#sweetappleshipping

Hot summer days were always the worst; it was always muggy with unbearable, suffocating heat. Even eating felt like too much of a chore.

Though it wasn’t like Cheren ate much anyway (scratch that, more like remember that eating was a necessary human function).

That’s why Thry found himself peeking into the teacher lounge on a day where he would honestly rather be hiding in the forest. At least the tree canopy shaded away most of the sun’s rays.

The teacher lounge of Aspertia’s trainer school, and by extension the Aspertia Gym, was, unfortunately, not air-conditioned. With recent renovations underway for the gym itself, why the actual school never got anything more than a few measly rotating fans was beyond Thry. Either way, it wasn’t like they were some expert in renovations and architecture.

It was quiet in the lounge, save for the rustle of papers or the occasional keyboard tapping. Thry were practically craning their neck through the barely open door like a Diglett until-

“Thry, you don’t have to stick your head into the door first. You can come in.”

Cheren was already standing up from his desk in the lounge, tapping the pile of graded papers in his hands against the desk. Clearly, the heat was getting to him as well; his sleeves were rolled all the way up, and even his usually pristine tie was slightly loosened. More for Thry to look at- what? Who said that!

“I’m just being polite,” Thry retorted with a nose upturned. He pushed the door further ajar to slip inside. The fans whirred overhead, and the light curtains along the wall of small windows billowed in the artificial breeze. Side-stepping the two worn couches, Thry hopped over to Cheren’s side with a grin and a tightly tied cloth bag held up towards Cheren’s face.

”Guess what I have,” they said, dangling the mystery bag in front of the taller man’s face.

Cheren blinked, leaning back a bit to avoid getting smacked in the face. “Um, I’m not sure. A Pokemon?”

A chilled silence fell over the room.

“Give me a real damn guess, Cheren,” they replied sourly. “Or I’m tossing it out the window.”

With a huff, Cheren carefully pushed the bag out of his face. His eyebrow raised to balance out his smile as he examined it. “Well, it’s light enough that you can swing it around in my face. And since it’s just about lunch time, my guess is that it’s food?”

Thry brightened immediately, shoving the bag again into Cheren’s face. “That’s right! I brought us cold sushi to eat together.” They glanced up and down at the much lankier Gym Leader with a grimace. It wasn’t like Cheren was that skinny, per se, but he could always do better. At least, that’s what Thry thought.

“Arceus knows you need to eat.”

“I am not that light-”

But Thry was already dragging Cheren away from his desk by his wrist— just tight enough that Cheren couldn’t escape. If any of the other one or two teachers that were still in the room noticed, they certainly chose not to comment on how the rookie teacher was being dragged around like a stick in a dog’s mouth.

The two plopped down on one of the lounge couches; the old thing creaked as its plush cushions sank to accommodate them. The cloth bag was quickly unravelled to display a carefully packaged, white takeout container, some crumpled napkins, two pairs of plastic-wrapped chopsticks, and some soy sauce packets haphazardly tossed in for the finishing touch. The quintessential takeout sushi experience.

“I got us some sashimi, uh, maki rolls, yam rolls…” Thry continued on to point out each sushi type he got with the takeout container, which sat haphazardly on his lap. “It’s from this new sushi place just down the block— you’ve probably seen it on your walks— so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

Cheren nodded along, unwrapping each of the chopsticks for both Thry and him. He held it out for Thry, who happily grabbed it with a small thanks. “I have seen it, but I haven’t tried anything on their menu yet. This will be a good chance to try out something local. I haven’t had sushi for a while.”

“You haven’t had much of anything to be fair-”

“Thry.”

Thry snickered, grabbing a tuna roll from the container as it jostled slightly (saved only by Cheren using one hand to steady it). “Sorry, sorry, I’m kidding.” Their smile softened in between chewing.

Swallowing the roll, they watched as Cheren grabbed his own tuna roll to eat. Unlike Thry, who shoved the sushi into his mouth with puffed-up cheeks, Cheren had enough manners to eat it in two bites rather than one. It wasn’t like he complained about Thry’s less-than-stellar eating habits, if Cheren reaching over to gently wipe the corner of Thry’s mouth with a takeout napkin was any proof of that.

“I can wipe my own mouth,” they pointed out. They grabbed the napkin out of Cheren’s hand to make a show of independence.

“I never said you can’t. You just get… messy. Sometimes.” Cheren replied easily, already reaching over with his chopsticks to grab a piece of sashimi that Thry had yet to skewer. In fact, it was the last one with how quickly they went through the raw fish pieces. He knew Thry could eat politely, but if it was just the two of them… well, all bets were off the table.

Just as his chopsticks picked up the delicate piece of pink-orange sashimi, Cheren felt a heavy sensation on his left side. One slow turn revealed the source of it; Thry was already staring dead-center at him. Not a single expression graced their lips, though the wide-eyed look and the way those deep brown irises looked straight at Cheren could only mean one thing.

With a half-amused, half-exasperated smile, Cheren lifted the sashimi up to Thry’s mouth. They blinked in surprise, breaking out of the staring stupor with a humble expression. “Wh- Cheren, you don’t have to.”

“I insist,” the Gym Leader said. The raw fish hovered just in front of Thry’s pursed lips, all tempting for poor Thry. “You like sashimi much more than I do. Go on. Say ah.”

Thry floundered for a moment, unsure whether to feel vaguely insulted or grateful. His eyes flickered from the fish to Cheren’s barely concealed smirk, and the rest of the sushi in the takeout container. They were way too weak.

They bit their lip with a hint of a rosy blush behind their black, wire-rimmed glasses, the hesitation clear, before finally…

“Ahhh.”

And just like that, the sashimi was dropped into his mouth. Despite the embarrassment and wounded pride, Thry still chewed on the fish with a small pout. Cheren looked too smug for their liking, his chopsticks retracting back, like he had won this little game. Though Thry had to give it to Cheren, the Gym Leader was strategic.

“Thanks… I guess,” Thry said, side-eying the other man. The frown hadn’t quite left their face yet before they began shoving one of the yam rolls into Cheren’s mouth. “Your turn! Open up, Cherry!”

“Thry, hold on-!”

if you know the audio... you know it.