#thry's diary

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-!”

It wasn’t everyday Thry called Cheren. They were more of a texter, frankly, or they would just show up in person with a smirk and something stupid to say. Still, it couldn’t be helped if a call was necessary.

Which it was. At that moment.

With a cotton shopping bag in hand, loosely hung between cold fingers, Thry let out a sigh. He should’ve expected it with all the grey clouds in the sky and the slight chill in the air that was definitely odd for a summer day. Usually, they were so on top of everything. They even dismissed Cheren when the gym leader had mentioned the clouds in between sips of coffee at the kitchen counter.

And yet, here they were. Stuck under a tall oak tree that swayed gently with each droplet of rain that pattered against its wide, green leaves. Puddles were already beginning to fill up along the asphalt next to the sidewalk curb, barely trickling down to the storm drain below. Of course, a more permeable surface than concrete and asphalt was arguably better for a rainy day, but it wasn’t like Thry went into urban planning as a career, did they?

“Hey Rotom, call Cheren,” Thry said aloud, watching their trusty Rotom whizz out from their pocket with that big toothy grin of it. It winked (because even Thry’s Pokemon could be sassy) before dialling the number, hovering in front of their face.

Cheren’s contact name was simple. No funny pet names or emojis, just CHEREN in big letters.

“Thry? Is something wrong? You left the house for only a few minutes.”

Cheren’s voice came in through the speaker in that half-worried, half-exasperated tone that made Thry feel like he was the one in trouble. Rude.

“I got caught in the rain…” Thry mumbled halfheartedly. It was already embarrassing enough as it is.

“Pardon, can you say that again?”

Cheeky mother-

Their face immediately soured, their glare hardening at the call screen. “I SAID I GOT CAUGHT IN THE RAIN!”

The awkward silence fell for a moment. It was just the quiet of the rain beginning to pick up its pace and the distant sound of Psyducks splashing around in a pond somewhere.

Thry sighed again. “… sorry for yelling. I got caught in the rain. Yes, I know I’m usually the one who always brags about being right and being prepared. I just forgot it today. You can say ‘I told you so’ now.”

“I doubt I need to say anything, but apology accepted,” Cheren replied, the smile audible from the phone. “Now, stay where you are. I’ll bring an umbrella for you.”

They didn’t even get to reply before Cheren hung up. If Thry didn’t know any better, they would’ve thought their Rotom phone was laughing at them, watching it fly away back into their pocket. With that big smile, their Rotom could be thinking anything.

Still, it was kind of nice that Cheren was going out of his way from his usual ‘coffee me-time’ to walk over to where Thry was standing under a tree a few hundred yards from Cheren’s place. And okay, maybe the whole point of Thry calling was, indeed, to beg Cheren to come pick him up because he hated getting wet, but Thry still had some level of dignity.

It didn’t take long before Cheren appeared on the horizon just across the street with a big, clear plastic umbrella. He was dressed in a plain, back sweater that was tailored just right compared to Thry’s much baggier attire, and ironed slacks. The rain almost seemed to slow as Cheren made his way over, drops sliding down the plastic outer canopy

“Very chivalrous of you,” Thry commented.

“You’re welcome,” Cheren responded. “I figured I would join you on your errand trip anyway.”

Thry stepped under the outstretched umbrella, huffing while they shuffled closer to Cheren. Whether it was just because they wanted to be close or if it was to avoid the rain, it was hard to say. “Yeah? You finished your cup of coffee already?”

Cheren’s lip twitched upwards. “Not at all.”

They scoffed in return but that didn’t stop the small warmth that had settled in their chest from just hearing that. Though before Thry could really stop themself, they snatched Cheren’s free hand in a firm grip.

The gym leader flinched at the sudden contact, but did nothing more than glance down at Thry with a raised eyebrow. “Did you really need to hold my hand with that much force?”

“Yes,” they said simply, already pulling Cheren along down the wet sidewalk towards the closest grocery store in the neighbourhood. “Because I’m… very happy you’re here instead of sipping that black oil you call coffee.”

Thry paused for a moment before shooting Cheren a look. “Just don’t start quoting another one of your life lessons at me about my ego or whatever.”

Chuckling under his breath, Cheren trailed along behind them hand-in-hand. “Noted.”

‘Coffee me-time’ could always be rescheduled after all.

“Get up.”

“… you get up first.”

The early morning light was already sneaking a peek through the sheer curtains Thry had hung up at some point (something about waking up to natural light, which Cheren did not find remotely appealing). The dusty gold painted most of the small bedroom a light white hue, hanging dust motes in suspension in the no longer dark room.

Tangled in white cotton comforters, Thry groaned quietly into their pillow while Cheren lay like a lump on their right. Mornings were for functional people, anyways.

Rolling over onto his side to face the mop of black hair currently in front of his blurry eyes, Thry reached over to let his arm flop onto Cheren’s side. The blanket rustled slightly but no response.

“Get uuuup,” they whined again.

They smacked Cheren’s shoulder lightly a few more times just as Cheren let out a noise of protest.

“Thry…” Cheren grumbled softly, his back still turned and even curled up tighter in white sheets. “Stop it. Just… give me a few more minutes.”

That didn’t deter them though, as Thry was already pressing themselves right against Cheren’s back. With his chest against Cheren’s longer back, Thry could feel his slow, even breathing. He squeezed his arms and legs around the other man just under his ribs and around his waist like a disgruntled Komala.

Under their comforter, Cheren was like a cozy heater. A ever so slightly bony heater, but beggars can’t be choosers. Cheren shifted slightly in his half-asleep slumber, placing a hand atop of Thry’s; a small hint of surrender to the comfort.

The silence settled into the bedroom again until Thry spoke up again.

“We’re both going to be late for work.”

Cheren lightly scratched Thry’s hand. “You will be late. I’m never late.”

Making a face, Thry let out a long-suffering sigh. Their lips found Cheren’s nape, the skin pale against Thry’s more sun-tanned complexion. The butterfly kisses they left behind seemed to do the trick (if the rising flush on Cheren’s neck was anything to go off of) and before long, Cheren started to wriggle.

“Thry- that tickles!” He complained, choking back giggles. Cheren’s once still body was now making a desperate attempt to unlatch a smaller, but hardier, Thry off his back. “Get off! Thry-! I’m up, I’m up!”

Thry beamed, his laugh filling up the quiet peace of the bedroom as they clung onto Cheren. It was a mess of limbs with the comforter a casualty in the friendly wrestle. With one final, obnoxious “Mwah!” just behind his ear, Thry let go of Cheren, flopping back onto their side of the bed with too much smugness for Cheren to deal with at 6 o’clock in the morning.

That left ample room for Cheren to sit up and turn right around to face his partner. With furrowed brows, he shot them an annoyed glance. It did nothing to hide the faint rosy hue that had spread across his face like watercolours.

“You are a terrible alarm clock, you know that, right?” Cheren said. He leaned over, hovering above Thry’s messy bedhead and still gleaming eyes. Without the glare of their glasses, it was easier to see the way brown irises turned caramel in the sunlight. It softened his annoyance. Somewhat.

A sigh left Cheren’s lips, and before he could stop himself, Cheren leaned down to share a brief peck.

Thry’s eyes widened for a moment, caught off guard by the morning kiss, until he was chasing after slightly chapped lips. Their hand came up to snag the collar of Cheren’s white t-shirt just as they sat up. The blanket pooled along their waists and slipped halfway off the bed. The sunlight slipped away for just a moment before it poked its head in again.

By then, Thry had let go of his collar. Their lips twitched upward slightly into that dumb smirk that Cheren hated as much as he loved. Not that Cheren ever admitted it but Thry could tell.

“Heh, your morning breath stinks-”

That earned Thry a pillow to his face as Cheren grumbled all the way out of bed to the bathroom across the hall. Thry’s laughter echoed after him with a lilted charm no one else could ever quite muster up so early in the morning.