Archive of Our Own

Taerae decides to turn on the TV when he’s bored one day and immediately regrets his decision.

Displayed across the screen is none other than Seok Matthew, known by most as the newest Vermillion City Gym Leader. To Taerae, he’s just an ex.

Well, maybe “just” isn’t the right word to use, considering the fact that his heart clenches painfully even seeing him in the form of pixels on a screen for a total of about 3 milliseconds.

His grip on the poor remote tightens as he thinks back to the last time he saw Matthew, their breakup. It’s already been two months since then.

Matthew hasn’t even come back to Pallet Town once in that entire time. Not that he would tell Taerae if he was anyway, but he would’ve heard through the grapevine one way or another. Matthew’s a pretty big deal now after all, a trainer from a small town who got the opportunity of a lifetime training under a prominent gym leader and then eventually taking over upon his retirement. He’s the closest thing to a celebrity that’s ever come out of their small town.

It makes things rather difficult for Taerae. He can’t scroll through his social media without seeing posts about him and for some reason, all the local stores have started plastering his posters on their walls.

Of course, Matthew had always been loved by the townspeople. He’d go for morning jogs every day with his Plusle and greet every person and Pokémon he met along the way. Taerae used to tease him that it didn’t seem like a particularly productive way to work out if he stopped every block to have a full conversation. To that, Matthew would laugh and argue, “That’s basically what HIIT is anyway.” The point is that the townsfolk have always loved him and so it logically follows that they’d support his new career as a gym leader in any ways that they can.

Most people would agree that it’s incredibly sweet. Taerae is, unfortunately, not one of those people; in fact, he’s terribly bitter.

The thing is that Taerae’s done all of that too; he was the first to do it, actually.

He loved Matthew with all of his heart and he was his biggest cheerleader when he first took on the gym leader title. He would repost all the articles talking about Matthew to his story as soon as they were uploaded, show off clips of his battles to anyone who was willing to watch, and at the end of each day, he was always there to offer Matthew a massage after a long day of matches.

He supported Matthew more than anyone else. And what did he get in return?

He got pushed to the bottom of a to-do list. He got left behind as Matthew flew across the region to attend yet another competition or press release or whatever else he had to do as a gym leader. After trying his best to support Matthew through it all, all Taerae really got was a broken heart.

Their last conversation rings in his head so clearly.

“Let’s just break up,” Taerae had told him bluntly, too tired to even try and sugarcoat it. “You clearly don’t have time for me anymore.”

Matthew had looked stricken and remained silent for a while. Then, without even bothering to meet Taerae’s eyes, he’d mumbled a quiet, “okay.”

And yet the message was received loud and clear, like the cry of a startled Whismur, or maybe even an angry Exploud.

Of course Matthew would be okay with it. It should have been obvious from the way he had neglected him for months, but the confirmation hurt nonetheless—that’s just how little Taerae meant to him in the end.

The realization had Taerae’s blood boiling.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” he spat out. “You’re so obsessed with fighting that you became a gym leader, but you won’t even try to fight for our relationship?”

He watched in sick pleasure as a spark of anger flashed across Matthew’s eyes, replacing the lines of exhaustion that had seemed to be permanently etched onto his face back then. He remembers it vividly because it was the most genuine emotion Matthew had shown him in weeks.

“What do you want me to say?” Matthew had shouted back at him. “You’re right. I don’t have any time. There’s just too much on my plate right now.”

“No. Don’t say it like it’s not your own choice. You made your priorities clear and I’m just not one of them.”

“Taerae, I have responsibilities as a gym leader. So many people put their trust in me and I can’t just betray them like that. I can’t abandon my duties.”

“So you’d rather abandon me instead.”

“It’s not that simple!”

Taerae couldn’t help but scoff. Because it really was that simple. He had tried his best to be understanding, played the role of good, supportive boyfriend for so long, and in turn, Matthew had only ever cared about his role as gym leader.

In reality, this had been long overdue. Matthew hadn’t been his boyfriend for ages by that point; holding onto the title meant nothing when he hadn’t granted Taerae even a fraction of his time, let alone affection, intimacy, reassurance.

“You made your choice a long time ago and it took me way too long to see that, but now I do. And I’ve made mine too.”

Matthew had looked like he wanted to argue. And if Taerae’s being honest, part of him had wanted him to too.

But that’s not what happened in the end.

“Fine, if that’s what you want,” he said.

“It is,” Taerae assured. “I know I won’t regret my choice. I just hope you don’t regret yours.”

He turned to walk away immediately after that, not even bothering to wait for an answer.

“Wait! Come back!” Matthew’s voice yells.

The TV is still on.

Taerae shakes himself out of his daze as his mind slowly returns back to the present. On the screen, Matthew’s latest promotional match against some probably famous trainer he doesn’t recognize continues to play. He calls back his Toxtricity and switches it out for Zebstrika instead.

Without wasting another second, Taerae switches the channel. That’s more than enough fixating on his ex for one day, especially when he’s supposed to already be over him—or at least that’s what he had claimed to all of his friends.

Then, there’s a small cry of protest from beside him and when he turns to see what’s wrong, Minun is already lunging at him—more accurately, at the remote. The small Pokémon grabs it from his fingertips and, despite some struggle from the remote being half its size and lack of opposable thumbs, manages to change the channel back.

In the midst of the battle, the camera pans over to each trainer. The opponent looks smug, probably assuming that Matthew switching out his team is a sign of feeling cornered. Taerae knows this is a naïve and incorrect assumption, but he roots for the guy anyway—the enemy of your enemy is your friend after all.

When the camera then flips to Matthew, he looks unfairly good. The clear fatigue that was a constant presence in the last few weeks of their relationship is nowhere to be seen and he’s shining brilliantly on the battlefield. Clearly, the breakup has treated him well.

Even though Matthew can’t see him right now, probably wouldn’t care enough to look even if he could, Taerae suddenly feels self-conscious of his worn out T-shirt reserved specifically for lounging around the house and his hair sticking up in all directions.

Plusle’s not in battle, so instead it hops around near Matthew’s feet, happily cheering for its teammate out on the field.

Minun visibly perks up at the sight of its sibling, doing a little cheering dance of its own. Sparks fly from its cheeks the way that always happens when Minun gets too excited.

It makes Taerae’s heart ache painfully for the second time today, not for himself, but for his Pokémon.

Plusle and Minun had grown up together, but because of his and Matthew’s selfishness, now they’ve been separated. As hard a time as Taerae has had dealing with Matthew’s absence these past two months, or even longer since Matthew hadn’t really been present leading up to the breakup either, he knows it’s probably been far worse on their Pokémon.

But there’s nothing he can do.

Taerae knows his own worth and that’s why he can never go back to Matthew who decided it wasn’t enough. He’s sorry to Minun, and Plusle too because its trainer’s asshole behavior doesn’t have anything to do with his Pokémon, but he only did what he had to do.

He feels terrible and he knows it’s a pathetic excuse for the real thing, but all he can offer Minun now is this broadcast, a few glimpses of Plusle on a screen.

At least it’s high definition.

Taerae’s out running some errands when Minun jumps straight out of his arms and runs away.

“Minun! Where are you going?” he calls after it, frantically trying to keep up, but the small Pokémon simply runs too fast.

When Minun finally stops, Taerae’s completely out of breath, bent over as he desperately tries to get more air in his lungs.

“What—was that for?” he asks his Pokémon in between huffs.

It’s only then that he notices Minun is not alone. In fact, Minun is currently intertwined with a Plusle, their cheeks stuck together, little sparks flying around everywhere as they dance happily together.

Of course, it’s not just any Plusle. He’d recognize this one anywhere.

“Matthew,” Taerae greets, trying to keep his voice even. It’s difficult, considering how things had ended when they last spoke.

Matthew stares at him like he’s seen a ghost, mouth hanging open.

Taerae wants to say something snarky, but before he gets the chance, he’s suddenly met with Plusle jumping into his arms. It rubs its cheek against his and the electricity tingles his skin.

“Plusle, that tickles,” he laughs. “I missed you too, bud.”

The words are out of his mouth before he can think twice and he makes a point of not looking at Matthew’s reaction. This isn’t about him. Plusle is the one he missed. The only one.

When he gently sets Plusle back down on the ground, he sees that Matthew too is crouched down to pet Minun. His Pokémon honestly looks so much happier now than he’s seen in weeks and, despite the heartfelt sight of front of him as Plusle and Minun find each other once more, all he feels is dread.

“They’re really happy, huh?” Taerae notes, talking more to himself than anyone else.

But Matthew answers nonetheless. “Yeah. Plusle’s been really down lately. I was getting really worried, so this is a relief.”

Taerae sighs. He doesn’t want to be the bigger person here, but he knows Matthew is too much of a coward to step up first.

“Look,” he starts. “I stand by everything I said last time we met and if it were just up to me, I think I’d prefer not to see you again.” He ignores the way Matthew flinches at those words, taking a deep breath as he continues. “But our Pokémon don’t deserve that.”

Matthew nods. “You’re right, they don’t.”

Taerae really doesn’t want to do this. Having run into Matthew once is already wreaking havoc on the emotions that he’s tried so hard to keep under control, the anger and hurt that he pushed down suddenly rising back to the surface. But this isn’t about him or them—this is for Plusle and Minun.

“I have a preposition. Playdates, once a week, just so Plusle and Minun can see each other. We don’t have to talk other than to decide times and locations, but I’m tired of seeing my Pokémon suffering and you may not care about me, but I know you at least care about Plusle.”

He doesn’t really mean to throw in the jab at the end, but it slips out nonetheless.

Matthew is quiet for a moment as he contemplates the offer. “That sounds like a good idea. I’ll text you to set up a time?”

Taerae does his best to hide his surprise at Matthew agreeing so easily. His whole defense for treating Taerae like trash and neglecting their relationship was that he was too busy, after all—it’s still possible that this is a ruse, that he’ll just pretend to check his schedule and claim not to have the time later. But that’s not a problem for now.

“Yeah, my number’s the same,” he answers. “If that’s all then, we should be going.”

“Wait, Taerae!”

He raises an eyebrow. He can’t imagine what Matthew would have to say to him now when he’d had so few words back when it still mattered.

“I—nothing. Sorry. Thank you,” he stutters, awkward and timid and nothing like himself. “It was nice seeing Plusle happy again. Minun too, of course.”

As he walks away, dragging a poor unwilling Minun along with him, he can’t help but wonder if Matthew thought it was nice seeing him too.

Taerae’s first to arrive at the park and part of him is still convinced that Matthew won’t even show up. He’s surprised they even made it this far.

That day they had met by chance, it had only taken a few hours for Matthew to text him saying he could free up a few hours the upcoming Sunday.

For some reason, even something as minor as that had gotten on Taerae’s nerves—he just had to word it like that and emphasize that he was rearranging his very busy schedule for this, as if Taerae should thank him for going through all that trouble.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Matthew’s voice calls from afar and Taerae looks up to see him jogging over.

He’s not as quick as Plusle who has already reached the bench he and Minun have claimed, the two sibling Pokémon already chatting up a storm.

A quick glance at his phone tells him Matthew is only late by two minutes, but he doesn’t say anything. Maybe he’s being rude, but Taerae doesn’t think he owes his shitty ex stupid pleasantries.

“I almost expected you not to come.”

“What? I’d never just stand you up like that.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Taerae argues.

That had been a date rescheduled three times already due to a string of promotional events that Matthew couldn’t skip and Taerae had waited an hour at a café before he finally called him to apologize saying that a battle had run long and he wouldn’t be able to make it. Matthew apologized profusely and Taerae told him, “It’s okay. I get that it comes with being a gym leader. It happens.”

Unfortunately, it had happened again and again and eventually, it became too much for Taerae to excuse anymore.

“Unless it’s just me you can’t make time for,” Taerae spits out. “You didn’t seem to have any issues fitting my Minun into your schedule even though you could never do it for me.”

It’s a low blow and he knows it, but Taerae thinks it’s deserved. It’s not like it’s untrue either—the facts are that it took Matthew a matter of hours to find time for a playdate with Minun even when he claimed for weeks that he didn’t have any time to take Taerae on a date.

Taerae expects Matthew to fight back, to give the same excuses that he would always use before. It was always “I can’t just turn down a challenger” even when it meant turning down Taerae instead. It was “I’m too tired from the press release to go out right now” as if Taerae hadn’t been up at 6AM with him to keep him company the whole time. It was “Can’t we just do this another time?” when the “another time” never actually came.

Taerae’s heard them all a hundred times before, so he can easily predict what’s coming next.

Except it doesn’t.

Matthew doesn’t try to defend himself at all; he says nothing and lowers his head towards the ground silently. He deflates like a Driftblim that’s just had the air Shadow Punched right out of it—super effective.

Taerae should feel vindicated because Matthew’s just proven him right. Instead, he feels terrible. He doesn’t understand why he feels bad because he hasn’t even said anything wrong, but something about Matthew’s stricken expression makes guilt start to eat away at him.

Guilt isn’t the only thing attacking him though. Suddenly, Minun has climbed up his arm to tug at his hair painfully while Plusle delivers little, slightly-charged jabs to his leg.

“Ow, quit it!” he scolds, trying to at least pry Minun off of him, but the Pokémon is stubborn in its pursuit.

Matthew, looking a little alarmed at the situation, does rush to pick up Plusle, holding it in his arms to keep it from doing any further damage. To be honest though, Plusle’s assault was little more than a minor prickle; Minun’s the one doing the real damage.

Perhaps he should feel a little betrayed at his own partner Pokémon turning on him, in defense of his shitty ex of all people, but he can’t really bring himself to get upset. Even Taerae can admit that maybe he went a little too far this time.

Minun finally relents, but not without shooting him another glare to make it clear that it thinks he’s an asshole, Plusle also pouting indignantly at him from where it sits in its trainer’s arms. The trainer in question stands there, incredibly awkward, not knowing what to do.

Taerae sighs, scooching over on the bench to make more room, a wordless offer for Matthew to sit. That’s as much of an olive branch as he’s willing to offer though and Matthew seems to have gotten the message that he’s not really in the mood to talk, so that’s all they really do, sit in silence while watching their Pokémon run around the field.

Though Plusle seems to be full of energy as it plays with Minun, the rest of Matthew’s team seem to just be lounging around—Jolteon is taking a nap under the shade of a nearby tree and even Zebstrika who is usually aggressively active is lazing nearby as well.

It makes sense because Plusle, despite being attached to Matthew at the hip, doesn’t often go out into battle. Still, to see all his other Pokémon, ones that Taerae had inevitably grown fond of over the years, in this state only further justifies his anger. Pushing Taerae aside for the sake of his career was one thing, but to overwork his Pokémon is another.

If these playdates mean that Matthew’s Pokémon will finally get a break from their ruthless workaholic of a trainer, then Taerae is going to make sure that they continue.

Even though he hates the fact that he’ll have to see Matthew regularly, he can put up with it for the sake of the Pokémon.

He just hopes that every time won’t be quite as awkward as this one.

Taerae’s hope is somewhat fulfilled. His initial exchange with Matthew today had been equally as uncomfortable as the first, but the park is far less crowded today, so they were able to find separate benches, quite a distance away from each other.

Matthew doesn’t seem to want to strike up a conversation with him after the way he had lashed out last time and Taerae has absolutely no problems with that. He doesn’t want to hear what Matthew has to say anyway.

If Taerae turns his head ever so slightly to the right, he can sort of see Matthew in his peripheral vision, which is why he’s making a point of not looking in that direction, but when Plusle and Minun run there, his eyes follow instinctively.

Matthew looks happy, laughing brightly at something that Plusle and Minun are doing. From this distance, the sound has no chance of reaching him, but Taerae can hear it ring in his ears nonetheless—it’s kind of engrained into his memory whether he likes it or not. (And for the record, he does not.)

It used to be contagious, a sign that he too would burst out laughing only a few moments later. Now, it brings a deep scowl to his face as bitter resentment tugs at his heart.

He’d seen it on television and on his social media, but seeing it in person is different. Here there’s no pretense of smiling for the camera or fancy editing to paint a layer of glamor over it all—it’s proof that Matthew shines brightly even in the absence of those expensive studio lights.

And it hurts.

Because while Taerae’s been here in Pallet Town, slowly withering away after losing his sunshine, Matthew has just been parading around, offering his light to the rest of the world instead.

And it’s not fair.

Because Taerae already had his fair share of suffering when he was neglected time and time again and now it’s supposed to be Matthew’s turn. He ended things for his own sake, yes, but it was also out of a petty attempt to show Matthew what he’d be missing, so that he’d feel the pain of Taerae’s absence in the same way that Taerae had already felt his.

Maybe it was playing dirty, to try and use the threat of a breakup as a weapon. Maybe Taerae’s a terrible person for wanting to inflict pain on Matthew at all.

But in the end, it doesn’t even matter because despite his initial intentions, the outcome was nothing like what he had hoped.

As he gazes across the park, catching yet another glimpse of Matthew’s blinding smile, it’s clear as day that the breakup hadn’t affected him at all.

It feels like a cruel joke. The weapon that he had specifically crafted to bring Matthew’s downfall hadn’t even left with him a single scratch—instead, Taerae is the one with the gaping wound as the agonizing truth rips through him like a Scyther’s blades.

The harsh reality is that Matthew had never valued him that highly in the first place.

The weather decided to be uncooperative this week which means they’ve resorted to their backup plan of a cozy café with a small Pokémon playpen. Plusle and Minun don’t seem to mind though as they happily chase each other around the enclosure, mingling with the many other Pokémon there too.

It seems they weren’t the only ones with this idea though, the café packed with tons of trainers. They only barely manage to secure a small table with two seats.

This does mean, however, that they have to sit together.

Admittedly, Taerae does weigh the pros and cons of staying here versus choosing to stand for an hour, but he ultimately decides it’s not worth the strain on his feet. He’s an adult; he can be civil with his ex for sixty minutes.

But the silence that stretches between them does feel uncomfortable and fundamentally wrong. In all the time that he’s known Matthew, silence has been a rarity—it’s not something he’s really experienced much of.

Matthew had always been the one to reach out first after they fought and Taerae had come to rely on him always starting the conversations, so he’s at a loss for what to do. If they’re going to keep doing these playdates, he’d really like for it not to be this unbearably awkward each time, but Taerae doesn’t know how to get to that point.

In the end, what breaks the silence is not one of them speaking, but rather the loud growl of Matthew’s stomach.

He burns bright red in embarrassment as his hands move to cover his stomach, as if that could hide the sound of the ongoing grumble. “Sorry! Just ignore that.”

Taerae feels just the slightest bit of concern prickling at him, only because he knows Matthew has a habit of skipping meals when he gets busy.

“When’s the last time you ate?” he asks. It’s a little past 3PM now, so he suspects Matthew probably forgot to eat lunch or at most, grabbed a granola bar on his way out of the house and called it a day.

Matthew doesn’t answer immediately, just looks down a little sheepishly. “Um, last night?”

Taerae can’t help but scoff because how is it worse than he thought?

“Matthew, what the fuck?”

“It wasn’t on purpose! I didn’t realize I ran out of protein shakes and that’s usually my breakfast and then I had to run to a gym leader meeting during what would’ve been my lunch break, so I had to skip that too. But my Pokémon had time to eat, obviously, I left them while I was in the meeting, so it’s fine!” he reassures, as if that makes it any better.

Taerae doesn’t even grant that with a response, just immediately gets up from his seat, leaving a flustered Matthew in his wake.

He angrily marches over to the register, wondering why on Earth Matthew didn’t just order a sandwich along with his coffee earlier because now Taerae is the one who has to do it for him.

As he waits in line, he can’t help but notice that the snickerdoodles on display look especially good.

“Those are my favorite,” the girl behind the counter says as she notices him eyeing them. “This batch is fresh out of the oven too.”

Before he can think twice about it, he tells her to add it to the order. It’s only because she looked so excited when recommending them and Taerae didn’t want to disappoint her by not getting one, definitely not because he remembers that they’re one of Matthew’s favorite cookies.

When he eventually returns to the table with a tray stacked full of the sandwich, cookie, and a few Poffins that the girl had thrown in on the house for Plusle and Minun, he pushes it towards Matthew without saying anything.

Matthew just stares back at him in confusion.

“You’re starving. So eat,” Taerae says.

“Oh. It’s for me?” Matthew asks, surprised, as if it wasn’t blatantly obvious who the food was meant for.

Taerae rolls his eyes. “Who else would it be for, idiot? Unlike you, I’m not a degenerate and I eat proper meals.”

Matthew doesn’t seem bothered by the slight insult thrown in at the end, but he still hesitates to actually eat for some stupid reason.

“Um, thank you. But you really didn’t have to! I could’ve just waited till dinner, I’m used to skipping meals sometimes and—”

“Matthew,” Taerae warns. “Just shut up and eat.”

It only takes one look at Taerae’s eyes to know he’s serious. Without any further argument, Matthew takes a large bite of his sandwich.

Taerae looks away to let him eat in peace and also because it’s kind of gross the way he’s now shoveling the food into his mouth. And it’s definitely not cute the way his cheeks puff out a little, slightly reminiscent of a Patrat or a Skwovet.

Plusle and Minun come over to enjoy their Poffins as well, their cheeks similarly stuffed full.

It’s not cute at all.

Matthew had already told him last time that he probably wouldn’t be able to fit in a playdate this week. Apparently, he had to fly to Hoenn for some worldwide gym leader convention.

Considering how often they’ve been seeing each other lately, it shouldn’t be too big of a deal, but Minun doesn’t seem to agree.

The small Pokémon has obviously been in a terrible mood all week, making it known by constantly giving Taerae little shocks of static electricity.

“Minun, cut it out,” he scolds. He doesn’t get why it’s making such a fuss out of things when it’s really only been a little over a week since the last playdate.

Minun pouts, angrily storms around the apartment, effectively charging every conductive surface in the entire place—Taerae needs to remember to be careful when reaching for any doorknobs later.

With a sigh, he ends up giving in, knowing there’s one thing left to try to appease his very much spoiled Pokémon.

According to some online sources, the gym leaders of the world decided that it’d be a waste not to at least have some promotional matches while they all happened to be gathered anyway and Matthew is one of the main events on the lineup due to his newer status as a gym leader. He’s up against another recently appointed gym leader from the Unova region and it’s being advertised as an exciting battle of the rookies.

Taerae only knows this because after so long of liking and reposting every possible piece of media showcasing Matthew back when they were still together, his algorithm never really unlearned that it should flood his feed with any and all content mentioning him. He could’ve reset his accounts, sure, but everything else was already so perfectly curated for his interests that he didn’t want to undo all that work either.

The point is, against his will, Taerae’s phone inevitably lets him know what Matthew is up to at all times so he knows that the livestream of the battle should start right about now.

When the TV switches on he calls Minun over and it jumps up and down excitedly at the first glimpse of Matthew in a large crowd of trainers.

While Taerae’s never had much interest in competitive battling, he’s watched enough of Matthew’s matches over the years to become knowledgeable enough. Matthew’s opponent is a grass type trainer, so he’s at a bit of a disadvantage, his electric moves not doing much damage. Still, somehow he manages to whittle away at his opponent’s stamina and eventually Ampharos delivers a particularly strong Thunder Punch as the finishing blow.

It was a well-fought battle. If things weren’t still so tense between them, he might even consider congratulating him on it. But for obvious reasons, Taerae can’t do that.

He can’t risk people knowing he watched the match at all because they might incorrectly assume that he missed Matthew, or something stupid like that, and he’s not trying to be misunderstood. His friends had questioned him with the same flawed logic when he mentioned the playdates to them and even though he tried to explain that it was clearly Plusle and Minun who missed each other and they were doing this solely for the sake of their Pokémon, Ricky’s unimpressed look told Taerae that he wasn’t quite convinced.

It was established a long time ago that Matthew didn’t miss Taerae at all and Taerae isn’t going to waste his time pathetically yearning for someone who cares so little about him—he knows he deserves better than that.

This is what he reminds himself of even as he meets Matthew at the park for their next scheduled playdate.

But honestly, all of that is completely forgotten when he comes face to face with Matthew because the only thing he really notices is that, quite frankly, Matthew looks terrible today. It’s genuinely a bit concerning, the deep bags under his eyes and the way his body slouches over as if struggling to carry its own weight.

“You look like shit,” he says bluntly. Because it’s true.

Matthew offers him a tired smile. “Wow, thanks Taerae. It’s nice to see you too.”

“I’m serious. Did you have a run-in with an angry Primeape or something?”

“I’m just a bit tired.”

“A bit,” Taerae repeats incredulously, because it’s so obviously more than just “a bit.”

“The flight back from Hoenn was a little delayed, so I got back in the morning. Sorry, I didn’t really have time to freshen up before coming here.”

It’s currently only 11AM and they scheduled to meet earlier in the day today specifically because Matthew said he has to attend yet another event later, a local one for the city this time, despite just having gotten back from his trip.

“Why are you even here? You should be in bed or something.”

“I wouldn’t bail on you. I promised you I’d be here, that I’d be better,” Matthew says. The sincerity catches Taerae off guard and the mention of the promise nearly knocks him over entirely. It’s a promise from when they were still together, though it had been broken time and time again. Broken, but apparently not forgotten, Taerae is now realizing.

“You could’ve explained the situation. I wouldn’t have been unreasonable about it,” he counters, though he doesn’t even fully believe his own words.

He’s trained himself to be petty and bitter because it was the easiest way to mask the hurt and longing. If Matthew had tried to cancel, he definitely would’ve taken it poorly and lashed out again.

Plusle and Minun look up at them with worried eyes, as if keeping them under strict supervision to make sure they don’t get into another fight. Taerae feels a little offended at that. Even he isn’t so terrible that he’d kick someone when they’re already down—and Matthew right now is most definitely down for the count.

He crouches down and scratches Plusle behind the ear the way he knows it loves and sends his own Minun a meaningful look as well. The two Pokémon seem to understand and run off to play, but don’t stray too far.

Taerae then turns back to Matthew with a sigh. “Come on, let’s get you a seat before you collapse.”

Matthew obediently follows as Taerae picks out a nice shaded area under a tree for them to stay at. He figures this might be better because the past few weeks have taught him that the hard wooden benches are not very forgiving.

Taerae is still sort of grappling with the fact that both Matthew and their Pokémon apparently think very lowly of him now and as he looks back on his behavior recently, he can’t help but agree.

Maybe Matthew was the one to first let their relationship start to slip out of his hands, but Taerae was the one who ultimately hacked up what was left of it in a messy ordeal that pushed it far past the point of no return. Or at least, that’s what he thought before.

The anger that he had used as fuel to keep himself going after the breakup seems to have completely dissipated. When he glances at Matthew sitting next to him now, there’s no more resentment to be found.

“How was the convention?” Taerae asks, effectively marking the first attempt at a real conversation since the start of this arrangement.

Matthew’s head shoots up suddenly, probably having almost fallen asleep, and Taerae wonders if he should’ve just kept quiet.

Still, despite being caught off guard, Matthew seems kind of happy—if Taerae can still read him correctly, that is.

“It was cool meeting all the other gym leaders. Like, I’ve met the other Kanto ones by now, but talking to people from other regions was fun. Also really tiring though, which the time difference didn’t help either.”

“You looked fine during the match though. The one against that grass-type gym leader.”

Matthew looks over at him in surprise. “You were watching?”

Taerae suddenly chokes, only now realizing his mistake. He quickly tries to correct it. “Just by coincidence. It happened to be on and Minun wouldn’t let me change the channel.”

Matthew thankfully doesn’t call him out for the blatant lie, just quietly smiles to himself.

“Right, well, the makeup people were really good at their job. It’s honestly really impressive, although it took twice as long to get me ready compared to the others because they were struggling to fully hide my dark circles.”

He frowns at that, realizing that all the times he thought Matthew was doing well when he happened to see him on screen might’ve just been a façade after all. Maybe Matthew has been struggling more than he thought.

As the conversation dies out and no one makes a move to revive it, silence falls over them once more, only occasionally interrupted by a yawn and the subsequent rustle of Matthew seemingly trying to shake himself awake.

It’s already kind of worrying, but it only gets worse because Matthew starts hitting himself to stay awake, so forcefully that he might as well call out Pawmot to use Wake-Up Slap on him.

Taerae reaches out to grab his arm and stop him. “Matthew, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” And he means more than just these pathetic attempts to stay awake.

“What do you mean? I’m fine!”

Taerae just sighs. Clearly, he has to take matters into his own hands. Quite literally, he grabs Matthew by the shoulders and somehow manages to manhandle him so that his head is resting in Taerae’s lap—he goes down with a loud yelp.

Matthew stares back up at him with wide eyes and Taerae meets them with a firm gaze. “Sleep,” he says.

Though Matthew looks a bit conflicted at first, confusion and hesitation flickering through his eyes, he’s ultimately too tired to argue. As soon as his eyelids fall closed, he’s out like a light.

It’s a peculiar scene—Taerae leaning back against a tree as his ex-boyfriend sleeps peacefully in his lap. A few months ago, he never would’ve predicted this to be possible. Even now, he can’t really predict where this will lead them either.

As Taerae absentmindedly runs his fingers through Matthew’s hair, he lets his mind wander.

Though it’s true that a lot of his resentment towards Matthew has faded, he can’t say the same about the hurt—there’s still plenty of wounds that are in need of healing. But it’s also undeniable that he still cares for Matthew, a lot more than he wanted to admit before.

To be honest, he has no clue what that means for them going forward, but he does know that if they are to move forward at all, there’s definitely some things that need to change.

Later that night, Taerae thinks long and hard about the text message that he has drafted up before he finally decides to hit send.

hey. listen. your work can end our relationship, but

it shouldn’t end you. your pokemon need you, asshole.

take care of yourself for their sake at the very least

It takes a while for Matthew to respond. But then:

ur right

also thank u for today

i'll do my best

For a while, Taerae became so jaded that he wouldn’t have believed for a second those words to be true. Now, though he won’t know until much later if this will really be any different, he’d really like to trust that they are.

When Taerae wakes up to a text message from Matthew, he assumes it’ll be something about scheduling this week’s playdate.

He sleepily unlocks his phone to reveal the attached image and is surprised to find that it’s not actually a screenshot of Matthew’s calendar, but rather a slightly blurry photo of a stack of pancakes with some berries on the side, Plusle caught red-handed in the middle of stealing an oran berry from the plate.

no more skipping breakfast!!

Taerae can’t help but smile fondly. He thinks back to the days when he’d wake up to the smell of those very same pancakes.

glad you didn’t burn them this time

you need to let that go

it was ONE time

It was definitely more than just one time, but Taerae knows from experience that this particular battle will never come to an end. Both of them are too stubborn to admit defeat.

When the next playdate rolls around, Matthew is sure to tell Taerae not to worry because he ate beforehand. He also shows Taerae a new app he downloaded call Snorlax Sleep which is meant to be some sort of tracker that provides rewards for good sleeping habits. “And I have to feed Snorlax three times a day and go to bed on time or else all the Pokémon on my team are miserable all day,” he explains with a pout.

Soon after that, each week Matthew is also sending him screenshots of his weekly sleep summaries.

i got a B this week!!

i slept a lot but it says the sleep midpoint is inconsistent :c

u kno u don’t have to send me these like report cards

also why are u bragging about a b for bare minimum

at least come back with an A next time

The following week, the screenshot shows a perfect three stars on both sleep duration and midpoint.

call me seviper bc i'm s grade 🐍😎

no one is calling you that

but good job ig

Even on the weeks when Matthew is too busy to meet for the playdates, he doesn’t fail to send over updates of his meals and his Snorlax Sleep reports and the occasional selfie with his team to show that he’s giving them adequate breaks. (One in particular with Matthew clad in industrial rubber gloves and a very disgruntled Toxtricity sitting in a kiddie pool behind him captioned “bath time!!” makes Taerae break out into a fit of laughter.)

Honestly, he doesn’t even need the proof anymore because Matthew’s clearly been doing a great job of upholding his promise. It’s not like he asked Matthew to send them in the first place because Matthew doesn’t actually owe him anything, not anymore at least.

Still, Taerae can’t bring himself to tell him to stop—the little messages here and there provide him with small bursts of happiness in his otherwise boring life.

In some ways, it is a double-edged sword though. He’s watching as Matthew picks himself back up, climbing to new heights every day, while he’s in the same exact place he’s been his whole life.

Take right now, for example—Matthew is off in Johto for yet another battle competition while Taerae is just sitting on his couch, watching the broadcast on TV.

Matthew wins, but only by a small margin. His Zebstrika had managed to knock out the opponent with one last Wild Charge, but it was an incredibly risky move considering Zebstrika was barely able to withstand the recoil in its already fatigued state.

Taerae chooses to wait a few hours before texting Matthew, not wanting to make it obvious that he had been watching the livestream, that he has nothing better to do than pathetically watch his ex-boyfriend on TV, but later that night he does tell him his thoughts on the battle.

i saw the rerun of your battle

wild charge was a dumb move

you almost knocked out your own pokemon

also jolteon would’ve been a better choice for that terrain

would’ve been able to hide behind rocks and use its speed more effectively

He doesn’t know if Matthew will even want his unsolicited opinions on his battle strategy, especially considering Taerae doesn’t even do competitive battle at all, but he thinks it’s solid advice.

Luckily, Matthew seems to think the same.

i know i regretted it so much

i had to rush zebstrika to the pokemon center after :c

it's okay now though!! and i will not be making that mistake again

but that’s a really good point

i always forget about terrain

thanks taerae!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Personally, Taerae thinks the number of exclamation points there is a little excessive, but it brings a smile to his face nonetheless.

my next match is tomorrow at 6 if u have time to watch

only if u want to obviously

but i’d really appreciate ur critiques

i’ll see if i have time

(The truth is it was already in his calendar. He’d carved out time in his day specifically to watch it.)

Matthew wins the next battle too, but it’s mostly a matter of luck. He uses the same patterns he always does when he battles.

u won bc u got lucky with a lazy opponent

your moves were too predictable

u forget ur basically a celebrity and people watch ur old battles to study

if the other guy had done any research on u at all he would’ve seen that all coming

For the remaining two days of the tournament, Taerae continues to send Matthew his thoughts after every battle and Matthew ends up advancing to the finals with ease. In the end, he finishes as the runner-up, but the opponent he loses to is a highly acclaimed trainer who people online think has a shot of challenging the Johto Champion, so the fact that Matthew had put up such a good fight as a fairly newer face was an impressive feat already.

From that point forward, Matthew gets a lot busier—his ever increasing fame getting him booked for more events alongside running the gym as usual. If that wasn’t already enough, rumors start to travel about his long win streak that no one can seem to break and eager challengers start flocking to the gym each day. Amongst all the chaos, the weekly playdates become bi-monthly playdates.

Taerae expected Minun to make more of a fuss about it, but the small Pokémon is surprisingly understanding. When he tells Matthew this, he confirms that the same is true for Plusle. It’s a little strange, but he’s not complaining—not having a sulky Minun to deal with takes one worry off his plate at least.

Then again, without Minun making a big deal out of things, Taerae has to actually confront the fact that none of this has ever just been about the Pokémon. Like this, he actually has to admit that he’s the one who missed Matthew most of all.

Despite Matthew’s busier schedule, he makes sure to fit in all his meals and get enough sleep, never forgetting to update Taerae along the way. On top of that, every one of Taerae’s battle critiques is met with an enthusiastic round of thanks and promises that he’ll treat Taerae to something nice as repayment when he finds the time.

They could be empty promises, sure, but Taerae wants to believe that they aren’t. Even if he can’t fully trust him yet, he desperately longs for them to be true.

It’s a bit ridiculous, honestly, the way he still clings to his ex like this—his ex who is off doing far bigger and more important things.

On a day when he’s feeling particularly lonely, he starts to wonder if breaking up with Matthew was ever the right thing to do at all. Maybe Matthew’s list of priorities was perfectly in order—who was Taerae, just a nobody from a small town, to expect to be placed at the top?

And of course, Minun chooses this day of all days to go back to being difficult, somehow stealing Taerae’s phone from his grasp and accidentally calling Matthew before dropping it right back into his hands, not before the call connects though.

“Taerae? What’s up?” Matthew asks, reasonably confused. Even with the increased texting, things are far from normal between them, so a phone call out of nowhere is definitely a cause for concern.

“Sorry, it’s nothing. Minun was messing around with my phone. I’ll let you get back to what you were doing.”

“Wait! Before you go, I was about to text you anyway. Are you free Thursday night at 9 for a playdate? I’m sorry, I know it’s late but it’s been a while so I wanted to squeeze it in sooner if possible.”

“Let me check my calendar,” Taerae lies, as if he would have anything else planned. “I should be free, but are you sure? Don’t start to overwork yourself again. I’m sure Minun will be able to handle it.” (Though he doesn’t know if the same can be said about himself.)

“I’ll be fine! I know my Snorlax Sleep grade did drop back down to an B last week—” Taerae knows this too because Matthew sent him the screenshot as per usual. “—but that's honestly not a bad score. I promise me and my Pokémon are getting plenty of rest. And Plusle’s starting to get antsy, so I think it’s best not to put it off any longer.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

“It’s a plan!”

“See you Thursday,” Taerae says, trying to keep his voice even and not show just how excited he is.

“Can’t wait!” Matthew answers cheerfully. Taerae wonders if he’s saying it on Plusle’s behalf or if he’s also at least a little bit excited. He really hopes it’s the latter.

When he puts the phone down, Minun jumps straight into his lap, staring up at him.

Taerae rolls his eyes, but chuckles all the same. “You happy now?”

And Taerae is no Pokémon Connoisseur or an expert on Pokémon emotions in any way, but he’s fairly certain his Minun is smirking at him.

It feels weird standing in front of Matthew’s apartment. He hasn’t been here since before the breakup.

They’re meeting later than usual today and most of their potential playdate locations aren’t really viable right now.

He still remembers the passcode for the door, so he could technically let himself in, but it doesn’t feel right to do that. That was information entrusted to him while they were still dating and now that they’re not—he doesn’t even know what they are at this point—Taerae is careful not to overstep any boundaries.

Once he rings the doorbell, he immediately hears the footsteps running towards the door and he bites the inside of his lip to hide the smile that threatens to form when he imagines the sight on the other side of the wall, Matthew scurrying over to the door in a hurry.

“Hey, come on in,” he says as the door opens to reveal Matthew with a towel draped around his neck and wet hair dripping onto the ground.

Taerae is suddenly grateful for the chilly autumn air because without it, he fears Matthew wouldn’t even have bothered to put on a shirt before answering the door. Technically, it wouldn’t be a new sight for him, but Taerae knows from experience that no matter how many times he sees it, a shirtless Matthew is always a dangerous sight to behold. Even now, he has to desperately shoo those thoughts away.

That’s not the point though. There are far more pressing matters at hand.

“Did you even look to make sure who was at the door? What if I was someone else?”

“But I knew you were coming. Who else would be here at this hour?”

“I don’t know, some stalker, maybe. You’re basically a celebrity—you should have more safety awareness.”

“You’re exaggerating. It’s not like I have fans or anything.”

Taerae’s fairly certain there’s at least three fanclubs for him based in Vermillion City alone, not to mention the small yet extra feral army of fans from Pallet Town who claim to be his original supporters, but he’d rather not stand in the hallway and argue this all night so he holds his tongue.

Minun seems to be one step ahead of him though, jumping from Taerae’s arms straight into Matthew’s, immediately rubbing against his cheek.

“Okay, okay, let’s get you to Plusle,” he chuckles. “I’m sure you two have missed each other.”

Taerae follows Matthew into the apartment and, aside from the chatter of their Pokémon, silence falls over them.

In Taerae’s defense, there’s a lot to take in. In the months since he’s last been here, things have definitely changed, but it also surprises him just how much of it is the same.

There’s a few new trophies on the shelf and he specifically recognizes the second place prize from that recent Johto Tournament along with souvenirs from all the regions Matthew’s been traveling to as of late—a miniature replica of the Bell Tower in Ecruteak City, a snow globe showcasing what appears to be a landscape of the mountains of Sinnoh, and a sundial designed to look like the one in the Kalos region. All these faraway places that Taerae has never been to only serve to remind him of the distance that has grown between him and Matthew. It’s becoming more and more clear that he’ll never be able to catch up, that Matthew has long since left him in the dust.

And yet, standing proudly next to them is the little glass bottle that houses a model of the S.S. Anne—they’d bought it together when they went on a one-week cruise as an anniversary trip. It feels oddly reassuring that the ship remains afloat atop the painted waves even when their relationship itself has sunk.

Then, Plusle and Minun come barreling towards him with a large Quaxly plushie that towers over both of them in size. Once again, his heart tugs at the memories it brings, at the fact that Matthew kept this too.

This one was a prize at a local carnival. Matthew was the one to first give into the taunts of the man running the shooting game booth, but after numerous failed attempts to win anything, started complaining that it must be rigged. Taerae had joked that he would avenge him and with just one try, managed to hit enough targets to earn them the top tier prize.

Taerae remembers finding it strange how Matthew had excitedly pointed to the large Quaxly over the adorable reversible Morpeko that could be flipped into either Full Belly or Hangry mode—where was his pride as an electric-type trainer?

But then Matthew had turned to him, the Quaxly held tightly in his arms and said “It reminds me of you! I can hug it when I miss you.”

Taerae finds himself blushing even at just the memory.

“I can’t believe you still have this,” Taerae says. He doesn’t really mean to say it aloud, but it slips out nonetheless.

Suddenly, the tips of Matthew’s ears turn pink as he starts spluttering. “Right, um—Plusle’s really attached to it! I just couldn’t bear to get rid of it. For Plusle’s sake, of course.”

For the first time since Taerae arrived, he’s finally noticed that Matthew seems a little on edge today. Even before the Quaxly, he’s been fidgeting a lot, tiptoeing around even though they’re in his own home—he’s clearly nervous about something, though Taerae has no idea what.

“Calm down,” he says gently. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” It’s the most he can offer without completely giving away how happy he actually is to see that there’s still traces of him around the apartment, that Matthew hasn’t completely erased and forgotten his presence already.

“O-oh. That’s good then. I’m glad.” The reply comes stunted and awkward, even more so than usual.

Taerae can’t help but be concerned. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Matthew laughs nervously. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Taerae scoffs because that’s the most unconvincing counter-argument anyone could give.

“Matthew, even if—if things are different now, it doesn’t change the fact that I know you. I can tell when something’s off with you.”

At this, Matthew sighs, shoulders slumping down from where he’s sitting on the couch next to him.

“Right, sorry. I should probably just come out and say it, huh?” He takes a deep breath and then turns to face Taerae. “So there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Taerae’s pretty sure his heart is stopped, all of time might even be frozen—maybe Dialga has decided to pay the Kanto region a visit. Not a single muscle moves as he awaits whatever will leave Matthew’s mouth next because he doesn’t have the first clue as to what it could be.

“Have you heard about the big gala coming up?”

Of course he has. He’d have to be living under a rock not to know about the huge gala that happens every year, only the most elite of trainers ever being invited. It’s always a huge spectacle with all the reporters going crazy over everything from the red carpet outfits to who’s bringing a plus one. He doesn’t see how it could possibly be relevant to him though.

“Well, yeah, but why?”

“I got invited this year,” Matthew says, as if that much weren’t already obvious. Ever since he took over the Vermillion City Gym, he’s been consistently on the rise.

Taerae nods, wishing Matthew would hurry up and get to the point already.

“So the thing is, um, they told me—well, not ‘they,’ because I don’t actually know who it is that sends the invitations and it’s not like I was personally invited, it was just a standard letter in the mail, although I will say the envelope was super fancy, like it wasn’t normal paper and—”

“Matthew,” Taerae warns because he can’t take much more of this suspense. “Please get to the point.”

“Right. Sorry. I just wanted to ask if—only if you want to, of course—but I was wondering if you’d like to be my plus one?”

Taerae is too shocked to say anything. He can’t even think about answering the question because the question itself doesn’t make any sense.

Matthew seems to take his silence as a cue to keep talking. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by asking and it’s fine if you don’t want to. I get it. I know it must be weird for me to ask this when we’re, well—not together anymore.”

“I’m not—I’m just confused. Matthew, I’m sure you have better people to take than just your ex.”

“Taerae, you’re not just my ex,” he says, his gaze burning through Taerae with its sincerity. “Actually, I want nothing more than to not be exes anymore.”

“W-what are you trying to say?” he asks, not because he doesn’t understand, but because he needs to hear it again to be sure. Because he can’t believe his ears, he doesn’t trust that it’s not his own fantasies speaking.

Matthew gently takes his hand into his, gripping loosely so that Taerae can pull away if he wants to. He doesn’t.

“Taerae, I still love you. I never stopped.”

They’re the words he’s secretly been longing to hear all this time and part of him wants to admit that he feels the same, that even when he’d said terrible things in an attempt to hurt him, he’d still loved him. In a sick and twisted way, he’d said them precisely because of it—he was only ever trying to return the hurt that he himself felt, a hurt that was directly proportional to how much he loved him.

But he also logically knows that things aren’t that simple. The fact that the love never left doesn’t change the fact that so many other things came—doubt and insecurity on top of responsibilities and expectations. There’s still questions that love can’t answer, problems that it can’t fix.

“You didn’t try to stop me then. You didn’t argue at all,” Taerae points out. There’s no malice behind his words—it’s not an accusation, but rather a statement of facts.

“I didn’t think I had a place to. Everything you said was right. I was terrible to you and you deserved so, so much better.” Matthew’s grip on his hand tightens as he looks up to meet his eyes. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking for a chance to make it up to you. If you don’t want to get back together, then that’s okay too. Of course, I’d respect your decision on that either way. I—I’d understand.”

The way his voice cracks makes Taerae think it might not actually be okay, but he lets Matthew continue regardless.

“—But even then, please come to the gala. Let me give you this one night of extravagance, so you can at least exploit me for some of my cool gym leader perks, so that I can at least do something special for you even though it’s way overdue.”

Taerae doesn’t doubt Matthew’s sincerity in the slightest—he can feel his heart in his words—but trust is a tricky thing, notoriously hard to rebuild once broken. His head and his heart are at war with each other as memories of love battle memories of pain for a spot at the top.

And then he looks up, he sees the way Matthew is looking at him—steeling himself for rejection even as little tendrils of hope sneak through—and something in Taerae shifts.

Maybe he can’t fully trust Matthew just yet, but he wants to be able to again.

Taerae smiles, wide and genuine, the way that’s become so rare since the day they broke up.

“Cool gym leader perks, huh?”

Matthew falters only for a moment and then nods his head vigorously. “Yeah! Like VIP treatment for sure and really good food and drinks, served on those fancy platters that they hold with one hand—like how do they even balance it?”

It makes Taerae laugh and suddenly he finds himself agreeing before more worries have time to creep in.

“Okay, I’ll go.”

Matthew takes hold of both of his hands and makes sure that Taerae is looking straight at him, so that he can’t miss the genuine happiness overflowing from his face.

“Thank you. I promise you won’t regret it.”

(In the corner of the room, Plusle and Minun exchange high-fives.)

Taerae’s just an average guy from Pallet Town, the farthest he’s ever traveled is a few towns over. He’s never even dreamed of attending something as extravagant as this gala.

He’d realized soon after accepting Matthew’s invitation that he didn’t even own a suit, at least not one that was fit for this occasion, which he quickly admitted to Matthew while averting his eyes in shame. To his credit, Matthew didn’t make a big deal of it, just took out his phone to check his schedule as he asked “When are you free to get fitted for one?”

In the end, Matthew was too busy to personally take him and had instead sent Taerae a location, citing the tailor as a trusted friend, and told him not to worry about the price because it was already taken care of. Not that it mattered anyway, because none of the suits Taerae was given to try on even had price tags to begin with and he was too afraid to ask. He’d truly never felt more out of his element.

The suit fitting itself was a whole other story, an experience that had him feeling like something half between a human test subject being probed by an alien and a small child’s dress-up doll. It’s not really something he ever wants to experience again, but he must admit that when he looks at himself in the mirror with his freshly tailored suit, he has to consider that maybe the experience was worth the discomfort.

(Later that night, when Matthew picks him up and stutters out a compliment with pink cheeks and eyes that refuse to meet his, he decides that it really was worth it after all.)

Honestly, when Matthew had invited him to this thing, Taerae half expected to just hide in the corner the whole time. Obviously, he knew Matthew would have to go do his networking thing, but he thought he’d politely excuse himself to go mingle and come find Taerae afterwards—if at all.

He knows Matthew said he intended for this night to be an apology of sorts, a way to repay him, finally give him what he deserves as he had put it, but Taerae also knows all too well how dedicated he is to his gym leader duties—he’s put them above Taerae countless times already and frankly, Taerae wasn’t fully confident that tonight wouldn’t just end up adding to the count.

And yet, it doesn’t.

Matthew stays by his side the whole night.

In fact, when Matthew inevitably sees someone across the room he has to go greet, instead of leaving him behind, he holds out his hand for Taerae to take so they can go together.

“Matthew, it’s good to see you,” the man says before turning his attention to Taerae, eyes glittering with something mischievous. “I didn’t hear about you bringing a plus one. Care to introduce us?”

“I was already going to do just that if you’d just given me a chance,” Matthew grumbles. Taerae can’t help but note the slight blush that colors his cheeks.

He wonders if the man’s teasing tone holds any implications about the relationship they might share. A flare of jealousy hits him, though it should have no place here. Matthew isn’t his anymore, he hasn’t been for a long time—Taerae has no right to feel possessive.

Although, Matthew had told him he never stopped loving him, so Taerae can’t help but feel a little betrayed by the appearance of a man who can apparently fluster him enough to make him blush.

But then it hits him that there are more important matters at hand—they had never actually discussed what to do in a situation like this. Again, Taerae expected to be left to his own devices, probably snack on more hors d’oeuvres than is appropriate for one guest, not to actually be introduced to people.

He still should’ve considered it though; if someone happened to strike up a conversation with him and asked for his name, he would’ve had to give some sort of identifier anyway. Instead, he has no idea how Matthew could possibly introduce him, how he even wants to be introduced.

Obviously, Matthew can’t just go around telling people he brought his ex to the most important gala of the year, though that’s probably closest to the truth—and even though it is true, the word “ex” still makes Taerae’s heart sting painfully.

But what other option is there?

A friend? No, that doesn’t feel right. Sure, Taerae’s stopped hurling hurtful jabs towards Matthew at any given chance like he did the first time they met post-breakup, but that doesn’t mean they’re friends. Friends provide each other with comfort and laughter, not whatever awkward air inevitably settles between them now.

An acquaintance? Well, that’s even worse and would only raise questions as to why Matthew would bring someone of so little importance to him to an event of this scale.

The trainer of the Pokémon that his Pokémon is bonded to? Perhaps that is the best attempt at truth without being painful, but it comes with too involved of a story, and though Matthew loves telling stories, Taerae’s not sure such a longwinded explanation is advisable for a setting like this where he assumes all people are expecting is a little exchange of small talk.

In the end, it doesn’t actually matter because while Taerae is here playing mental gymnastics in his own head, Matthew is already answering.

“Taerae, this is Hanbin-hyung, the leader of the Celadon City gym. Hanbin-hyung, this is Taerae,” he says, turning to look at Taerae with a smile before directing his attention back to Hanbin. “He’s my strategist and the sole reason I’ve been on a winning streak lately.”

Oh.

It’s simple, yet effective.

It’s not entirely untrue because Taerae has been giving him some tips, but it’s also wildly exaggerated because Matthew is a talented trainer on his own—that’s how he became a gym leader in the first place—and Taerae’s little pieces of advice here and there do nothing more than slightly hone the skills that were already present. Still, it acts as a good explanation for why Matthew would bring him of all people to this elite trainer event.

That’s not all though.

There’s something about the way Matthew says it; the word “strategist” is laced with such adoration, as if it’s a term of endearment, and stars twinkle in his eyes as he calls Taerae his “reason,” as if he’s that wondrous, something to be admired.

It reminds Taerae far too much of the past. If he were paying any less attention, he might’ve misheard it entirely, the affection in Matthew’s tone might’ve twisted the syllables into another word entirely—partner, boyfriend, lover.

He prays that he’s the only one who notices it and that the heat rising to his face won’t further reveal their little bluff, but it seems he’s out of luck when the playful smirk on Hanbin’s face grows wider.

“I didn’t realize you were hiding such a charming secret weapon,” he says, the teasing glint in his eyes giving away that he definitely knows, that he’s seen right through them.

Matthew blushes bright red and suddenly, Taerae realizes the reason might not be Hanbin after all. Even though he knows it shouldn’t, he can’t help the way that this information makes him smile.

“Y-yeah, so you better watch out, hyung! You’re going down at the next tournament!” Matthew declares.

Hanbin just laughs fondly, “I’ll look forward to it.” Then, he turns to Taerae with an outstretched hand. “I should get going now, but it was nice meeting you, Taerae-ssi. I hope to see you again soon.”

When Hanbin’s out of sight, Matthew faces him, looking a little nervous. “I’m sorry, I hope that was okay,” he says.

Taerae’s confused. “That what was okay?”

“Well, you know, I wasn’t too sure what the best way to introduce you would be and I didn’t want to say anything that’d make you uncomfortable. I didn’t think it’d be right to go around telling people you’re my ex—not that it effects how much I want you here at all, like I meant it when I said it’s fine if you don’t wanna give me another chance and that my only hope for today is that you fully enjoy yourself—but people might be judgy and weird about it and it’d be fine if it were just directed at me, but I didn’t want you to go through that too. Not that Hanbin-hyung would do that, he’s chill and I trust him, but I don’t know everyone on the guest list and—”

Taerae lets Matthew ramble on for another thirty seconds before he decides to put him out of his misery. Even though Matthew had seemed so nonchalant earlier when introducing Taerae, unbeknownst to the chaos going on inside his head, now Taerae feels healed seeing that Matthew shared the exact same concerns. That and he’s perhaps having a bit too much fun watching him floundering like this.

“Don’t worry, it was fine,” he says. It’s endearing, the way Matthew’s face visibly floods with relief. “Although I hope it won’t cause problems for you if people start expecting to see me around at your battles after this.”

“You’re welcome to come!” Matthew says, with a little too much fervor. He coughs, tries to collect himself, and starts again. “It can be as friends too, if that’s what you prefer. I mean, you can think of it like today, like mini little all-expense-paid vacations. If you ever want to, that is.”

“T-that’s a little much just to keep up an act, don’t you think?”

“No, that part doesn’t even matter much. I just want to make up for how I treated you. You deserved so much better and even though I know it’s really late, I’d like to give it to you now, if you’ll let me. And that doesn’t mean I expect anything in return either! I get it if you don’t trust me anymore, but I just really want to do nice things for you—the things that I should’ve done before. You can just think of it like a small thank-you gift.”

Taerae is tempted to point out that a free vacation to potentially another region is not by any means small, but apparently Matthew’s not done talking just quite yet.

“It’d be totally chill, I promise. I’ve gained a bit more credibility by now and I don’t think anyone would blink an eye if I started bringing around my own team, though it’d really only be you. Not that I expect you to be working the whole time! I mean, the advice you give me is always helpful and I’m fully serious when I say I owe my success to you, but you don’t owe me any of that. If you came with me, you could just go around and explore on your own and if you wanted to watch my battles, I’d get you a front row seat, of course, but I wouldn’t want you to feel pressured to and— “

At some point, Taerae stops listening to Matthew’s rambles to instead focus on how cute he is when he gets like this, when his brain runs too fast for his mouth to catch up and he starts stumbling over his words. With how awkward and stunted their conversations have been the past few months, Taerae had almost forgotten just how hard it is to shut Matthew up when he gets like this.

Even after they started texting more regularly, conversation when they met up in person would never quite flow as easily as before. Perhaps it was because they both knew it would make it too easy to fall into old habits. Like Taerae is about to do right now.

Because even after all this time, Taerae still remembers a few things—there’s one method that’s never failed him.

Before he can think better of it, Taerae leans in, steadies Matthew with a gentle hand on the back of his head, and presses a soft kiss against his lips. It cuts him off mid-word.

Matthew stares at him, wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open—he looks adorably stupid like this, Taerae thinks with a chuckle.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. That was just to shut you up,” Taerae teases. But he knows that Matthew knows that’s not all there is to it; Taerae’s not the type to just kiss him without meaning behind it.

It’s not full forgiveness, not yet, but it’s a start. It’s a chance that he’s decided to give Matthew if he’s still up for the challenge.

Matthew’s eyes seem to spark, like the tiny stray bolts of electricity exchanged between Plusle and Minun—Taerae recognizes it as the look he gets right before a Pokémon battle.

Taerae takes this to mean that Matthew is more than willing to take on his challenge.

epilogue

Taerae watches as Matthew accepts his first place trophy at the new Alola Grand Tournament not from his television at home, not from the rows of fans up in the bleachers, but from right behind him in the special area designated for only the most special of guests.

He’s proud of Matthew for battling so well, leading his team to victory, and further proving his skills. He’s happy that he gets to watch it firsthand, knowing that his support is what helped Matthew get here.

Now though, Taerae wants nothing more than to whisk Matthew away and finally get started on his packed itinerary of must-see sights because this is his first time in Alola. Unfortunately, he knows the gym leader will probably be roped into interviews left and right, especially now that he’s been declared the winner.

But then, he looks back up at the field where they’ve finally finished the closing ceremony, and he sees Matthew barreling towards him at a speed that could rival his own Zebstrika. Taerae barely manages to keep his balance as Matthew tackles him in a hug with as much force as a Bewear.

“I won! Did you see me?”

Taerae rolls his eyes, chuckling fondly. “Yes, honey. I’ve been here watching the whole time.”

“Don’t I get a prize?”

“You literally just got your trophy—don’t tell me you already lost it,” Taerae teases. As if on cue, Plusle can be seen struggling to carry the large trophy towards them, though Minun quickly runs over to try and help.

And Taerae knows what he really wants, but it’d be a shame to give in so easily and miss the adorable pout on Matthew’s face. Once he’s had a chance to fully admire it, he decides to finally award Matthew with his prize, pressing a light kiss against his lips.

“That’s it?” Matthew asks, already leaning in to try and steal another.

Taerae gently stops him. “You’ll get the rest later when we’re not surrounded by cameras,” he says, nodding towards the row of reporters who have come to swarm them. “You know they won’t leave without at least a few words from the winner. Go on, I’ll wait here.”

Matthew has other plans though, clinging onto Taerae’s arm like a Komala and dragging him along. “You’re coming with me. We’re a team and I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Taerae pretends to grumble about how he hates the flashing camera lights and can’t stand the nosiness of the reporters, but deep down, his heart flutters at those words, at the way Matthew beams at him when he says them.

“Congratulations on your victory!”

“Thank you, I owe it all to my master strategist here,” Matthew says, ignoring the camera being shoved in his face in favor of staring at Taerae instead.

“Right, um,” the reporter continues, clearly flustered at the unprompted remark. “Do you have any comments on today’s battle? Any thoughts or feelings about the match?”

He doesn’t hesitate at all before cheerfully answering, “Well, all my opponents today were really strong, but I had someone important watching me today, so I couldn’t disappoint him!”

A different reporter chimes in with another question. “As a gym leader, do you have any messages for aspiring young trainers?”

This one actually has Matthew pause to think for a moment. He turns to Taerae with a warm smile before he faces the cameras again to speak.

“The path to the top can be a lot lonelier than it seems, so it’s important to have a good support system,” he says, suddenly sounding so much more serious and wise than his usual bubbly image—even the reporters seem surprised. Of course, it doesn’t take long for the image to be shattered as a wide grin returns to his face once more. “Like, personally, I couldn’t have achieved any of this without—”

“Thank you so much for your time today! I think we have enough material!” the reporter cuts him off before he can gush even more about his boyfriend.

Taerae laughs as the reporters clear out just as quickly as they had come.

“You’re too much sometimes. You should really hire a proper PR manager before you turn all the reporters against you.”

“But they just take up so much time,” Matthew whines. “We’re already way behind schedule on the sightseeing itinerary you planned!”

“I do wanna get to Heahea Beach before dark. People said it’s beautiful at sunset.”

“See? I definitely don’t need a PR manager to sign me up for more stupid obligations that take away from my time with you. Unless of course you’d like to be my PR manager—then, I could consider it because it’d give me more excuses to spend time with you.”

“I think you’re missing the point,” Taerae says, trying to sound stern but doing a terrible job of hiding his amusement. “Now, come on. Let’s hurry up and get back to the hotel.”

Matthew tilts his head in confusion. “Hotel? Shouldn’t we just go straight to the beach?”

Plusle and Minun arrive, huffing and puffing from trying to carry the trophy twice their size, and Taerae picks it up out of their grasp while giving them each a little treat for their troubles.

“Well, we should probably put this somewhere safe first,” he says, then with a smirk adds, “and technically, I did promise you another prize.”

Taerae doesn’t wait for Matthew to process his suggestive tone before he starts making his way towards the exit.

It takes about ten seconds before he hears footsteps rapidly catching up to him. “Wait for me!”

But Taerae doesn’t slow down. There was a time when it felt like all he ever did was wait for Matthew.

He’s tired of waiting. He doesn’t need to anymore.

Because as he hears little footsteps and crackles of electricity trailing behind him, feels strong arms wrapping around him, he knows—in this moment, he already has everything worth waiting for.