that of which we cannot speak

“If the world worked the way you want it to,” says Gold, “would you want it?”

Red doesn’t need to think too hard to answer his question; he’s only drunk one bottle and a half, and besides, he doubts Gold knows what he’s saying anyways. “That doesn’t even make sense,” he says, waving his bottle. After a moment’s pause, he takes another chug from it.

“Yeah but,” Gold giggles then, and Red thinks it’s stupid and weird because Gold’s not supposed to giggle, he’s not. Or maybe he is. “You know what I mean, right? Like, if you were god I guess, or if you were in control and could tell everything what to do, and – am I making sense? I’m making sense, right?”

Red’s tempted to tell Gold that no, he’s not making sense, but he does understand. He half wonders if he’s supposed to, since Gold is much, much more drunk than him. Is Red supposed to understand him right now?

He answers Gold’s question with an, “I don’t know.”

“I would,” says Gold. “I would want things to go–hic!–the way I want them to.”

“What would that be?” asks Red curiously. He glances over to him.

He sees Gold’s cheeks turn pink but instead of replying, Gold just takess a large swig from his bottle, and then sighs.

“You’re a thoughtful drunk,” he says to Red, glancing over to him. “Aren’t you? I didn’t know there was such thing as a thoughtful drunk. I thought you’d be more fun.”

“Am I not fun enough for you?” says Red, and then shoves him. Gold pretends to fall over and Red laughs, the sound emitting from his mouth like something large and obnoxious and not quite fitting. Gold seems to detect this as well and laughs, laughs even harder.

They’re in Red’s apartment, on the couch. Red couldn’t have anticipated an evening like this earlier, but Gold had knocked on the door and entered without explanation sometime around five in the afternoon, holding bottles of alcohol that Red didn’t quite understand what they were doing here. Red still doesn’t understand, but he does enjoy the faint buzz in his head from all the alcohol, and wonders if Gold gets plastered like this every night. He supposes he doesn’t mind, though, getting drunk with Gold because he likes Gold. Yes, he thinks stupidly as he falls a little on Gold’s laugh, which happens to be hysterical to Gold. They’re drinking like they’re friends because they are friends, bodies sprawled all over the couch, legs and feet and beer bottles tangled like spiderwebs.

**

In the morning, Red wakes up with a raging headache. He closes his eyes and tries to remember how many beer bottles he had last night. Was it three? Four? Maybe five? Red can’t handle too much, on account that he doesn’t drink that much anyways. He feels around without opening eyes, and is almost shocked when he feels a warm body next to him, before prying his eyes fully open and seeing who it is.

His legs and Gold’s are all over each other, his left ankle beneath Gold’s, his other leg sprawled beneath one of Gold’s thighs and on top of the other. Groaning, Red sits himself up without moving his lower body in case of waking up Gold. His back hurts, and he doesn’t feel like he’s gotten much sleep even though the clock in the living room suggests otherwise.

The lock to his front door clicks suddenly, and the door opens. Leaf enters, chattering excitedly to her jigglypuff, though she stops when she sees Red and the position he’s in.

She raises her eyebrows, and Red rolls his eyes and prevents a blush from coming on.

“This could be taken,” she says, “in so many wrong ways.”

“Shut up,” Red whispers, not because he’s afraid of waking Gold up.

Leaf shakes her head and walks over to him. “He’s younger than you, Red!” she hisses. “Younger! This is like, pedophilia!”

“Shut up,” Red says again, and this time his cheeks are definitely warm. “We didn’t do anything.” Gold’s only two years younger than him, he adds in defense in his mind. It’s not that weird.

“Your mouth says yes but your cock says no.” Leaf, ever crude, points to Red’s morning wood which Red hastens to cover with a nearby couch pillow. It’s not awkward because Red, Leaf and Green have all had sleepovers together and Leaf, like a too-close sister, has witnessed it from the both of them–but it’s embarrassing right now because there’s a third person with them, a third person who’s not Green.

Red peeks over, curiously, at Gold to see if he has morning wood too, mostly because Leaf had pointed it out to him and he wants to see if Gold is in the same state. Gold is, tent visible in his baggy omnipresent shorts, and Red’s cheeks grow even hotter.

“You’re staring,” Leaf’s voice says into his ear, and Red practically jumps, having almost forgotten that she’s here.

**

When Gold finally awakens (after Red has gone to the bathroom to relieve himself, and after Leaf has left–she’d said, “I don’t want to intrude on your love life, Red,” and Red had shoved her and told her at least he had one. He’d been joking, of course, because Sapphire is coming to Kanto this weekend and Leaf can’t wait to see her), it’s a little past lunch time and Gold is rubbing his eyes, sitting up straight on the couch and looking around blearily.

“It’s about time,” Red says blithely from the dining room. Pikachu and poliwrath are eating their pokemon food, but–“I was about to go out to eat.”

“Oh. Shit, sorry.” Gold stands up from the couch, stretching and yawning. Red doesn’t let him stare at the little bit of skin that’s exposed, and definitely doesn’t suddenly realize that Gold is his height, might even have a few centimeters on him, and is bigger than he thought. Being two years older definitely doesn’t mean much, but Red doesn’t realize this, obviously. Not at all.

“It’s okay,” says Red. “I meant I was waiting for you so we could go out to eat together.”

“Oh – really? I feel like I’m intruding on you or something.”

Red laughs. “Dude, you intruded on me yesterday afternoon. Now it’s like, I dunno.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his coffee. “Supposed to be normal. Or whatever.”

“Right. God, I’m starving,” says Gold, massaging his stomach. Red also definitely doesn’t notice how Gold’s shoulders are broad, his frame is strong. “How long did I sleep?”

“More than me,” says Red. “C’mon, let’s go, I’m starving too.”

They walk out of the apartment building like the boys they are, a little bit largely and clumsily but ultimately not caring if they look like shit. Gold has faint bags under his eyes and sometimes he has to lean against Red to steady himself, and Red can feel the brunt of his weight and often shoves Gold off, tells him to stop it. He doesn’t mean it, of course, but he feels like it’s something he’s supposed to do. (He’s okay with it, though, when Gold just ignores him every time and laughs and continues to press against him for support.)

“Man,” says Gold, stifling a yawn. “I thought I’d get a worse hangover than this in the morning. This actually isn’t that bad.”

“You get drunk a lot?” Red is amused; Green finds drinking irresponsibly distasteful and Leaf isn’t the type for it, either. Green’s attitude toward it has somewhat rubbed off on Red, though Gold drinking is somewhat fitting.

“Yeah. Well, when I can.” Gold lets out a large yawn this time, stretching his arms above his head, his mouth obnoxiously wide. Red can see his teeth, can smell the faint scent of booze from him. “I mostly just go out to pubs and stuff, alone.”

“I didn’t know there were many,” says Red. Gold shakes his head.

“There aren’t, but I gotta do it once in a while. Keeps me grounded.”

Before they reach the restaurant, which is on the corner of a street a few blocks down that Red goes to every once in a while, Gold lets out his politoed and Red nudges Wrath out, and soon enough the two water pokemon are bounding on ahead of them, politoed jumpy and eager, and Wrath wanting to seem the responsible one even though Red knows that Wrath could have as much energy as politoed if he wanted to. Pika stays on Red’s hat, and Gold reaches over and tickles him.

“He doesn’t like that,” Red tells him, but to his surprise, Pika seems perfectly fine with it, leaning into Gold’s touch with his eyes closed, preening. “Or. I guess he does.”

“I should battle you sometime,” Gold says thoughtfully, and Red shakes his head, afraid of defeating Gold.

“Maybe,” he says, “but some later time.” He doesn’t want to think about it. “Look, food!” he says, changing the topic and pointing to the restaurant.

“Yes! Finally,” says Gold, lifting his arms in victory. “What’re you getting?”

“I dunno, probably some pizza or something. And a burger. And maybe some fries. And a soda.” Red pauses. “I think I’ll get an ice cream, too.”

“God, that sounds so good.” Gold moans (and Red pretends not to hear.) “I think I’ll get all that too, and some steak.”

“I’ll get a steak too then,” says Red.

Gold shoots him a look, and grins. “There’s no way you can eat more than me, man,” he says. “No. Way.”

“Wanna bet?” says Red.

**

Gold’s like a rocket, all fire and speed and Red goes just as fast as him, shoveling food into his mouth, both to out-eat Gold and also because he’s really just starving. When they finish, Gold lets out a monstrous burp and Red lets out an even more monstrous one

“That eating contest probably wasn’t a good idea.” Gold moans and sinks down into his seat. “God, I feel so full.”

His pichu is lying on the ground, in the same position as him. Red finds it hilarious, pokemon and pokemon trainer stuffed and bloated and both ready looking to fall asleep.

“You think you feel like a fatass? I had two things of ice cream.” Gold had had one. Red had won their eating contest.

“Yeah, shit, I don’t think I’m going to eat again,” says Gold, and then laughs. “I’m probably going to be hungry again in three hours.”

“I feel you–” Red interrupts himself to burp “–on that,” he finishes, and Gold barks out a laugh.

“God, man.” Gold manages to sit up, though, and looks straight at Red. “So, ready for that pokemon battle?”

“Dude,” says Red, and feels what it means just by saying that word dude. “I said later. Sometime later.”

“It’s sometime later right now, isn’t it?” says Gold. “C’mon, Red, I trained under you for months at Mt. Silver, but we never actually battled. Don’t you want to see how all that training paid off?”

“Not really, no,” says Red, but he’s joking and Gold knows it by the way that he nudges Red’s shoulder and chuckles lightly. Red sees his eyes glow with happiness and wonders if Green is using his gym.

“Hey, Silver came into town with you, didn’t he?” he says, and Gold nods. “Call him and tell him to keep Green busy so we can use his gym.”

“Okay,” says Gold lightly and he pulls out his cellphone. Red can see the enthusiasm in his eyes as he talks to Silver.

**

So Green’s gym is cleared out and Red and Gold go there, ready to battle. Red realizes by accident that he has most of his strongest pokemon with him–snorlax, and pikachu of course, and there’s also Saur and his lapras.

“Ready for this? I’m totally ready.” Gold looks a little bit nervous, though, and he’s rubbing his palms on his shorts.

Red grins. “I’m more ready than you are.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” Gold wipes his palm on his shorts one last time, and then takes the billard stick from his back and tosses two pokemon out. “Go, typhlosion and politoed!”

“So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” says Red. He pulls out his own pokeballs, and throws them out the normal way. “Saur, Wrath!”

The battle goes on steadily at first, neither trainer going soft, neither relenting. Red realizes after his Saur has narrowly missed one of Typhlosion’s fire blasts that they’re at the same pace, on the same level–like when they’d had that eating contest, and when they’d been drinking last night (although Gold seems to have suffered more of the aftereffects in both situations.)

It’s not easy, Red realizes several minutes later after this, battling Gold. He wants to think that it’s his training that has turned Gold into such a hard trainer, but the truth is that Gold had always been a hard trainer in the first place. Red remembers when he and Gold had been up there at Mt. Silver, ages ago, and Red had been trying to tell Gold to endure and Gold was weakening, was complaining and panting along with his pokemon. But never once had Gold even mentioned the idea of giving up even when he felt like he absolutely sucked; never once did Gold actually admit to not being strong enough. Because Gold would never think of himself this way–Gold would either think he’s sufficiently strong, at least for now, or he won’t stop until he can feel this way.

Red hasn’t felt anything along those lines before, but he admires Gold and his pokemon, when Gold calls out commands, when Gold knows what his pokemon are capable and aren’t capable of doing. Red has always wanted to reach the top of his mountain, but for Gold, there isn’t a top: it’s just a long flat-paned journey, and Gold will go along that path at his own pace, enjoying every second of the way.

**

Gold beats him, but it’s close and it’d only been because Red had been distracted by the way sweat was beading at Gold’s temples and Gold had flicked his black fringe from his eyes, and Red hadn’t been paying attention when Gold’s Ambipom had double-slapped Pika into fainting. Gold’s pokemon are as strong as his now.

“It was close,” says Gold when they finish, and Red only shakes his head and grins.

“Congratulations, you beat the Kanto champion,” says Red, and Gold laughs.

“It feels more like I beat you. Red.” Gold turns pink then, and faces forward as if there’s something he doesn’t want Red to see. “What should we do for the rest of the day?” he asks.

Red likes it, likes the way Gold says we and then what should we do as if the world is an encompassing place for he and Red to explore. Red likes that.

“I dunno, I usually find things to do or hang out with Leaf or Green,” he says. “Except Green’s with Silver, and Leaf’s… I don’t know where Leaf is.”

“Eh, girls,” says Gold with a shrug, which makes Red turn to him curiously.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” he asks, and covers it up with, “I thought you and Crystal might’ve been a thing.”

“Oh. No.” Gold shrugs again but he’s still smiling. “She’s nice, she’s just not my type.”

“What is your type, then?” Red teases, and he expects Gold to answer but Gold just laughs and bats him away, and Red punches him in the arm.

“What about you?” he asks. “You’re always–like, you and Yellow.” Gold looks embarrassed and glances at his feet. “Yellow has a crush on you, doesn’t she?”

Red sighs; people have been bothering him with this question for the past five years. Mostly Leaf’s been bothering him, really. “Yeah, everyone thinks she does. I do too. I just,” he shrugs, the same way Gold had. “Not really that into girls, you know?” he says.

“Yeah,” says Gold, punching his arm back. “I know exactly what you mean,” he says, and Red thinks, hopes he does.

**

They run into Green and Silver later, who inform them that Silver’s going to stay around here in Kanto even though he shares an apartment with Gold and Crystal back in Johto. Silver groans when Gold tells him he’s staying here, too, though Red thinks that Silver might not mind as much as he lets on.

“Why do you three share an apartment, anyways?” he asks when they leave the cinema that Green and Silver had just entered.

“Cheaper, more convenient. Less room, though, since all of us like to hog things and we’re not exactly the best at sharing,” says Gold, and he laughs. “Except when it comes to each other. I think Crystal and Silver are the only people I can share things with.”

Red feels a burn of jealousy run through him, and tries to pass it off by saying, “Not even with me?”

Gold laughs again. “Especially not with you. I won’t want to let you have anything. Everything’s mine. Even you’re mine.” His next laugh sounds forced, awkward.

Red socks his shoulder. “I couldn’t live with Leaf and Green together if I tried,” he says. “They’d drive me crazy.”

“I’d imagine,” says Gold. He rubs his stomach again. “Damn, I’m hungry.”

“Me too.” It’s six in the evening; he and Gold have spent the day lounging around Viridian City, looking for things to do and occasionally doing those things, like playing laser tag with their pokemon and spending eight thousand pokedollars at the arcade. It’s been a successful day, Red can tell himself, and he’s been immensely happy all day, not wanting anything to bring him down from this high.

“Man, we’re such fatasses,” says Gold. “C’mon, I’ll treat and pick the restaurant this time.”

**

“Why did you come to my house yesterday afternoon?” asks Red when their dinner has been all situated. It’d been seafood, with fresh calamari and shrimp. Gold has excellent taste.

“With beer bottles,” Red adds.

Gold plays with the toothpick in between his teeth and his knees accidentally bump into Red’s. They’re both leaning back, their legs outstretched in front of them, sitting across from each other. “Just thought I haven’t seen you for a while,” he says, and his tone is casual. “I didn’t think you would mind a night of drinking.”

“I didn’t – but still,” says Red. “What are you and Silver doing here?”

“Silver wanted to visit his father, and I came with him to drop by here and say hi.” Gold looks shy, all of a sudden. “We haven’t talked since I left Mt. Silver, and I missed you.”

Red had missed him too, now that he comes to think about it. The day Gold had left had been painfully bright and sunny and felt warm even though the snow had been swirling around them, and they’d parted on their separate ways after six months of training, Red to Kanto, Gold to Johto. Red hadn’t thought of himself as Gold’s mentor all that time, and he certainly doesn’t think of himself that way now. He’d thought of himself as Gold’s friend, and realizes now that not even thinking or attempting to keep in contact with him makes him a shitty friend.

“It’s okay,” says Gold, like he’s reading Red’s mind. “It doesn’t matter. I’m glad I got to spend time with you, that’s all.”

He bumps Red’s knee with his on purpose this time, and Red bumps back until they’re swatting and hitting each other and get kicked out of the restaurant.

**

Gold tells him that he wants to go to the beach after this, even though night is falling and the sun is barely in the sky, only a faint dot in the distance. Red nods and they go, running into Sapphire and Leaf along the way, who have their arms around each other’s waists.

“The beaches in Hoenn are better,” Sapphire observes when they’re both sprawled out on their separate planes, Sapphire and Leaf sharing a beach blanket, Red and Gold next to each other but not as close. Red wants to think they’re not that far, either.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Hoenn,” says Gold, and Red says, “Me too.”

“We should go together sometime.” The smile Gold sends to him is blaring, and Gold might realize this too because he tones it down a little and Red misses it, and is reileved.

“I don’t know if I’ll have the time,” Red says honestly.

Leaf, from the beach blanket, shoots him a look. “Really Red? You do nothing all day except roam around Kanto and battle random challengers.”

“And eat,” Gold chortles.

“And eat,” Red agrees, chuckling as well.

“Dear lord, your priorities.” Leaf rolls her eyes. “Go. Travel to Hoenn with Gold. I command you to do it.”

“I don’t take your commands,” Red says to her, teasingly. “But I guess I will. I mean. Since apparently I ‘do nothing all day.'”

Sapphire laughs and kisses her girlfriend on the mouth before Leaf can argue any further. Gold and Red don’t look at each other, but Red feels Gold sock him on the arm and hears him say, “Yeah, let’s do it.”

**

They go their separate ways and Gold and Red say good-bye to Leaf and Sapphire, who are going back to the hotel that Sapphire is staying at. Then Gold says, “Should I go or – ” and Red says, “No, stay.”

They stand there for a second, together under the moonlight and the damp lamplights. Red thinks the Cerulean Bridge looks beautiful from here, but then he looks at Gold and all he sees is Gold, and then Gold is pulling him in and kissing him on the mouth.

Gold is, indeed, taller than he thought, and Red kisses back, not too enthusiastically but enough to be considered a response. Gold is holding onto his hands, wrists, his hands a little clammy against Red’s skin. Red moves his lips against Gold’s and slides his hands forward to touch Gold’s stomach, lifts his shirt up and rubs against his belly. Gold presses into it, and Red feels like he’s pushing through the veil that separates their bodies to see Gold, to really touch him.

They break apart, eventually, panting into each other’s faces. “Stay,” Red repeats, and then, “In my apartment,” because he finds the specification necessary.

“Should we go now?” Gold’s glazed eyes are bright against the moon.

Red smiles. His wrists are still in Gold’s, and he turns them over so that they’re holding hands.

It takes them six minutes to get back to Red’s apartment, mostly because they run, and Gold throws himself onto Red’s couch and flings Red down upon him, and Red doesn’t mind it at all.