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Gloria looks over at Hop, raising a brow because there’s something just a little off in his voice. He’s picking at his plate of food, not looking at her but at the tattered tapestry behind her – try as Sonia might, it’s proven more difficult to acquire the heirloom from Bob’s Your Uncle. Apparently, the fact that it’s a historic artifact doesn’t override the receipt that the owner has.
Hop opens his mouth to say something else, but a clatter of dishes from the back and a large group a few tables away drown out his voice. It’s a wonder they managed to get a table so quickly during the dinner rush, but then Gloria’s status as Champion definitely comes with some perks.
She leans forward, setting down her mug of cocoa as she asks, “Come again?”
He stifles a smile at how her nose scrunches up, instead simply shrugging as he repeats himself, forcing his voice to be even and calm despite how his leg is bouncing under the table. “I said it’s odd that we’re best mates and rivals and still haven’t traded Pokémon, so we should fix that. Just a quick surprise trade, maybe.”
With a nod she sits back, chewing on her bottom lip as she thinks. He’s right; it’s almost laughable that they’ve been trainers for so long, friends for even longer, and they haven’t ever traded. Then again, their gym challenge was a bit more chaotic than most, and even after the tournament they haven’t really had the time. Gloria considers what Pokémon she would even give him, now that they both have their own well-established teams.
An idea occurs to her, one that has her looking back up at him with a smile as suspicious as his own expression.
“All right, give me a week.”
...
He does, and she worries that it’s still not enough time because she ends up having a slew of challengers that she didn’t expect.
But she makes time for it, sets aside an afternoon because he’s more than worth it, and it’s vital that she gets this particular message across when they’ve been skirting around it for a while now.
Hop is the one who suggests they do it in the front garden of her house on her day off, and she finds herself leaning against the stone wall, nervously patting the Budew at her feet as she fidgets with the Pokéball in her hand.
“Wotcher, Glo!”
Her heart skitters, sinks, and then flies into her throat when she hears his voice, looks over to see him walking over the bridge, with the morning sun outlining his form. Over the years he’s grown taller, and though his smile is still as boyish as ever, his jawline and cheekbones have grown sharper, which she thinks is a silly thing to notice, and an even sillier thing to think about in her daydreams (and yet she goes and does just that).
“Took you long enough,” she teases when she finally gets her voice back, watching him walk up the path and stop just before her as she smirks, “What, did you finally lose your sense of direction like Lee?”
He scowls, but his voice lacks any bite as he slides his hands into the pockets of his joggers and pulling out a Pokéball. “Awfully rude to say to the person who spent several hours catching this for you.”
The words send a thrill down her spine that lands in her stomach and blooms into a pleasant warmth. She wonders if he knows that he’s as charming as he is; she’d tell him every day if it wouldn’t give her away. In fact, she’s tempted to say so now, but her throat’s gone dry so instead she holds out her own Pokéball and an empty hand, finally completing their first official trade.
They stand in silence for a moment, staring at each other before they laugh, eyes going to the ground sheepishly. Hop’s the one who speaks up first, clearing his throat before chuckling, “Is it poor taste to see what we got in front of the other person?”
“I was kind of hoping you’d check right now.” Gloria bites her lip, praying her flush isn’t noticeable.
It is. It derails Hop’s train of thought, leaves him openly staring at her for a moment too long before he shakes his head, refocusing. “On the count of three?”
She gives him a crooked grin. “One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
There’s a flash of light, and then they’re staring with wide eyes as two Applin float down, landing in their outstretched palms and blinking up at them.
Their eyes meet, and he’s gaping at her as she carefully brings the little Applin to her chest, smiling down as the creature lets out a happy little cry. She looks up at Hop, and his own smile is slowly spreading across his lips and Arceus he’s charming, and now she knows she can say it, can tell him all the little things about him that she’s collected over the years and held close to her heart.
But for now, she only laughs. “I suppose great minds think alike.”
All Hop needs is courage and the right opportunity to confess his feelings.
His pokemon believe there's no time like the present.
Read Here at A03
Hop sighs as he rolls the pink Pokeball back and forth across the wooden tabletop. It’s obvious but would this choice make it too obvious? The message the pokemon inside sends is clear-- I want to be with you forever. And just to make it even more clear Hop planned to give a whole speech with the gift too, just so there would no misunderstanding whatsoever.
If he was going to confess, he planned on making it absolutely and irrevocably clear that he loves her, is in love with her. And he wanted to be by her side, not just as a rival, not just as a friend, but as hers, as… her boyfriend. The single word, the idea of being her “boyfriend” causes his cheeks to flare up in crimson red, the color barely discernable on his umber skin tones, but felt decided and present all the same.
Now all he needed was courage and the right opportunity.
The heart-patterned ball stops its roll and a bright bolt of lightning strikes with its opening, revealing its shape, its pokemon inside. Blinking up at him, the Applin wobbles and rolls, dizzy from its tops and turns in the Pokeball. When it gains its composure, the small pokemon blinks up at him, indignant as it wiggles across the table.
“Sorry,” He apologizes to the Applin and sighs.
It took a lot to capture the small pokemon, specifically the one in front of him. Its color is robust, an emerald green, rare in comparison to the rest of its species. The process took time, effort, and a lot of luck. He’d spent every waking moment camping in their natural habitat, studying their mannerisms, interacting with ones that drew close.
And then came this one. The pokemon was shyer than its crimson counterparts, far less trustworthy of his intentions and more likely to run away each day. But it still kept coming back, each day coming closer and closer to his campsite until one day he turned around to serve curry to his awaiting pokemon and found it there, resting on top of Dubwool’s head.
Its special color was a bonus, but it was the personality, the way the pokemon hummed with energy and personality to match its recipient. The way it ran away and came back, its own stubborn refusal to be like the rest, it reminded him of her, of Gloria, the one he’d always known.
The Applin paces in front of him, turns and inches to the window and the view of the evening outside. When it spots something in the sky, the pokemon calls out, alerting him to the presence of a landing Corviknight taxi into the sleepy town of Postwick.
It seemed she was coming in late, again.
From his window, Hop watches his childhood friend stretch, her arms reaching towards the sky. She is later than he’d expected her to be, probably caught up in the responsibilities of Champion back in Wyndon. Tossing her tangled mass of hair over her shoulder, the figure in the distance shrugs, squares her shoulders and prepares to walk into the cottage.
The Applin in front of his calls out, pointing its body in the direction of Gloria’s disappearing figure. It was almost like the pokemon was saying, “Do it now, there’s no time like the present!” Or something. The pokemon is insistent, pushing against the windowpane.
Hop laughs, grabbing the pokemon’s Love Ball. “Okay, maybe it’s time you go back into your ball.”
The bright light shoots out from the balls surrounding the pokemon, taking it in. And almost immediately the pokemon is back out, escaping its ball in a stubborn refusal to be quieted. Indignant, the Applin glares at him, rolling towards the edge of the table, ready to leave for Hop’s confession, whether he is there or not.
As it rolls off the edge of the table, Hop catches the pokemon mid-air, shaking his head sighing. “Okay, okay, I get the point.” It seemed there would be no avoiding it. It would be now or never.
Returning the Applin to its ball once again, Hop pulls out his rotom and shoots Gloria a quick text, holding his breath and waiting for an answer.
Hey Glo, you busy?
Seconds feel like hours while he waits for her answer.
A breath is released with her answer.
No, what’s up?
Okay. Now or never. Placing the pink ball into his pocket, Hop shoots her one last text and runs out the door.
At the bridge that parks the halfway point between his house and hers, Hop waits for Gloria to arrive. Spring nights are crisp in Postwick and this one is no different. Surrounding trees are on the verge of blossoming, the grass pokemon ready to come up from their borrows for warmer weather.
Everywhere, everything is on the verge, of something.
“Hey!” Running breathlessly to him with a smile is Gloria. Tangled locks of hair en mass on every side of her flushed face.
Laughing, he reaches out to place one strand behind her ear. For a second, he swears her face flushes darker, a brighter red, but at his touch, she straightens, clears her throat and her smile falters for the briefest moment.
“So what did you want to talk to me about?” The hand in her pocket seems to fidget as she speaks.
Right to the point. He smiles a bit, runs his hands through his hair, calculating, attempting to craft the speech in his head he was sure would just come to him at this opportune moment. Instead, his mind is blank, full of jumbled phrases of “I love you” and “I always have” and other words that have no place at the beginning of his confession unless they were in some dramatic comic or tv show.
But what comes out first is not a single word, but the pokeball. The Love Ball in his pocket twitches, rolls out, and as he fumbles for the catch, its bright light strikes out and the Applin appears between them instead.
The next moment lasts an eternity and a heartbeat as Hop stands frozen, Love Ball in hand, Applin at their feet. This isn’t how he imagined any of it would go. No part of him can bear to look at the girl on from of him, to see what expression awaits on her face.
“Hop, I--” His name is slow and quiet on her lips, and he winces, prepared for the rejection. Cutting her off to say what he needed to before she could.
“Wait, Glo.” He takes a deep breath. “Let me say my part, please.”
His eyes train on the Pokemon between them, the way it delights and rolls up to Gloria in greeting. “We’ve been friends-- No, wait.”
He tries again, taking in a larger breath for his next words, finally making eye contact with the object of his affections. Her eyes are wide, full of an emotion he couldn’t quite name. Carefully, he takes her hand, and she lets him.
“Glo, we’ve known each other forever, and I don’t know how it began, how things shifted so slowly without my notice, but somewhere along the way, I think, no, I know, I fell in love with you.”
Slowly, Hop intertwines her pale fingers with his, giving enough time and space for her to pull away if she wants. “But, by the time I figured it out, you were miles and mile ahead of me, running fast. I was afraid you’d never slow down, wait for me to catch you, like this.”
He gives her hand a small squeeze, takes one steady breath. “So, now that I’ve caught you, I want to tell you my feelings, completely and absolutely. “Glo, I love you, not as my rival, not as my friend, but as so much more than that.”
The Applin between them bounces, sways from side to side. The pokemon seems to revel in the confession, and he sighs. At least one of them feels comfortable in all this.
“So there, I’ve said my peace. I just wanted you to know.”
Instead of answering, of saying anything at all, Gloria releases her hand from his and takes a step back. From her pocket, she pulls out her own pink Pokeball and releases the pokemon inside. And one Applin becomes two, as a second sleepier Applin joins the first in front of them.
Looking up at him, Gloria smiles ruefully. “You know it’s funny… I’ve been meaning to do this, but as usual… you beat me to the punch. I feel the same. Now, the next question is, and we don’t have to do this now, but” from her other pocket, Gloria pulls out two apples, “Tart or Sweet?
Prompt: HpYu/Postwickshipping Week Day 1, Warm Nights/Cold Nights
WC: 1462
Pair: Hop/Gloria
Notes: All of mine are probably coming a bit late :( I wanted to participate on time but alas. Either way, I adore Hop and Gloria and whole lot so! This Gloria is somewhat custom. Same look as default (unless I state that she’s changed up her style). Her starter is Sobble. Anyway, all these fics will be somewhat related, so long as I can get them all done. Hope these will all read alright!
--
As though the sky wishes to whisper to them a secret, the breeze brushes against their ears. Did they forget to close their tents? These softened words continue even as they groggily rise to check their own status. What if a wild Pokemon starts sniffing around? With the smells of cooked curry, placed at least at, hm, Milcery Rank, has already wagered off, there shouldn’t be any sort of thing left that could have lured them over, but one can never really predict the habits of a warm-meal loving untamed creature.
“It’s... cold tonight...”
A tremendous observation by Gloria. If she had more company, it’d be astute. How unavoidable, this is. A lonesome night builds character, and there needs to be time apart, but goodness does it chill more and more.
“I wonder... if Hop is feeling the cold too...”
She has a feeling, through these whisps, that he is. So she decides to get up for a bit, to think about what things are now, and what things could be. Gloria notices that beside her, her Intelleon gets up too.
“I know, I know,” Gloria says to it, “I think... I want to see why the air’s calling me.”
And in that statement, she hands her blanket to it and slips out of the tent. Naturally, it follows behind her, so it could put the blanket over her shoulder. Always, since it was a little Sobble, since she and it became partners, it’d support her, help her.
“Thank you,” she smiles, pulling the blanket more firmly over herself, glancing up to the sky. It’s a clear night, full of stars. If she looks close enough, maybe she could see a shooting star, and maybe she could make a wish. Even if that energy isn’t something she’d jump to collect, she’d like to think that her hopes could still get across.
Together, this journey has been about being together, even if they’re not.
“No matter what, we’re not that far apart,” Gloria tells every light in the sky, glancing then to her Rotom Phone, which is now floating beside her. It’s late, but should she try calling him? Would he answer? She pulls in her knees, and closes her eyes, imagining once more what’d feel like to be sitting next to him right now, staring up, trying to figure out home many Pokemon they can make out within the stars.
She feels warmer now. If only by just a little bit.
Her finger hover near her phone’s screen. Thinking, wondering, would it be alright? Really, she’d like it if they were camping together, she’d like it if they could step through each portion of their journeys together, but she knows, knows that they have their own paths to cross. She’s glad, glad he seems like he’s doing better now.
“Intelleon, should I have said something?” She asks, scratching her chin, a small awkward laugh in her voice, “do you think he would have let me-”
“Bzzt, call connected!”
“-hold his hand again? ...Huh?”
Upon earing her Rotom’s confirmation voice, Gloria immediately turns back to her phone screen. It’s then that she notices, and allows it to settle, that she unconsciously, actually called Hop. It must’ve been the lightest, most accidental of taps, but now, now here she is. Here they are.
“All right? Hold who’s hand, mate?”
“Oh, umm... umm! A hypothetical! Someone had a... umm... an adorable Pokemon, and I was just wondering if it would’ve let me play with it...”
“I see! Haha, friendly’s always been your push.”
“Right you are!” Gloria chirps back, hoping anything works to change the subject. She’ll succeed, somehow, because the both of them are oh so great at being unaware of the other’s deepest affections. “...Did I wake you?”
“Nah, you’re swell, Glo,” Hop answers, “I was just thinking ‘bout calling you up, actually. Didn’t know if you were awake, but I can’t sleep.”
“Cold out for you?”
“Yeah, dunno why it’s this chilly.”
Honestly, Gloria finds herself much more warm now. Almost as though he actually is right next to her. Just like back when they set out from Postwick, just like that very first night in the Wild Area, they might not be present physically, but it feels like it’s just like that all the same.
“You’ve got your sweater on, don’t you?”
“‘Course I do! Intelleon brought my blanket out too. Cinderace and Dubwool keeping you plenty cozy?”
She can see Dubwool fast asleep in the corner of the screen and Cinderace pops into view as soon as she mentions it, so her answer seems to have been received. But she wishes to hear it from him directly. Does she want to hear his voice more? Maybe, maybe, that’s the case. She’s always been able to listen to him, him and all his excited babbles about Leon and the championship and people and dreams.
There’s a place for him, and her too. He’s helped her be sure of that. So she’s glad that he’s gotten the confidence about himself back into his brain. He deserves it, and all the affection that along with it.
“Fully so!”
“I’m glad!”
What to say? What can bring them back to being able to sleep? What did the winds want them to share? Was it just that that caused them to be in this moment, just now? Gloria looks closely at his expression, seeing the gentleness in his observation of the above. Has he always looked this way?
He’s really right here, isn’t he? I’m so...
“Hey, hey, Hop, remember when-”
“We were kids, camping?” He finishes for her, causing the both of them burst into laughter. They’ve been like this... since forever, haven’t they? Who was she before she met Hop? Where even was she? There’s no answer to that, since she’s better because he’s been beside her, because they’ve supported each other, because they’re true rivals!
“Yeah, yeah! It was just me and you, and Wooloo too, then.”
“Bet I do! It was dark out, but I,” he breaks his sentence up with a bit of a flustered chuckle, “wanted to camp outside, because Lee did that and got really strong.”
“Uh-huh! Your mum almost just told us to make a tent in your room instead, but it was warm outside, so she let it slide.”
“Glad she did. That night was grand!”
“It was the first time we ever camped together, outdoors, and I hoped it wouldn’t be our last... I had a lot of fun, even though we weren’t really allowed to cook anything.”
“We leaned against Wooloo and counted the stars...”
“Wooloo sleeping made me fall asleep first...”
When another cold wind passes by, Intelleon nudges her to at least return to her tent, which she complies with, as long as she can stay on the line. The inside of it feels cozy, welcoming. Like a hug. Her gut was correct, right from the start.
With each step comes more reminiscing. A full chorus of giggles that their Pokemon fall for too. That’s just them, Hop and Gloria. Postwick’s little, adored duo. Trainers endorsed by the champion himself! One of them, one of them will be the one to usurp him. It’s set in their hearts; they’ve sworn on it!
Thus, she lays back down, taking her phone in her hand after drawing her blanket up to cover her. She rests her other hand out, and though it should have met the cold, it doesn’t. It’s like he’s right next to her, forehead-to-forehead, hand-in-hand. Just like when they were children.
This time, though, there’s no parents coming outside to pick her up while Hop groggily follows behind, grabbing at her hand with tiny fingers. It’s rather different, even if the energy is ever similar. Together, in their lives, forever.
She feels her eyelids getting heavier. She doesn’t want to stop the conversation yet. She doesn’t want to fall asleep yet. It’ll be a dream, sure, but she wants to make sure it stays in reality. “Hop... I...”
“Sleepy? Haha, we’ve both been hard at work.”
“Mmmhmm.”
Until the day they can admit it to each other, or even until the day they can really say it to themselves, they’ll just keep indirectly doing things for each other, just like this, won’t they? Staying on the phone until they’re both well and sleepy, lending the other an ear when they’re super down in the dumps, being the other’s best mate. Their Pokemon, maybe even everyone around them, know all too well that their trainers are all too unaware of each other’s feelings, even though they rely on each other so much, even though they adore each other so much.
