The evening started like most others. Or at least, how Low imagined most others started. He showed up at the café, trying to act casual. He had obtained tickets to an inter-regional passenger plane that was based in Mistralton; the tickets cost him a fortune, so his dad wouldn’t be happy when he got the bill later, but that wasn’t important at the moment. What was, was the small creak that came with the opening of the café door, and the fiery head of hair that accompanied it.
“Are you ready, Low?” The man attached to the hair said, taking large strides past his “date” Low. Low nodded, smiling lightly. The man, a hothead aptly-named Chili, was wearing a black jacket with big buttons, a black trench coat, and a scarf with a flame pattern on it, all of which probably being designer labels that cost as much as Low’s tickets. A Drifblim was stationed nearby to take them to the airport; a special service that the Undella travel agency threw in, with a little extra hit to whatever trust Low’s dad still had in him. That wasn’t important, though.
“As I’ll ever be,” Low responded, trying desperately to keep his voice even. He was messing with the hem of his shirt; his mother was from Johto, and thus his styles tended towards more oriental fare that she made for him. In this case, it was an outfit that he thought she’d called a Hakama, black on top with purple “pants”, though Low knew that wasn’t the right word for them. Still, he thought it looked cool, if a bit out-of-place for the middle of Unova.
“Then let’s go!” Chili responded, pointing to the Drifblim dramatically and starting off. The Drifblim, obediantly, took the boys up and away. The flight was mostly silent and awkward, with Low trying hard not to make it awkward, but failing miserably. He tried once or twice to start a conversation, but he couldn’t come up with anything substantial. At least, anything that he didn’t end up pittering out on after a single response.
The flight to Johto had a similar awkwardness to it. The check-in being nondescript in every way, (sans Chili getting patted down by a particularly grumpy-looking security guard), the flight was met with a sort of awkward silence that Chili seemed to remedy by staring out the window blankly while Low blushed and tried to come up with a topic to talk about. This silence continued on to touchdown, just as Low thought that he had something to talk about. A stewardess came to get them and took them outside to a Ferry. It was the last run the ferry was doing that night before going off to do their own festivities, and so the captain was rather grumpy when he addressed the few passengers he had, Low and Chili included.
“All right,” He said, in a way that made Chili suspect he’d been into the New Years Champagne already, “We’re going inland to Goldenrod now. Keep your hands inside at all times, unless you wanna be fish food.” He had a bit of an accent, but Low wasn’t sure what to do. However, he started blushing when Chili scooted into him; a response to a rather hefty couple getting onto the boat and finding that, instead of sitting in any of the open seats, they wanted the tiny seat next to Chili. Low was speechless and flustered, but Chili just snickered.
“But what if we want to be fish food?” Chili joked, probably trying to get on the captains nerves. He was succeeding, even if that wasn’t the plan. He was leaning over Low and waving his hands over the water. A Qwilfish seized the opportunity and jumped out of the water at him, causing him to retract his hand. Low giggled a little, but Chili just stared at the sea. He didn’t know the captain was being that serious!
Other than that episode, the boat ride was about as exciting as a bag of air. The two arrived in-town and at Whitney’s gym with little affair. They were greeted by a rather grumpy-looking doorman who must not have wanted to work on New Years, but needed the money. He waved them in when he noticed that they weren’t going away, leading them into the grand party room.
Everyone was in formal attire. Thankfully for Low’s mental state, he wasn’t the only one in more traditional clothing; others, most likely natives, were wearing kimonos or hakamas themselves. Some might have even been from Kanto. It was hard to tell. Of course, most were in more westernized clothing; tuxedos were commonplace on the dancefloor, and the girls were all wearing fancy dresses and the like. He was glad that he wasn’t out-of-place, but it was hard to tell who he was with, unlike some dates who had coordinated outfits or some such. He looked to his date, but he was already headed for the punch bowl. Possibly to talk to someone.
Low, not used to these formal party situations, just found an open table and sat at it. He took a moment to examine the decor. The place was naturally bright and colorful, but the lights were turned down for the festivities. Lanterns were hung from the ceiling, and Low could swear that the centerpiece hanging in midair was a Chandelure. The walkways above their hears were being used as an auxiliary dance floor, but most of the dancing was being done on the ground level.
Chili came back as Low was taking it all in. “Punch?” He asked, handing a cup to Low.
“Th-Thanks...” The psychic responded, taking the cup and trying hard not to blush. He thought he heard Chili laugh a little bit. That did the trick.
“Hey, why don’t you dance with me?” Chili suggested. Low almost spit his punch out, which made Chili laugh a little. “Why so shocked? You are my date, afterall.” Low nodded, swallowing his punch and getting up, to be dragged off by his date and up onto the elevated dancefloor. The music became one of a more latin flavor; not the fast-paced latin that most think of, but that slow lating that calls for only one style of dance: the tango.
“Wait, no, I can’t do the tan-” Low started, but he was cut off as Chili pulled him close and started to dance. Low followed best he could, but his face was beat red. He felt like everyone was watching him. Which may have been true, as a spotlight was shining on them.
“I called in a few favors,” Chili said when he saw Low’s confusion. Low nodded.
“But... I don’t know this dance,” The younger of the two said.
“That’s fine,” Chili said, “Just follow me. Oh, and I should warn you-” he turned suddenly and brought Low down in a dip, “-too late.” He smiled a coy smile that made Low blush redder, if such were possible, and brought him back up, leading him back across the walkway.
“I-I’m sorry I can’t dance too well,” Low said, trying hard to avert his eyes. He was dipped again.
“Who said that?” Chili asked, carefully turning Low’s head, so that he could look into his violet eyes. “You have beautiful eyes,” Chili teased, “So don’t hide them from me.” Then, when the pause was just enough for the crowd to take it in and the music to go on, he brought them back up and continued.
Low was trying hard to keep up. He had no training in dance, while he was sure Chili did. His biggest priority, though, was not disappointing Chili. He figured it be a bit of an endeavor to to so, but it was worth it.
“You’re so tense, Low,” He heard, bringing him out of his concentration, “You should loosen up, feel the music.” He laughed lightly, making Low blush. He tried to bring his focus up from his feet and up to Chili’s face. The face of a young man, smiling coyly, laughing a little... “It’s okay to be a little nervous, though.” And with that, Low was swept away.
The dancing moved on, after awhile, leaving Chili and Low to mingle. But Low couldn’t get the dance out of his head; the rhythm, the movement... He’d never seen Chili dance before, but tonight he had felt it. There bodies in almost-perfect sync, bodies close, breathing together, his hands firm on his waist...
“Hey, Low,” He heard Chili call him, “It’s almost midnight.”
“Y-Yeah,” Low replied, though a little confused. It was New Years, but he wasn’t sure why Chili wanted him over to be with him, besides that they were there together.
“And I have a little something for you,” He continued, his coy smile appearing again. Low blushed.
“And wh-what would that be?” The psychic asked, trying hard not to appear nervous.
“You’ll see,” Was his date’s response. Low’s mind was racing with questions like “But, New Years isn’t a gift-giving holiday...” and “What could it be..?” It was then that he noticed the timer that had been erected on the far wall of the gym. He must not have noticed it earlier; either they just put it up, or he was just that absorbed in the dance.
“Ten!” Low jumped a little, surprised, but more because he had forgotten about the countdown and less from it’s volume.
“Nine!” Chili smiled and grabbed Low’s hand.
“Eight!” Low jumped and turned to meet Chili.
“Seven!” Low tilted his head quizzically at Chili.
“Six!” Chili smiled.
“Five!” Low blushed.
“Four!” Chili leaned into Low.
“Three!” Low blushed further.
“Two!” Chili’s lips met Low’s forehead.
“One!” Low could have sworned he was going to faint.
“Zero!” The world around them was partying, but Low was lost as Chili lifted his head back.
“Happy new year!” Chili said, poking he spot he had just kissed.
