. I didn't get you anything, I hope you know that." He takes it and unwraps it impatiently, well aware of the angry look the airport staff is daggering into his back right now because he's holding up the line.
The wrapping reveals into a small box with a snow globe inside, a Poké ball motif made of glass with the former Lumiose Tower at the center. There’s a card, too, in Red’s awful Torchic scrawl.
Because I know you miss Kalos. R.
“Huh,” Blue goes and turns the snow globe absent-mindedly in his hand, watching as the little snowflakes twirl around the miniature tower.
“Sir? You’ll have to please hand in your luggage now.”
“Oh, shit–”
Blue drops to his knees to quickly open up his suitcase, half the contents spilling out – nearly pouring coffee over them – before he shoves the snowglobe inside, safely stashed between socks and underwear, and then puts it on the conveyor belt under the watchful eyes of the annoyed worker lady.
He steps out of the line with a bright hot face and waits for Red to check in his own luggage, taking sips of his coffee and looking at the holiday chaos around them, people trying to get last-minute flights, a girl crying in her father’s arms. He wouldn’t have minded staying a few days longer, he thinks.
A pull by the sleeve alerts him to Red’s presence and he turns to find him looking on expectantly.
“Right. Sorry about that. Uhm. Thank you, for that gift. It’s… sweet.”
Red nods and pulls down his cap deep over his face, hiding his eyes, like Blue can’t see the way his cheeks have gone pink.
“Listen,” Blue says slowly. He thinks of all the things he should say to Red, thinks of all the things they should talk about. Blue’s parents, his grief, the way the world has turned so quickly around them and how time just keeps going at a break-neck pace and how they’ll never be those kids again that they were. But Blue has never been good at giving big heartfelt speeches, so instead he just leans forward, coaxing up Red’s cap, and presses a soft kiss to his cheek.
Red makes big eyes at him but makes no move to pull away. Like a Deerling in the headlights of love, his pupils dilate, and Blue simply can’t resist that look. He leans in again and presses another kiss, this time to Red’s lips. He tastes like Earl Grey and chapstick and that cinnamonny thing he had for breakfast.
And Blue thinks that maybe Christmas might be alright after all.