Heeey, it's my first upload on here :D Bonus points if you find a reference to my favorite comedian.
"We're going to die."
"Stop it, Cheren," Hilbert replied, exasperated, gripping his upper arms and trying to warm them, moving his hands up and down. "I'm sure Clay will be back soon for us."
"We're going to die," the bespectacled boy moaned again, his forehead introducing itself to the metal door. "We're going to be discovered five hundred years from now by an advanced race, as giant meaty ice blocks. They will dissect us, laugh at our puny and short lives, and then write about us. Or... or put us in holographic textbooks! That is our fate." Cheren curled a pale, shaking hand into a fist and slammed it against the grating. His teeth were chattering. "You hear me, you stupid, lazyass workers? GETUSOUTOFHERE!" His voice rose several pitches at the command. "Oh gods, you must hear us! Open the damn door!"
Hilbert was still interested in one part of Cheren's rant. Apparently, his best friend's geekiness had no freezing point. "Holographic textbooks," Hilbert repeated, still unable to let that one go. He tilted his head to the left, his eyes rolling towards the ceiling of the storage box they were snugly nestled in. "Hmm... I wonder if they'll have holographic porn."
Cheren threw him such a filthy glare that Hilbert grinned in response, although he quickly shut his mouth to try and prevent more heat escaping from his body. The teenager couldn't help but offer light jokes, trying to soothe Cheren's desperate fear of freezing to death. Not that he wasn't a little scared himself, mind, but if both of them were panicky then the chances of them escaping in one piece was unlikely.
But, man, even his eyeballs felt like they were frozen solid. He entertained himself with thoughts of the futuristic race and their forms of entertainment, when a gasp and a sound not unlike slapping one's forehead jolted him back to Earth.
"The Xtransceiver!" Cheren yelped all of a sudden, spinning away from the door with surprising speed and grabbing fistfulls of Hilbert's jacket. Hilbert admired the way Cheren didn't slip and fall; those shoes didn't seem the best to wear on iced floors.
Oh damnit, he was going delirious with all of these stupid thoughts.
"Who am I supposed to call, dude? My mom? I never really figured out how to call anyone on this thing, I usually wait until they ring me up instead..." His answer was lame and he knew it; Hilbert smiled weakly, hoping to diffuse Cheren's anger. He rarely saw his friend so pissed; usually he was apathetic, or at worst, snide and prideful. The cold was really getting to him.
Cheren's eye twitched, and he looked like he was about to sock his friend in the jaw when he let go of him instead, disgusted. His expression changed to one of quick hope, but Hilbert braced himself; most likely he'd be shot down again. "What about-"
"Our Pokémon are exhausted from trying to bust open the door, and mine were already hurt from battling Team Plasma," Hilbert cut in, tiredly. They had argued in circles, but it was keeping them awake, at any rate. "I don't think we're at the point for trying anything desperate like working them to death, Cheren."
"Oh." The word was needlessly quiet, and whispered so softly that Hilbert might not have heard it, had he not been mere inches from the other's face. Deceptive calm molded Cheren's features; a cold swirl of breath curled from his mouth, giving Hilbert an impression of an Ice-type Dragon, with Hilbert as a weak little Patrat in comparison.
He had just driven into Fuckville.
"Oh, I see. So, you're not desperate, which means I should just be perfectly calm too, right? Yes, I see, Hilbert"-he boy in question winced at his name; Cheren never said it unless he was annoyed- "I understand now."
"Cheren."
"Just shut up. I hate talking to you right now, because it kills my brain cells. I'd rather be stuck in here with Bianca."
The brown-eyed Trainer tried not to look or feel too offended, for several reasons. There was nothing wrong with Bianca (nothing too wrong); the girl was sweet and bubbly and always willing to listen to Cheren's raving on and on about proper Pokémonhandling or what types were most effective against other types, or some other nonsense, like about another region's usage of Poffins. Hilbert mainly chatted to her about videogames until she grew bored – she was awful at them, but not as bad as Cheren, who would complain that "the plot makes no sense," or "what the hell is that guy wearing? Is he going to a meeting, or is he a harem boy?" And Bianca would chime in innocently, "What's a harem boy?"
The conversations always went downhill from there, but still. Hilbert couldn't help but be a bit indignant on her behalf... and on his own.
Still, Hilbert decided the best thing to do was to keep his mouth firmly shut. Cheren, he reminded himself, was just scared and cold, things he sympathized heavily with – emphasis on the latter. Indeed, he felt a stab of pity when the darker-haired boy curled up near the door, his ear close to the metal, hoping in vain for someone to hear them and come on by.
Cheren had always nursed a fear of snow and cold weather in general. Hilbert traced it back to 8 years ago when they were small (well, smaller than usual). His friend had gotten rather fond of a cute Audino that used to wander shyly into their town square, something unusual for a wild Pokemon to do. The sweet creature was attracted to the smell of food and perfume usually clinging to Bianca when she left her house, and expectantly sat infront of the three, stunned children, as though waiting to be fed, like she was a domesticated Lillipup or something. Bianca's father warned them not to be too friendly with wild Pokémon or else they'd never leave them alone, but Cheren had steadfastly ignored this, fascinated by the Audino's mannerly eating habits and her love of curing injured Pokémon. Hilbert's earliest memory of the two of them was that of Cheren trying to coax the animal closer with a ripe Pecha berry so he could study her.
But the Audino was not to be kept like a pet, and she knew it more than anyone else. When winter came and the ground was blanketed in snow, Cheren remained glued to the windows in the back of his house, his wide, glassless eyes staring worriedly to the north. He paced around in his room upstairs, fuming that he wasn't allowed to go outside because he was sick and feverish. His mother had tried comforting her son by telling him that Pokémon could handle themselves, especially in the wild, and that the Audino was probably sleeping somewhere warmer and comfortable, that she was used to being on its own and could fend for herself. But Cheren was not to be fooled. The reason the Audino had gotten so friendly with the children was that she was used to being around people. She always looked uncomfortable when she had to return to the tall grasses.
Someone had abandoned her.
Hilbert's mother had deduced this when the Audino had stared sadly at a little girl and her Herdier, noting quietly to Hilbert that "those are the eyes of someone left behind, dear." Hilbert was very young and didn't understand the meaning of loneliness; he had his friends, and he had his mom, and he had his dad, however sporadically the man decided to visit. In his own comfortable little world, he imagined the Audino (which Bianca had aptly nicknamed 'Audi') frolicked around in the snow with her companions, probably nibbling on the berries that grew in the winter.
He was so very wrong, and he regretted it to this day.
Not too long after meeting Audi, Cheren's mother called Hilbert's on one chilly night, meekly asking if Hilbert wouldn't mind coming over to their house to "comfort Cheren." The boy had been confused, thinking that maybe Cheren was bored of being cooped up in his room due to illness, so he threw on his jacket and jogged outside.
When he ascended the stairs leading to Cheren's room, he could hear Bianca trying to soothe someone's heart-wrenching sobs, and upon peeking into the room, Hilbert had to clap a hand over his mouth to prevent a distressed cry.
In Cheren's trembling arms, Audi lay curled up against his chest, her eyelids glittering. When Hilbert inched closer he noticed that the light in Cheren's room made it look like Audi had sparkling eyes, but to Hilbert's shock, the boy realized that the Pokémon's eyes were frozen shut.
Audi was dead.
Cheren's dad would later pull Hilbert aside for a fatherly, serious chat, spilling the story quickly so that it might not reach his own son's ears. Cheren had snuck outside after lunch to go find Audi and bring her some food, but when he entered the tall grass he was attacked by a Purrloin. Cheren screamed, and the sound didn't even carry over completely to the town before Audi leapt from the bushes nearby and attacked the wild Pokémon. Cheren had hovered close by, unable to form a command or call out an attack, simply watching anxiously for Audi to defeat the Purrloin. But evidently Audi had been unused to combat after so long, and she fell within minutes, the Purrloin stalking away with a pleasured hiss. Too weak to even heal herself, Cheren struggled to bring Audi back to his home, but the boy's sickness caught up with him and, combined with the Audino's weight, he collapsed. Fearing for the human's safety, Audi managed to heal Cheren enough to wake him up, but it was too late for herself by the time the town's cop found them – a bloodied Audino and an inconsolable little boy.
Cheren had been hysterical to the point of kicking at anyone who tried to pull Audi away from him, and he insisted on burying Audi himself, shoveling snow and dirt away with his own hands. Hilbert had never seen him so devoted to anything before, and he would not see that sharp glimmer in his friend's eyes until several years later when a Snivy allowed itself to be picked up in Cheren's shaking hands.
Cheren lashed out when he felt Hilbert scoot closer to him; he'd been absorbed in listening for any small noises on the other side. "What are you doing?"
"Compromising your personal space for a second."
"That's not the only thing you're compromising."
"Mmmm," was Hilbert's response, and when he looked back on it days later, he wondered what it meant: a simple, noncommittal sound, or maybe it was Cheren's shower gel. The teenager slung an arm around his friend's shoulders, discreetly dragging him closer to his chest. Cheren glared up at him.
Hilbert resisted the urge to spout the cliché "you're so cute when you're mad." "Feel any warmer?" he inquired innocently. Really, he hoped that Cheren would later thank him for his valiant efforts at calming him down. It wasn't like Hilbert enjoyed being so close to his very male, seemingly straight best friend.
Maybe he did, just a little.
"A bit," the other boy remarked dryly, "because I'm distracting myself with ways to kill you."
He buried his face in the crook of Hilbert's neck, probably trying to steal some body heat within the jacket, or to hide himself – Hilbert didn't mind either way. An idea began formulating in his mind, and he acted on it before he could think about it too much. After all, Hilbert could later claim that it was the discomfort and hunger that made him do it. Testing he waters some, he slid his arm down until it was at Cheren's waist, and he rubbed his palm in small circles in the boy's back. On a basic level it seemed to be a comforting, friendly gesture, yet Cheren flinched when Hilbert's fingertips seemed to linger longer than necessary. When Cheren didn't maul him, Hilbert decided it was safe to use his other hand to tip up the boy's chin and lean forward-
The Trainer received a surprisingly quick whack to the face. "You are not wooing me simply because I'm cold and allowing you to touch me," his friend snarked. "Don't try that again."
"You didn't have to hit me," Hilbert snapped. "I just got the idea that you didn't mind it so much, so." He dropped his hand to rub tenderly at his stinging cheek, but it was, he added reluctantly, a bit warmer now at least.
"Pardon for not liking it when my best friend takes advantage of me, then."
Hilbert pouted, not liking the rough, disapproving tone in his friend's voice. "I wasn't taking advantage of you, I was just – screw it, I'm hungry and bored and wanted to kiss you. Is that so wrong?"
"Is that all you ever think about when we're alone?" Despite the sneer, Cheren sounded more amused than annoyed. He crossed his arms lightly, still looking a bit uncomfortable at Hilbert's close proximity, though the other Trainer ignored that, leaving his arms where they were.
Hilbert admitted, "Sometimes. ...I mean, it's not all I think about," he added defensively. The Trainer exhaled sharply, watching his breath fog up. "I think about a lot of things, Cheren." The black-haired boy's eyebrows rose questioningly, so Hilbert decided to elaborate. "You and Bianca. My team. Food. Finding somewhere to camp where I won't be attacked by Bug-types. More food. N, occasionally, and what his deal is. Why Team Plasma all have red hair."
"I vote for inbreeding."
"Or Ghetsis has a fetish for redheads."
"Why just Ghetsis? Could be N, too."
Cheren seemed bent on steering conversation away from Hilbert's seemingly-sudden lust for him, and he relented for the time being. He looked more relaxed, and that pleased Hilbert.
"I dunno, N seemed kind of fond of me... He must like brunettes, then. Or whatever you call guys with brown hair." Hilbert leaned forward with a maniacal grin, causing Cheren to lean back in alarm. "Wanna hear my theory about N's-"
"No, no I do not, whatever you were about to say." Cheren covered his face with one hand, but beneath his fingers, he was smiling... A good sign. Hilbert bumped his forehead against his friend's – it was something they used to do as children when they argued. Perhaps the reminder that Hilbert had always been there for Cheren made the other boy lower his hand and look at him for a moment, really just... look at him. His lips parted, and Hilbert fought himself to be sure his face didn't split into a shit-eating grin as he victoriously waited for the -
– harsh, metallic roar and light streaming into the box.
The fucking cavalry arrived at that point in the forms of an overly smug Krokorok and Clay. The Gym Leader stood before them in all of his glorious manliness, looking rather impressive with his arms crossed and his teal-colored crotch – er, business pants, Hilbert amended. It always made him stare despite his fervent wishes not to. "There ya are, boys! Was wondrin' where ya ran off ta, when ya didn't bother showin' up fer a Gym bat-"
The Miner King abruptly stopped talking when the noticed the stricken Trainers gripping each other firmly, their faces rather close, and staring, wide-eyed, up at him. "...-tle."
Hilbert desperately tried to conjure up a proper excuse from the chilly air, but good ol' Cheren came to his rescue. "This moron attempted to seduce me after Team Plasma was taken away and shut the door, smartly locking the both of us in here, and he would have ripped off my clothes had you not showed up. Sir," he added smoothly.
That bastard.
"Oh," Clay said simply, not a man of elegant words... or elegant responses. "Um. In tha' case, jus'... git th' hell outta here, 'fore this image is ingrained in m' mind forever." He took off his hat awkwardly, playing with the brim of it before planting it back on his head, sneakily covering his eyes. The crafty-looking Krokorok glanced up at his Trainer, wondering why the man looked so disturbed. "Well, git!"
"Yes sir!"
Hilbert propelled Cheren out of the Cold Storage by the nape of his neck, swearing that next time, rather than a Pokemon battle, he'd just beat the shit out of him instead. Or bang him senseless.
Depended on his mood.