BRING IT

@freshprinceofpalletown

To strive for something that seems limitless is the most conquerable thing you can do.

14.5K posts

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[ there are moments that can be counted out like coins into a palm, each little plink of them a memory that red recalls very quickly. one by one by one. green’s eyes, brightened from brown into honeyed amber from the morning sun.

plink.

green carding his hand through his hair while playing a videogame, a coolish pack dangling from his mouth. he’s playing…. mario? something.

plink.

green’s hands in his hands, pinning them to the mattress. their hips flush together. if he closes his eyes ( which he does now ), he can feel the heat in his belly and the flutter of his heart. teenaged and unaware of what any of this means. tucked together too close on snorlax’s belly.

plink, plink.

love. it’s how he remembers it most. warm and subtle and soft. something so sweet it made his jaw ache. makes him want to cry now.

he doesn’t. ] Guess I just miss being in a bed with you. [ he smiles but there’s no humor in it. an old man remembering something long since passed. an opportunity that flitted to him on a breeze and, like a startled bird, flew off before he could seize it. ] Don’t have to say yeah. Just thinking outloud, I guess.

-He looks at him then, bangs cast low along his brows and near skittering into his eyes, the insides of his cheeks suddenly dry, his chest hollow. Hollow in an unexplainable way - a way that makes him drift away from that dry smile and off to Pumpkaboo as he floats into the living room. He doesn’t know what to think; doesn’t know how to feel, but he pauses for a heart beat’s tandem, hearing the tenor of Red’s voice, the rust, old nostalgic emotion in it. It makes him feel heavier, instead of lighter, more troubled, than airy-soft, because - he doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t know what to say to Red’s words, his near longing, his wants, but he stands by him and doesn’t walk away from him. If anything, he gets closer.-

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Doesn’t have to be two beds. [ he drops it there like coins in the cup of his palm. natural and every day, the link of them gentle enough that he knows it won’t hit him right away.

his hand drops away and he feels green stain his fingers like ink. soak into the skin like a tattoo. still the same scent, the same texture. the same voice, the same posture. he would know him in the dark and in death, always. ]

Yeah. Balcony sounds good.

-Another blink - he feels like he’s been throw off balance, not really sure or knowing where he will land, just knowing he’s wary of the fall; he looks to Red, vulnerable and confused, if only for a moment.- Why one? -It’s a dumb question, but it’s an honest one. Why one bed - my ring is off, there’s distance, you broke this off, and left my heart on the floor. Why one - I wasn’t here for you, you needed me, I left it on the floor for you too; but he’s waiting for Red’s answer, mentally preparing for words that give him no answers, maybe. Just more questions.-

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[ tick, tock, tick, tock. the kitchen clock goes on and on. red barely listens to what green’s saying, though he retains some of it and nods his head. it’s weird to be here but not be all over green. hanging on him like the foxtails that cling their shoes and socks when they go out into the garden. it’s terrible, loving someone but knowing things don’t fit right between you at the moment. it’s terrible.

his hand comes up and he’s closing that distance. it’s brave and it’s a little stupid, maybe, touching green. letting his fingers sink into all that hair and push it back. his expression falls, mouth thinned out. a kiss would be nice. a kiss would be really nice, right about now. maybe a little too presumptuous to take it. ]

Me and you.

-He blinks at his words, not knowing what to expect with the rooming situation, but it definitely wasn’t that answer, nor the way he says it so firm, fingers threading in his hair, as if it’s ring spun, perfectly made right just to wind around his fingers. His eyes blink wide, his shoulders hunching in an instinctual response to bow out of it as the hairs on his nape stand on end. But, he doesn’t, he lets Red touch him as he pleases, lets the scent of coconut shampoo cling to his fingers, as if it’s some reminder or saving grace; because, he’s deserving of this, above all. Deserving to have some form of normalcy and something utterly them, as his brows draw together, creating the dip of a valley, vulnerability on his face - bordering on pain. It hurts, but even the pain feels good. It’s a reminder that love sticks into the grooves of your body if you let it - forever lasting and unconquerable. He raises up a hand to pat Red’s own.- Sure - two beds. Can get a balcony for stargazing, or lookin’ out for Mew. Yeah?

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Me too.

[ red says it very quiet and in a voice so small and weak it feels much like chancing upon something small in tall grass. defenseless and afraid. like green is something, someone much bigger than himself. he feels the ripple of his presence like a heavy stone in water, the waves of them licking up his chest, touching his chin. he’s drowning, choking. both.

it’s an echo of an echo of an echo. it reverberates everywhere, settles in his chest heavy but warm and alive. never dead. ]

A lot.

Yeah? -His eyes drift to him, not fully, but still do - as if he’s nervous of the answer, so he keeps his body hidden from the impact, the only vulnerable to the hurt is the organ in his chest that throbs and throbs. A lot - a lot - what does that mean? Limitless and beyond, or simply what he said, a lot - so nonchalant, yet warm-thrilling at the same time it suds in his chest like broth bubbles. Green, he sniffs then, tapping his fingers in a rhythm along the counter - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6, and on the eight and the nine, he’s thinking fuck it, and turning his body to face him, because he’s worth the impact, he thinks. Worth the pain, the ill-suffering, the broken up, and the rejection.- That’s good. Thought it was one-sided, or somethin’. -He nervously pockets his hands and shrugs.- Anyway - am I payin’? What place we getting. Who rooms with who.

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Ethan, Kotone. Blue, Yellow? [ he thumbs his nose in thought, eyes off somewhere else because he’s not sure he should look at green or not. it feels strange, like turning the corner and being met with a closed door. it feels stuffy and humid in here all of a sudden, like summer has come early. he’s not sure what to do about it. if he should say anything about it.

how awful. ]

Professor can come too. Needs a vacation anyway, doesn’t he.

Guess so. Guess I’m the one paying for it too, huh? -He jokes, because when they were still together, officially or not, he paid for everything. Spoiled Red like a brat, because he was deserving, still is. Always will be. That - that - he knows will never go away if the rings and feelings do. Red is something precious, a constant in his life he can’t seem to let go, no matter the distance, the years, or how long they’ve went without seeing eachother for so long. And... it just sucks it turned out like, pining and awkward - he feels like a fool. But first love is the best love, it’s never the second. Slowly, he chances a glance at him and wants to reach out to touch him, but doesn’t.- Missed you, you know. Missed journeying with you too.

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Sure. [ it comes out cool and calm and collected. like he didn’t just feel himself rip at the seams and nearly crumble apart. not cleanly, but the way dried sand does. he can’t look at him anymore, he’s looking elsewhere, moving away because close means comfort and he doesn’t wanna be comfortable. he wants to lay down but he knows if he does, green will feel bad. he can see he already does anyway.

he fucked up, too. should’ve let it slide. ]

We can make a big trip out of it. Everyone’ll have fun.

Who’s all going on this? You, me -- -He stops himself from saying Ethan and Kotone, not sure if Red is okay with that, his hand coming up to rub at his arms as he watches Red scoot away, because he did that. He said something wrong; he did the wrong thing.-

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[ miss you, miss you, miss you.

the words are right there on red’s tongue like cotton candy that he’s trying not to let dissolve on his tongue. he shrugs as if he suddenly can’t remember and looks away. he is hurt. he is gut punched. he feels the implode of his ribs cracking in but it’s fine.

it’s fine. ] Just ran around like a kid lookin’ for Pokemon. Gonna head back there soon. Try and complete the dex.

Ah. -His voice comes out low, as if it took him mass amounts of effort for him to push out, his fingers still scratching, now just at his nape as he thinks - He did fuck up. It’s monumental, small on the outside, but massive internally as he sniffs and drops his hand. He fucked up a lot with him and Red, made it their new normal, like a mother replacing an old toy with a new one, but it’s just not the same. He wasn’t here enough - he didn’t make him feel enough - not like he did before. And - it was enough for him to call upon this break, that neither of them have spoken about in awhile. He fucked up.- Anyway. -Yeah, anyway.- Sounds like fun. Maybe we can go together or somethin’, yeah?

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[ he doesn’t know what to say. doesn’t really know what to do either. the last few words aren’t quite like a knife. more like stubbing your toe in the middle of the night. expected but unexpected all the same. red’s hand, the one with the ring, tightens in his pocket and he feels the urge to change the subject or else brush past it. they haven’t spoken about it in so long. since it happened, he thinks.

he wonders if that’s normal.

he isn’t one to shy from the heaviness of it. it sinks into his stomach and weighs him down like stone, no more weightlessness. the balloon tethered to his hand has snapped off and floated away, leaving him to hit the ground at full speed.

he feels himself splatter. ]

Yeah. Must be nice.

-He rubs at his neck, because it feels like he fucked up - like he pushed the boundary too far. Like he went over the line in the sand, hurt Red, gut punched him and tossed him over. Suddenly, he feels sick.- Anyway -- -He tries for a grin, and smacks his hand against his arm.- What else you do there? Spill.

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Gyms there are totally different from here. They’re unique. More fun, I think. Think we should implement some of the stuff they got here. I went all the way through and stopped before I could do the Dragon Type guy. I met ‘im. [ he’s watching green the way he always does. taking him in detail by detail like a jigsaw puzzle. trying to get the big picture in the little things that he does.

the ring thing… that hurts. he still wears his. he wonders when that changed, really. no big deal, he tells himself. his hands are hidden and green won’t have to feel bad about it. no big deal, no worries. ]

His name’s Raihan, he’s laid back. Likes posting pics. Cool place, though. You’ll like it.

Yeah? -And he looks at him then, catching his eyes and the way he stares at him just right, vaguely wondering what does he think about when he looks at him like that - thinking is it the same as me. Is it the same - does he remember their memories with each other in this house, when they first moved in and it seemed all too much, all too soon. Their first marriage, their second one, the I do’s, and the I love you’s, does he remember those too; the incorrigible way they fell in love like they got it right on the first try, the hurtful way their friends thought they fell out of it, because the distance was too much. Green wants to ask him, wants to know, if only for his selfish side, his young one if he does - if he remembers lying in bed on Sunday mornings, hanging out on the docks on Monday afternoons, making love on Saturdays, but instead, tries for a smile; and it’s a dash of tired as he yawns out, his eyes glassing up with surface tears from lack of sleep.- Probably go see that guy then, Raihan, or whatever. -He waves a hand, but it isn’t dismissive.- Heard about the gym already, Kotone told me. She’s plannin’ to go over there soon with Ethan. Can’t believe they been together that long. Must be nice, huh.

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Yeah, they do. [ he lifts his hands up to make horns with them, smiling so lopsided that it can’t be construed as anything but genuine humor. he goes as far as to pat the top of green’s hair. the only connection he really made with it that made him get it. ] Their evolution has hard hair. Reminded me of you when you use too much gel.

[ his hand falls a little, fingers curled and brushing against skin. it’s a momentary thing. subtle and sweet but too fast. like maybe it didn’t happen at all. ] What’ve you been doing?

-He clears his throat again, sniffing for a moment before he crosses his arms, because where Red touched him - it burns. So feverish, so baking, igniting over him like a forest fire, eating up his skin, it feels like a hot spell. Green, he’s as cool as water, fluid with his movement, his voice clear from the tap though as he looks at Red sidelong.- Been good. Was actually gonna head to Galar myself in a week. The old man wants me to collect even more data on their dex since new stuff has been spotted, or discovered. But - gonna do that and get ready. -He plays with his own fingers, his right index playing over his left ring one - right where his ring use to be.- I might hit up gyms too. Heard there’s a strong guy over there - righteous man, or something.

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[ he stays where he is, too close and knowing that he is. he feels a little mean doing it. like maybe he’s pushing a button that isn’t a button at all but a bandaid slapped over something deep and festering. maybe he is, he’s not sure. but standing here, in their house, he feels light. like his hand is tethered to a balloon and if the wind picks up just right– well. maybe he’ll be swept right off his feet. ]

Meowth.

Meowth... -He says it back as if the cogs are slow processing all of a sudden, like the wheels in his brain are rusted over and threatening a near stop when Red doesn’t move. He remembers moments like this; by god, he remembers them and cherishes them; these close spaces with Red in the morning, in the afternoons and at night, tucked into the corners of the house, their bed, like a book page carefully dog-tailed over. His heart beats too hard, and honestly, he feels weak-kneed in face of him - feels stupid at how such a small thing, like Red being close to him does this to him. But, he gusts out a warm breath anyway, sifting over some, because -- just because.- I’ll bring the Meowth out in a bit. -His gaze is still to the floor.- Me, a Meowth though? Don’t the Galar ones look kind of ditzy, crazy and crap like that - like - nnngh -- -He points to his face and mimics it the best that he can.-

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HAHA. [ it bursts out of him like bubbles in soda pop, his laugh. it fizzles out of his tongue in small gusts right after. like that was a thought he had too but thought it might just be too mean to say. he shakes his head, flagging a hand and stepping in close because that’s habit, his arm reaching past green to rest the ball on the counter. ]

Nah, I couldn’t find one, surprisingly. [ not exactly a lie. ]

-He notes him getting closer, and it’s there heat bakes inside of him then, boiling-hot, but still sunny searing as he clears his throat yet again, thinking fuck. Fuck. Their shoulders near brush - the distance so air-tight in the minute space, that only atoms tremble between them, on and off. He shakes his head, his hand coming up to scratch a finger along his cheek as he bites his lip into his mouth, because now, his mind is incredibly blank and void of any former thoughts. Old, resurfacing feelings still residing within him be damned.- M’all out of guesses. Just tell me before I bring this thing out unless you wanna count from 3.

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Nope. [ he shakes his head, pulling his hand out of his pocket to show a pink ball. a heal one, obviously. he rolls it between his thumb and forefinger, flicking it up like a coin and snatching it out of the air. ] That’s this one. The one you’re holding suits your– hm. Look, I guess. Personality, maybe. Was easier to catch, too.

You callin’ me easy, Red? -He laughs, the soft chuckles airing out of his throat, then skittering out of his lips, like gravel, as if it’s been so long since he’s heard such a thing. His eyes crinkle at the corners too, his expression softening into one of loving, adored, so warmed up like he’s been baked in sunny heat. He looks at Red head on - and it’s like it’s for the first time all over again before he clears his throat and presses back to lean against the counter.- Anyway - look, personality? -His eyes squint a little, mind rolling the thought.- Uuuuuuuuuh -- -He pulls a face.- -- jackass, did you give me a shitty-lookin’ impidimp?!

#handdheld #ld;dkd

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Guess. [ he sounds amused by the idea of it, his head tipped and his hair messy. he’s cut it since they’ve last seen each other. it sticks up where he wishes it wouldn’t, but that’s how it looks best with red. messy and boyish. he sniffs, the tension here not real….tension. it seems to soft for it. it’s something different but tangible all the same. it fluctuates between painful and sweet. ]

Don’t think you can.

-He huffs out a soft laugh in reply, wondering what it could be inside of here as he rolls the ball in his hand and sniffs it in jest, as if that could work. Red - what would he get him? What Pokemon does he believe would fit him, as he pulls the Pokeball back and wrinkles his nose. He ponders over the thought and sifts through the Pokemon he has cataloged in his brain as he snaps the ball up, the red gleam of it digitizing into it’s normal size, before he catches it with a harsh smack, brows still knitted and his once over thorough.- Let’s see, a sirfetch’d? Kinda wanted one, if I’m honest, so, m’kinda banking on you still knowing me. That’s my final answer.

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freshprinceofpalletown‌:

Uh. -He takes the ball after a moment, his brows drawing close, looking at Red as if he doesn’t know what to say.- Thanks… Wasn’t expecting this when - you know. Yeah.

When what? [ his hands fall, slipping into the pockets of his jeans. a little worn down and beat up the way that red’s things usually are. ] I get you one whenever I go somewhere new.

Know that, but that was when we were together. -He says then, as if it’s matter of fact, his thumb skimming along the curve of the Pokeball, chasing the gleam, as he thinks, he’s here again. He’s alive. He’s real. He forgets it sometimes. On late nights since Red’s left, he forgets it if he’s honest with himself.- Gonna tell me what it is, or am I suppose to guess it?

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I didn’t get any of the starters. I got a bunch of others, though.

[ he holds a ball out. he got him a galar meowth. because they look cool. ] Here. For you.

Uh. -He takes the ball after a moment, his brows drawing close, looking at Red as if he doesn’t know what to say.- Thanks... Wasn’t expecting this when - you know. Yeah.

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I’ve been alive.

Barely seems like. You look dead as shit, Red. You’re welcome for the early info too by the way. Told you the old man knew his stuff.

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