notes: ehh I found this in my drive and it's technically unfinished, but I don't have the time or energy to edit so I'm just posting it. Hopefully you can get something out of this, I don't know.
Game of Chase
...
Volkner's all windswept blond hair, electric blue eyes, and dazzling smiles. They've been best friends since childhood, from the time they first met in a park one rainy day, two hot-headed young trainers full of ambition. As kids, they used to have a sort of love-hate relationship. Flint supposes they still do.
Or maybe it's just him.
"I have a girlfriend," Volkner tells him over the phone one day. The redheaded trainer forces himself to laugh, but it's half-hearted.
"Good for you, man," he says, his heart breaking anyway.
.
.
.
"You love him."
It's more of a statement than a question. Cynthia is gazing at him expectantly, the slightest hint of a smirk on her lips. He stops breathing for a second.
"What do you mean?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Flint. I know how you feel about him." At that, he flushes a shade of red that matches his hair. "The way you talk about him, call him every weekend. I'm surprised he hasn't even figured it out yet."
Flint considers denying it, but he knows she won't believe him. Instead, he finds himself surrendering.
"Is it really that obvious?" he mumbles. She laughs and slaps him on the back encouragingly, and he winces.
"Go tell him. It'll save you both a lot of heartache."
.
.
.
Volkner still calls him every weekend, but now Flint's the one who doesn't pick up his phone. He lets it ring to death and tries to ignore it. Instead, he grabs a bowl of chips, props his feet up on the table, and turns on the TV.
Five hours and three movies later, he realizes that he's not good at being depressed. That's more of Volkner's thing.
.
.
.
They're at the annual League party, and although Flint would rather be anywhere else than here, he can't help but notice how handsome Volkner looks in a tuxedo. It's hot and stuffy in the hallway, so he starts loosening his own tie with a grimace. He hates formal events; he wouldn't even have come if Cynthia hadn't forced him to. Not to mention Volkner was bugging him about it all week.
He'd been trying to avoid Volkner at the party, but to his dismay, the other suddenly notices him standing near the wall. "Hey, Flint!" the blond calls out. "Over here!" Annoyed, Flint sighs when he realizes he has no other choice but to come over.
"You came," Volkner says, sounding somewhat surprised, when he arrives.
"I didn't want to," the redhead grumbles.
His best friend looks at him for a moment more, then shrugs. "This is Jasmine," he says, introducing his date. The girl at his arm smiles shyly.
"Jasmine, this is my best friend Flint."
"Nice to meet you," she says sweetly. Flint dutifully echoes her words, but at the same time wishing he were more than just a "best friend."
"Did you come by yourself, then?" Volkner asks.
He's about to nod when he remembers: he asked some girl he barely knows, just so he wouldn't seem lame. She has appeared beside him now, giving him a pointed look.
"Oh yeah." He coughs to hide his unease. "This is Candice, but I'm sure you two already know each other."
The dark-haired girl by his side greets Volkner enthusiastically, but the blond locks gazes with Flint. His eyes are asking a question. Cursing under his breath, Flint looks away.
Volkner knows him too well.
.
.
.
"Why would I like someone like him? He's a jerk."
Cynthia smiles, in that all-knowing way of hers. She always does that when she knows something he doesn't, which infuriates him to no end.
"You know, Flint, they say you always hurt the one you love."
And even he doesn't have an answer to that.
.
.
.
"What's up with you, man? You've been avoiding me all night." Volkner finally confronts him as he's leaving the party. Idly, he wonders where Jasmine is; she's practically been attached to the blond all night. Their puppy love almost makes him want to throw up.
"I'm just getting some fresh air," Flint lies. His best friend doesn't look convinced.
"You're leaving already? What about your date?"
The redhead shrugs. "She won't care anyway."
"I didn't know you talked to Candice," Volkner says, changing the subject, to Flint's relief.
"I don't."
"Why'd you ask her to the party then?"
"I don't know." Because I wanted to make you jealous, as stupid as that sounds.
"Seriously, what's your problem?" The blond Gym Leader's expression is a mix of concern and annoyance. Somewhere within his mind, Flint knows he's being petty and even childish, but his pride refuses to let him acknowledge that.
"It's nothing," he says instead, trying to make his voice as nonchalant as possible.
"Don't give me that," Volkner persists. "We haven't talked in weeks and I'm—"
He's abruptly cut off as Flint grabs his collar and shoves him into the wall. Volkner stares up at him with narrowed eyes, his breathing heavy. They're face to face and the redhead can practically taste the other's breath and suddenly he wants to get away from here, anywhere but here.
"W-what the heck, man?"
Despite himself, Flint grins. He's just realized how crazy this whole situation is: he has a crush on his best friend and now he thinks he's going insane. He doesn't know what he's doing anymore.
"I think I'm in love with you, idiot."
Before he can think twice, he slams their lips together and then lets go. Volkner winces as he hits the ground and rubs the back of his head.
"Jerk. You should've told me that earlier."
But he's grinning anyway.