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Volkner was a man who prided himself on quite a few things. Mediocre at most to the naked eye, he admits, and maybe even a little mediocre to himself. For instance, his pride and joy was the gym on the shore of Sinnoh that he had tended to for many years. Volkner understood that it was quite odd for a building to be the thing most precious to him, as most would go with 'family' or some other cliché. The fact was that no one understood how much he cared about this building, even going as far to rewire it all. All out of sheer boredom, he'd answer grudgingly, if asked.
Though a man of gratification, there was also a rather long list of things Volkner loathed about himself. His uncompromising behaviour and tendency to ruin everything he has with the people he cares about being on top.
Volkner grew up in quite the lonely environment, having not been a child of extroverted personality. Yes, he had always wondered what it was like to be surrounded by friends, being the curious kid he was, but he was content with loneliness. It was much better than the thought of conversing with the other children.
Unlike the other kids, Volkner was fascinated with electronics. At the age of ten, he knew all the ins and outs of a car and promptly created a smaller model, working parts and all. At thirteen, he discovered the wonders of the internet. It mesmerized him. The answer to everything in a matter of moments, information scattered across various search engines.
Of course, after a while, his best friend stepped in. Yes, he did realize he was spending quite a lot of time on the phone he bought himself, but Flint never intervened unless it was serious. He was quite understanding of Volkner's ways, henceforth he never really found it necessary to get involved. But this was eating Volkner. His attachment to his phone was becoming too much.
Flint sighed mid sentence, wrinkling his nose when his friend doesn't even look up to see why he stopped speaking. "Volk," he said in a sturdy voice, eyeing Volkner with seriousness. When he didn't look up, Flint nudged him in the arm.
With a frustrated huff, Volkner tore his attention away from his phone to glare at Flint. It was like it physically pained him to stop fiddling with his device. "What?" he said through gritted teeth, eyed hardening.
Flint sighed once again. "How many hours of sleep did you get last night?" he asked methodically, as he did nearly every day. Truth be told, he was very concerned for his friend. He always had bags under his eyes and kept tripping over his own feet. It was embarrassing, really, but Flint didn't have to feign it when he grew worried.
Today, Volkner wouldn't budge. He kept the hard look glazed over his face, jaw working slightly in annoyance. During the three years they had been friends, one thing Flint knew he hated was being cared for. He loathed it with every fibre of his being. Volkner's face would do the telltale wince, followed by the clenching of his fists and the look of hostility that would take over. After all these years, the dance would change, but the music stayed the same.
"Volkner," Flint prodded cautiously, using his friend's full name for emphasis. "You know it's not healthy to get that small of an amount of-"
Flint's sentence was never finished. Instead, the wrath of Volkner ensued, and this time, it was all directed towards Flint.
"Hey, Flint, just a thought, why don't you keep your nose out of other people's business? Have you ever thought that maybe you should just give up while you're ahead? That maybe the person your doting on doesn't need your help? Oh yeah, I forgot, you don't ever think.
"You're acting as if I'm your child. Drop the mother act, Flint, we all know what happened last time you tried helping someone."
Okay. Now that was a particularly low blow. Volkner new it, Flint could tell, and that only boiled his blood more. His heart started pounding faster, fists clenching and unclenching in rhythm with his heavy breathing. His subconscious told him to calm down, that if he let the fire inside of him smoke, everything would go down hill, but Flint didn't listen.
Instead of blowing smoke, he erupted the whole damn volcano.
"That's low, Volkner, real fucking low, even for you. Do you ever not go for the lowest blow? You know, this is why you don't have any friends. You push them away as far as they can go, you test their limits and push their buttons so much that they don't even want to be around you anymore. And I was stupid enough to think you would act differently around me. That you would accept me for who I am and understand my flaws. Man, was I far off."
There were now tears peaking out through the corner of Flint's eyes from the emotional overload he was experiencing. Sniffing loudly and rubbing his eyes with the back of his sleeves, he whipped the other way and stomped off, leaving a seething and dejected Volkner in the dust of the beach.
Turning on his heels, Volkner ran blindly to the nearest wall of rocks he could find, slamming his fist into the first one. It hurt terribly on the first swing, but pain gave way to pleasure by the second one. In the heat of the moment, he felt like he couldn't stop.
As great as fantasy is, he couldn't keep it up much longer. He fell to the sand after a minute, silence pursuing him. he lifted his hands into his view to be met with the pale skin of his knuckles splattered with blood. They were shaking violently.
Hiccuping and pulling himself from the ground, he wiped his eyes on the fabric of his jacket on his shoulder, shoving his hands into his pockets. He didn't look up the whole way home, not even when he was crossing the trails and roads. Quickly and silently, he ran up the stairs when he got in his house, thankfully not arousing his mom from her television episode.
When Volkner got to his room, his arms were still shaking. There was sand crusted around his bloody knuckles. Subconsciously, he thought that he needed to clean them. He was surprised when his body actually started moving towards the little bathroom connected to his room. But his mind had other ideas, as he didn't reach underneath the sink for the first aid kit, but to the small drawer that held his shaving utensils.
He grabbed the razor package and took out one of the blades, holding it in his trembling left hand. Rolling his sleeve up to his elbow, Volkner put the razor to skin, gliding it softly across, creating an irritated patch across his arm. Sighing loudly, he reset the blade to the side of his wrist and started counting his flaws.
Inconsiderate. Slash.
Dishonest. Slash.
Arrogant. Slash.
Stubborn. Slash.
Worthless. Slash.
-
The fight between Volkner and Flint has long since passed. Five years later, they had all but forgotten their misunderstanding. Flint apologized first, all sincerity and hesitant, and a day after that, Volkner threw his phone into the sea.
Though their friendship was patched up, there was one thing that would never go back to normal; Volkner had never stopped relieving himself with the sharp edge of the razor blade. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, it made him feel better, and no amount of convincing from himself could tell him to put the blade down. He had been able to go clean for a year, with taking over the gym and battling challengers being priority. But when people stopped coming, he fell back into his hurtful ways.
Volkner had taken to wearing his sweater all day, every day ever since he started. This was normal during the day, as his jacket was his comfort clothing, but he wouldn't even take it off when he was completely relaxed at Flint's house or when a challenger that put up a great fight came along.
Flint understood that Volkner was battling his own kind of sadness while no one he deemed worthy coming to the gym in a long time, but this was... Different. Volkner had gone through waves like this before, but Flint was always able to cheer him up and get him smiling again. Now... his friend's mouth wouldn't so much as twitch when he told a joke or challenged him to a battle. It made Flint feel powerless. Not even his own Pokémon had any luck cheering the usually-witty man up.
This was eating Flint. He couldn't stand his best friend being like this. He missed his sarcastic, determined and quick-witted friend. He felt like he was being conned out of his daily dose of Volkner. He couldn't stand it anymore. If trying to make him happy wasn't working, he had to resort to plan B: confronting him.
He had finally made up his plan a few days later. He was going to casually work in Volkner's depression into their conversation, aiming to test the waters, see how his friend would react. Flint would go from there. It wasn't exactly foolproof, he knew, but it was the best he was able to work out in his mind. Strategizing was Volkner's forte.
He found that it was the perfect time to initiate his plan when they were sitting calmly under a tree, looking out at the shore as the noon sun pounded mercilessly down on the beach city and burned everything in it's path. Flint glanced nervously at Volkner, watching the steady rise and fall of his friend's chest as he rested his eyes as he always did after lunch. Arms behind his head and legs crossed, per usual. It was a familiar sight, almost making Flint forget what he was about to do. His heart flipped in his chest when Volkner peeled open an eye, giving him a suspicious look.
After a few seconds of silence and staring, Volkner closed his eye again. "Out with it," he murmured. "Tension isn't good for either of us."
Well. Flint couldn't argue there. A smile played on his lips, glad that his best friend still had the ability of knowing his thoughts and feelings. It made hope blossom in his chest, feeling as though he had a improved chance of Volkner complying.
Before he asked his question, Flint couldn't help sneaking a look at his friend's exposed midriff, biting his lip in the process. Moments like these made it hard to suppress the gigantic crush he had on Volkner. He was teasing him without even knowing, the bastard.
Shaking off his romantic thoughts, Flint cleared his throat. "So... How's the gym been going?" That wasn't the question he had meant to ask. Sadly, Flint found it hard to be that straightforward in the situations, hence why he always took the long route without planning.
It took a couple seconds for Volkner to answer, all in which Flint was staring intently at him. Volkner didn't seem to be offended by the question, but then again, Flint's main way of figuring out Volkner was by his eyes.
"Slow," Volkner admitted, "no one's came in a while, as I'm sure you noticed." There was speculation in his voice. Flint could understand why, as he usually visited the gym multiple times a day while his friend was stuck there. He just needed to get the conversation going somehow.
"Yeah..." Flint began, brainstorming what to say next. He decided to just come out with it. "I know you get down" -he knew to dance carefully around the word 'depressed'- "when no challengers come, I mean, you always do, but why is this time any different from the others? Don't try to deny it, Volk, you've been acting different lately and you know it."
With this, Volkner opened both of his eyes and gave Flint a questioning look. Flint swallowed hard, staying silent, hoping that this wouldn't go downhill. This was his one shot. He had to get the answer out of his friend now or else every time Flint mentions it, Volkner will brush it off.
"You trying to get me to talk about my feelings?" When Flint didn't answer, Volkner chuckled humourlessly. "We all know how this pans out. Badly. I vote you give up now."
Flint looked at Volkner incredulously. He hadn't expected him to take that so casually. Looking back up at Volkner's eyes, he automatically knew there was more than that. Flint could now see the same look that his friend would always give when he talked about the gym or when he would start trying to cheer him up. He had been oblivious then, but now he could confidently register that look: fear.
Getting this out of Volkner was now more important than anything. Volkner was never scared. Flint was terrified of this revelation. It made him need to help Volkner all the more. Whatever was getting him this depressed was serious, and Flint could tell that it was more than just the sluggish speed that his gym was going at.
"Volkner," he began, concern sloshing in his tone. "I'm not trying to get you to talk about anything you don't wanna, but Volk, this is getting pretty serious. Don't try to dismiss me. I just wanna help."
Flint sighed as Volkner glared at him as he got up from his position under the tree. He was always like this. Whenever it came to talking about his problems, he thought the best solution was to ignore and deny, to get up and walk away. Before he could even take a step, Flint flew into action, shooting up to his feet and grabbing his friend by the wrist. Volkner tensed and attempted to jar is arm out of Flint's grip, but to no avail. "Let go," he groaned warningly.
"No," Flint said defiantly. Volkner kept twisting and turning. "Not until you talk. I know you think that you're helping me when you walk away, but you're not. It just makes me feel more distant from you. C'mon dude, you know you need help from someone. And if you don't know that, I do. I'm not letting you walk away. I've never given up on you. And I don't plan to start now."
To Flint's surprise, Volkner stopped struggling in favour of looking the opposite way, emotion evident in his eyes. His hand was shaking. Flint just wanted to hug him forever and take all of his pain away. Sadly, that wasn't how the world worked. Hence why they were in this situation.
Sighing softly, Flint rubbed his thumb across Volkner's wrist, meaning to make it a comforting gesture. He could tell his friend had tried to suppress the flinch, but Flint felt it in his hand. Flint's eyes narrowed. Volkner never reacted this badly to physical contact. That gave him a crazy idea, one that he never could have thought true until this moment. Watching his friend cautiously, he grabbed Volkner's sleeve with his other hand and pulled it up gingerly, bracing himself for what he might see.
Flint took a deep breath and shoved his fist to his lips when he saw all the pale white and red marks crisscrossing his friend's arms. He sneaked a glance at Volkner. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the broken look in his eyes. Everything made sense now from that one emotion.
"How long?" Flint dared to ask, voice cracking. His throat was too thick with emotion to have any control over how he sounded. He didn't want to make this any harder for Volkner than he already had, so he decided to just stick to the absolutely necessary questions and try to keep his feelings at bay. He was already doing a horrible job on the latter.
He heard Volkner swallow before he mumbled, "five years." Flint had to look away. It felt like a knife was just drived through his heart. How did he never notice? The answer to him was simple; he must have just been that terrible of a friend. For all he knew, Volkner had started hurting himself after their fight in middle school. Something inside of him shook at that revelation. That must have been it. Their fight. That was when he could never get his friend to take of his jacket. He didn't want it to be true. He wasn't just a bad friend for not noticing, he was a horrible one for being the person who had initiated this turmoil of pain upon his best friend.
He had to fix this. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't.
Composing himself, Flint looked back at Volkner. He took a deep breath, zeroing in on the scars. He prodded one lightly with his index finger, frowning when another jolt went through his friend's body. He hated these scars. Hated them with everything he had. He just wanted all the pain to go away. Calling up all of his confidence to the surface, Flint slowly raised Volkner's wrist to his lips, kissing his way up his arm. At first, the limb stiffened under his touch, but sure enough, once he got half way up the ladder of scars, it relaxed. Even when he got to the top, Flint couldn't help but drag his lips higher, up to Volkner's shoulder. Over his clavicle, up his jugular.
"Flint," Volkner murmured in a warning tone, but it wasn't the same one he used when he was angry. This voice was new, different. Wanting. Flint continued his administrations, working his way up to Volker's jaw. His grip slackened on his friend's wrist in favour of grasping the base of his neck.
Before continuing his dance to his friend's lips, Flint looked into Volkner's eyes. They showed no sign of uncertainty, dislike or pain. Flint thought that the look suited him. He was about to move forward to initiate the kiss, but to his surprise, Volkner was the one who connected their lips.
The kiss was chaste, but by no means boring or uneventful. Flint found that he enjoyed the taste and feeling of Volkner's lips more than he expected himself to. He offhandedly wondered if anyone was around to see that, yes, he was kissing the golden boy of Sunnyshore, but more importantly, his best friend. He didn't care. Let them see. Let all of them see.
Volkner broke from the kiss first, eyes closed and content before they peeled open halfway, and man, how did Flint never notice how Volkner's eyes were the perfect shade of azure? They were mesmerizing. He kept staring dumbly until he was snapped out of it by his friend saying, "so, you think you can work out everyone's problems with your lips, don't you?"
Flint chuckled at that. "I was hoping that I could at least solve yours."
They turned to start walking along the sand, Flint twining his fingers with Volkner's. With a tone of seriousness, the latter replied, "you know that this doesn't solve everything, right?" There was worry in his eyes, as if he thought Flint would give this all up because everything wasn't resolved. Flint's heart tugged at this. Volkner was so fucked up by society by this point that he thought his best friend would leave him for being human.
Flint offered him a gentle smile. "I don't expect everything to be fine just because of this." He made a gesture that vaguely looked like him pointing between the two of them. "It's a stepping stone. There's no expectations. None at all." A grin forced it's way on his face when he added, "well, except for that you stop locking me out of the gym every time I get too annoying."
Volkner laughed. A genuine, hearty laugh. A one where he had to drag their clasped hands to his face, trying to cover his joy. Flint hadn't seen Volkner laugh this way in years. Flint missed the squinting of his eyes, the inevitable smile that spread across his lips and the dimples that appeared on his cheeks that he always tried so hard to conceal.
It felt like he was finally coming home.