Author's Note: Since writing Full Restore, I've been driving myself crazy trying to figure out if I ship these two or not. And then I remembered that queerplatonic partnerships are a thing, and everything fell into place, and this plot bunny would not leave my brainthoughts. And I was already projecting so hard onto Volkner, I figured I might as well go all-in on the shameless self-indulgent LGBTQ headcanon fluff. I regret nothing.

They hadn't actually intended to watch a movie. Flint had just been flipping through the channels, and there it was, their favorite childhood film; a heartwarming story about a Shinx and a Houndour growing up together, and the misadventures they had in the lengths they would go to for each other.

So now Flint was relaxing with his arms draped across the back of the couch. Volkner sat in the middle, with his feet up on the opposite side, leaning back against Flint, his head resting on his shoulder. It was something that had just… started happening lately. It seemed natural, seemed right. Both of them were dimly aware that this deviated from what was normally expected of a friendship, even one as close as theirs. Neither of them had said anything about it. Yet.

"Flint."

The Elite Four member made a small noise of acknowledgement without looking away from the screen. The Houndour, despite his fire-typing, was braving rough waters on the back of a friendly Wartortle in an effort to reunite with his friend, who had been swept out to sea in a floating box by accident.

"What are we?"

For a moment, he did not respond. Then, he sighed, and muted the TV. "I've been wondering the same thing, lately," he admitted.

The weight he hadn't really been aware of lifted from his shoulder as Volkner sat up and put his feet on the floor. The blond leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, head turned to regard Flint curiously. There was a long silence.

They'd known each other for practically their whole lives. There had naturally been ups and downs, and Flint had long ago learned to ignore the on-and-off crush that popped up occasionally. After all, he knew that was all it was – an intermittent crush. His friendship with the man was far too important to him to risk over such passing fancies. Did Volkner want to change that?

Flint looked at the floor, feeling oddly awkward about this whole thing. "Well," he said, "you know I go both ways, Volk. If you want to try dating…"

Another long silence. He glanced over; the gym leader was staring at his shoes, brow furrowed lightly in thought. "No," he said eventually.

The blond opened his mouth to say something more, then closed it. He did this several more times. Volkner had a way with words when it came to all things technical, describing complex engineering concepts so elegantly that even Flint understood them, but in this, he was out of his element, and needed time to find his words. The redhead waited patiently.

"I love you," he said at last, "but I'm not in love with you, I don't think."

A moment later, something seemed to occur to Volkner, and he looked up, one eyebrow raised. "That… doesn't disappoint you, I hope?"

"Not at all," Flint assured him, feeling oddly… relieved? It wasn't that he was averse to the idea of dating his friend, or he wouldn't have suggested it; hell, those 'passing fancies' had often demanded just that. But something about it simply felt off.

Admittedly, the importance of their friendship wasn't the only reason Flint had always just kept quiet about any inconvenient feelings. There was also the fact that he was fairly sure Volkner simply didn't swing that way – or any way at all, for that matter. The blond was infamously disinterested, much to the disappointment of countless trainers who'd hoped to spark more than just a passion for battling in his heart. Flint had long suspected he was some variation of asexual, and possibly aromantic as well – it was fairly hard to tell with Volkner, and the man himself had shown absolutely no motivation to seek out a label. He'd never been one to try to fit himself into neatly labeled boxes. In fact, an interviewer (who really had absolutely no right to pry into the gym leader's personal life, but that was neither here nor there) had even asked him about his sexuality once, and had only gotten a shrug for a response.

Maybe this was one of those things, where a shrug was the only answer one could give.

Volkner straightened up and looked thoughtfully at the television for a minute. "I think… we have what they have," he said, gesturing at the screen. By the end of the film, the Shinx and the Houndour had grown into a powerful Luxray and Houndoom risking life and limb for one another. Each had a mate and family of their own, yet it was still abundantly clear that their bond with each other was equally – if not more – important. It was something that was neither standard friendship nor traditional romance, yet bound their souls irrevocably together for life.

Flint nodded slowly. "I think so," he agreed. That seemed to be enough of an answer for Volkner, who leaned against his shoulder again and closed his eyes with a sigh.

"I just wanted to be sure we're on the same page, here," the blond said. "I'm happy with things the way they are. With this… transcendent friendship. Closeness without fear. I… don't get a lot of that, in my life."

It had never occurred to him before, but in hindsight, of course the gym leader was starved for affection. Flint had always had his little brother, Buck, not to mention the occasional girlfriend or boyfriend. But Volkner had no living family in the area, and with his lack of interest in dating… it made sense. Flint was his only source of human affection. The redhead quietly put an arm around his friend's shoulders.

"This still doesn't help either of us explain what this is to anybody else," Flint pointed out.

"So don't," Volkner said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He opened one blue eye to look at the Elite Four member. "We're friends, we're not dating, you're single. We don't owe anybody anything more than that. It's none of their business." He closed his eye again.

Of course it was that simple to him. Flint let out a huff of laughter. "It is if they're trying to date me, Volk."

The blond made a soft sound of acknowledgement in the back of his throat, thinking it over. Then he said, "If they're threatened by a little affection between lifelong friends – if they don't believe you when you tell them we're not dating… I don't think they deserve you, Flint."

His eyes suddenly snapped open and he looked at the redhead with a worried expression. "You're not… going to let something like that get in the way of our friendship, are you? Let me be clear here, I am perfectly okay with you dating whoever you want, as long as they treat you right, but… I don't wanna lose this just because you find somebody else important to you."

Flint gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. "Never," he assured him. "Like you said, if they can't handle our friendship, they don't deserve me – or you, for that matter."

Volkner chuckled. "Thanks. Love you, man."

"Love you, too, dude."

"Now shut up and unmute the TV; we're gonna miss the best part."