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It started at the bar.
Well, that’s what he wants to say. In reality, it started with the vague sense that something needed to change.
But he’ll say it started at the bar.
It was supposed to be an average night of him drinking alone. A glass of whatever wine they had or a pint of beer, with the chance of joining a game of pool started by the other regulars.
Instead, Emmet met a man.
Tall (but not taller than himself, dragons no ), with broad shoulders and a glint of something he couldn’t place in eyes that were either amber or brown.
He couldn’t tell the man had been flirting with him the whole conversation until he’d asked if Emmet lived nearby.
Whatever libido was normally absent, was for some reason, there. And it left him feeling weird.
But weirder still, was the feeling of hands working their way down the buttons of Emmet’s vest on the taxi ride to his empty apartment.
The subway boss had opened the door with practiced motion; the man, who’s name he had either forgotten or never gathered in the first place, was right behind him.
The stranger had had the courtesy to let Emmet hang his coat on the rack before pushing him against the wall.
Emmet’s vest came off first, and, falling to the floor, it removed the barrier of fabric that was keeping him safe from foreign hands.
The man buried his face into the crook of Emmet’s shoulder; slowly, gently tracing kisses over his prickling skin until he ended by hovering near the edge of his throat. Emmet imagined, to anyone else, it would’ve been a nice gesture, but it prickled sharply against his skin.
His hands slid down to Emmet's hips, tugging at the black button-up that was still tucked into his white uniform from hours earlier.
When his palms finally ended up under Emmet’s shirt, pressed against his back and sinking lower to the waistline of his pants, he was more aware of his entire body than he wanted to be.
Emmet’s gloved fingers were over the man’s arms, if they were trying to push away or pull him closer, he couldn’t tell. The side of Emmet’s knee was against the man’s thigh, but was moving further past as the distance between their hips slowly closed.
The man shifted, making their shoes nudge together. His weight changed, mouth moving from his neck to someplace lower, stopping at his collar bone.
It felt weird.
The man’s hands weren’t rough; in neither the way they moved nor how they felt against his skin; but everytime they moved, tugged, or pushed at his body, it left a trail of unpleasant rawness that he couldn’t shake.
Emmet’s eyes pinched closed as the stranger started to undo the belt from his uniform.
Something in his spine shuddered as he heard the leather slip away from his belt loops.
No. He tried to breathe out, but his voice didn’t follow. Instead his hands clenched around the man’s shirt, pulling him away.
“N-No,” Emmet stammered out, making the man draw back.
Their eyes met. He still couldn’t tell if they were brown or amber.
“Is something wrong?” He asked, drawing closer to his ear, starting to line his jaw with a slow moving kiss.
Emmet’s hands shifted from his back to the front of his shoulders, gently pushing him away. “I’m sorry.” He said, words riding on a shaky breath, eyes still closed.
He opened them again to a confused expression on the man’s face.
Emmet felt the space in his chest start to burn. It hurt to think about.
Why am I thinking about Ingo? In the middle of this?
Why am I thinking of Elesa?
Emmet’s brows knitted together. He closed his eyes again, trying to compose himself enough to find his voice.
How do I want literally anyone else here right now?
“I am sorry, this is not-” Emmet glanced away, quickly withdrawing from the man’s body and gently pushing him towards the center of the living room.
His cheeks felt hot as he grabbed at the unbuttoned part of his shirt, as if it would fix the tightness in his chest.
This is embarrassing.
This is always embarrassing.
Emmet’s breath shook as he looked at the man again. He was clearly confused; things had probably been going so well from what he could see, just for his partner of the night to draw away.
Maybe it was one too many drinks that had made Emmet think he would’ve been okay with this. Maybe it was just a need for some sort of change in schedule.
Which was funny, because Emmet had, historically, hated changes in schedule.
“I am sorry. I misjudged. My own- uhm. I am not enjoying myself.” He explained, making the man’s expression shift from something confused to slightly annoyed.
Emmet’s hands were twitching, thumb running over his knuckle. His already-hot cheeks felt like they’d raised in degrees again when the man shifted uncomfortably.
“I can call you a cab, if you want.” The subway boss offered, pausing.
What else was he supposed to do to make this better?
Emmet straightened, swallowing. “Uhm. Again, I am sorry. It is- It is not your fault, please do not think so.” He tried to get across without letting his flat voice break.
The man nodded, jaw tightening as he tugged at his shirt. “Just call me a cab.”
Emmet’s inhale came in shaky. He nodded, grabbing at the phone he had abandoned at the stand by the door.
The man was gone quickly enough after he called the cab.
Emmet still stood there in the living room, dragging his hands down his face.
Cold palms pressed against cheeks, that, even through the gloves, were undoubtedly glowing.
The lone subway boss kicked the discarded belt and vest to the wall, the buckle hitting the trim with a soft metallic clatter.
Emmet slumped into the couch, pressing his hands over his eyes to darken his already unlit environment. He groaned.
This wasn’t the first time he had tried something like this.
Even with different factors– Gender, setting, friends or strangers– it always ended up the same; with nothing happening, and him feeling embarrassed that he let the whole thing occur.
But now, it seems worse. Even if it was a stranger that he didn’t want touching him, let alone get to any place more intimate, having someone around made his quiet apartment less lonely.
He knew there were the pokemon he and his brother had gotten over the years, whether through their gym circuit or other circumstances, but with them quietly sleeping away in their various spots around the apartment, it felt suffocating.
Emmet moved his hands off his face and peered at the popcorn ceiling above him. The fan twirled quietly in tandem with the static in his ears, nullifying the sound completely.
He glanced to the left, where his phone was thrown across the cushions.
The subway boss weakly pawed in its direction until he reached it, pulling it just barely close enough to see the names written in the contact list.
After a few taps, the phone was ringing. A voice on the other end picked up, sounding slightly tired.
“You’re still awake? It’s already ten. What’s up Emmie?” Elesa asked, punctuating her question with a yawn.
He wanted to say something, but it came out as more of a hum than any words.
Elesa clicked her tongue, huffing into the microphone. “Bad night?” She guessed, tone soft at the edges.
“Something like that.” He managed to whisper. He was thankful the phone caught his words, with Elesa’s response being a stretch and a hum.
“Do you want me to come over?” The gym leader asked, voice crackling slightly from the static of the speaker.
He nodded, glancing at the empty space next to him before mumbling, “That’d be nice.”
“I’ll be there soon.” She assured, hanging up with a beep.
Emmet sighed, tossing the phone back to the cushion he had originally grabbed it at.
It was ten at night, probably slightly past, and Elesa was coming over. The routine was familiar, even if they normally did it earlier in the evening.
They both had work tomorrow, which meant they would both wake up at four in the morning.
Emmet sat up from the barely comfortable couch, rubbing his face with a hand covered in black cloth, glancing at the kitchen through his fingers.
The least he could do for having her over so late was wine and cheese.
Elesa knocked on the door as he was setting down the glasses at the coffee table.
He glanced at the door, taking a stride to answer it before noticing the belt and vest he had kicked into the corner where the TV cabinet met the wall.
Emmet paused for a moment, staring at the apparel while his hand hovered at the door knob.
A shudder ran down his spine as he pushed the situation from earlier out of his mind and peeled the door open.
Elesa was in a tank top and a halfway zipped jacket. Her pants were from a set of pajamas Emmet’s father had gifted the three of them years ago, when Ingo was still around to wear them. The yellow that made the base of the cloth was more of a goldenrod rather than the electric color they had been when their dad had gifted it to her.
She was smiling, a bottle of wine in hand. Emmet laughed as she held it up with a small shake.
The subway boss sidestepped to let her in, at which she entered without comment and made herself comfortable on the couch, grabbing a blanket from one of the corners.
Emmet went back to the kitchen to grab the other bottle of wine, and the cutting board he had haphazardly thrown together. On it were crackers, cheddar and white cheddar, and some cranberry cheese that had confused and intrigued him at the store last week.
Elesa was pouring them glasses by the time he got back to the living room, bottle opener discarded at the far end of the coffee table.
He set down the cutting board, sitting himself down on the couch as Elesa handed him a glass. He took it without a complaint, clinking it to the one she held.
They took a synchronized sip as Emmet leaned back against the cushions, humming to himself.
Elesa was helping herself to the white cheddar squares, stacking slices between crackers.
“You look like shit, man.” She commented before taking a bite of the three story ritz tower. “What happened?” The gym leader asked while chewing, covering her mouth with a hand.
Emmet sighed, mulling over the situation in his mind. He called her over to talk about it. It’d destroy the entire reason she was here.
“Went to the bar.” He finally said. Elesa finished her cracker tower with another bite, taking a sip of her wine.
Emmet swirled his own in its glass as Elesa swallowed her snack. “And then?”
He looked at her, eyebrows bowed in a silent plea. She stared back, raising her own and gesturing for him to go on.
The lone twin shuffled, pulling one of his legs closer to himself, shoe ending up on the sofa in a way he could not care about at the moment.
Emmet looked away before taking another sip of wine, trying to find the confidence that Ingo had when he spoke.
“Mmmmmmmm. I met a guy.” He said, remembering his time at the bar earlier, sipping on various drinks. He could feel Elesa’s eyes on him, and when he turned to look at her she was still listening intently.
He felt like his face was scrunching up weirdly. It probably was ; Elesa’s left eyebrow twitched when he felt his smile wryly twist. The situation was uncomfortable.
She offered him a piece of cheese on a cracker, the cranberry one that he had picked up when he noticed they rearranged the dairy section at the store. Emmet took it with a nod.
He ate it in a single bite, taking a sip of wine to clear his throat, then shrugged. “Things happened.”
Emmet glanced at the vest and belt next to the door, then to the cheeses on the coffee table. “Got nervous. Things did not happen.” He explained, head falling onto the back of the couch.
“Called you. Cut up some cheese. Started drinking wine.” Emmet finished, taking another sip from his glass.
Elesa’s head was tilted, and her brows fixed in puzzlement when he looked back at her. She took another sip of wine before setting it down on the table. “You got nervous?”
Emmet took a long sip, grabbing one of the cushions not supporting anyone and pulling it close to his chest.
“Yeah.” He muttered. He felt like his face was gonna flush pink again at the thought of what happened before.
She hummed thoughtfully for a moment. “So you got nervous. It’s not like you’re banned from getting nervous. And nothing happened. That’s fine too. Why do you look like you got run over about it?” The gym leader asked, mimicking Emmet by grabbing another unused cushion to hug.
The subway boss massaged his brow. “It’s just embarrassing. I mean-” He tried to explain, gesturing with his free hand.
“It just feels like-” He paused to gesture again, feeling his smile twist into loops that were sure to become a broken frown with the way this way going.
Elesa handed him another cracker with cheese, this time with white cheddar.
Emmet accepted it with a hum, taking a nibble. Elesa huffed.
“Just do your best to describe it. What’s going on in Emmet land when you go about this kinda stuff?”
Emmet looked at her and took a bite out of the cracker. His falling smile stalled for a moment, and even perked up slightly at her playful dialogue.
He finished his cracker with a sip of wine, fingers drumming against the fabric of the cushion.
“Hm. . . How would I describe it.” He said, shifting to place the wineglass on the table as he pulled off his shoe.
“It is. . . Almost like some sort of stuck door, I think.” He drawled, pulling off the other black shoe with enough ease to let him quickly resituate himself, legs crossed as he put the cushion back in front of him and leaned to grab his glass.
Emmet took a sip of his wine, free arm resting on the sturdy fabric. “I feel like, if I keep pushing at it, something will give way and I will get to see whatever is on the other side that everybody keeps talking about.”
He pushed the cushion forward, letting it fall face down to sit in his lap.
Elesa took a bite from another cracker, nodding. “And you want to open the door?”
He gestured vaguely, shrugging as his face scrunched in confusion. “Sometimes it seems neat to be on the other side. Most of the time I don’t care. But the problem is,” He explained, running his hands through his hair.
“The door is stuck . Even if I do want to get to the other side, that means I have to push the door open.” He said, leaning back on the couch again.
Elesa took a sip of her wine, stacking the normal and white cheddar between alternating crackers. “So why don’t you push open the door?” She asked curiously, picking up her tower and holding it next to her mouth.
Emmet leaned over the cushion in his lap again. “That is what I keep doing, but the door does not open. It just creaks. And I keep pushing at it, and it just keeps creaking, and then it’s a thought of it breaking instead of opening?”
The subway boss ran his fingers through his hair again. “What if the door breaks and I am at the other side but it is just a mess of splinters and wood and the party was a whole lie? I am covered in splinters for no reason.”
Elesa finished her cheese stack. “Hold on. Pausing you for a second. What the hell is that?” She asked, leaning over to point at his neck.
Emmet’s free hand reached to feel at his throat, tracing with his fingers until he felt something.
The ‘something’ happened to be a tender spot above the neckline of his shirt, which he prodded at for a moment with a groan.
“Dammit.” He sighed, leaning back and pinching his nose bridge. Elesa chortled, trying to cover her face with a hand. “Oh my god, he left hickies ?” She commented, trying to kill the snicker in her voice.
Emmet groaned. “ I have work tomorrow! ” He exclaimed, taking another sip of wine.
Elesa waved his complaints away with her glass in hand, still chuckling, “It’s fine, I can bring things to cover it up in the morning, it’s no big thing. Back to the metaphor; So, Door. Stuck. Gotta push it open. Keep trying, but you’re scared it’s gonna break and, what, cover you in splinters?”
Emmet gestured with a hand. “Basically. What if I think I want to get over there but it ends up not being anything like I thought it was?” He simplified, taking another cracker Elesa offered him.
She hummed for a moment, the edge of her winglass tapping against her chin. “What’s the door look like for other people?”
The subway boss thought for a moment. “Something fun. Like a sliding door. Or one with those doors with the opening and they ask for a password. Something easy they like to walk through.” He explained, raising his glass in frustration.
“Perhaps some sort of balloon arch with confetti. The point is that my door is stuck and that makes me not want to go to the party. People enjoy the door.” He said, finally popping the cracker with white cheddar into his mouth.
“So the door sucks. Why do you want to go to the party if the door sucks?” She asked, taking another sip of wine, carefully rearranging her couch cushion.
Emmet gestured widely. “What if the party is fun? What if the door stays unstuck? What if I end up liking the door?” He shook his head. “It’s frustrating.”
The gym leader shrugged. “I think if you’ve been having so many problems with the door then you probably won’t like the party.” She offered, taking another slice of cheese for herself. “The door is part of the party, right? If the door is part of it, and it SUCKS, then just stop trying to go.” Elesa said with a clear wave of her hand like she had solved it.
Emmet tilted his head and made a face.
“But…what if it’s not lame?”
Elesa looked at him and waggled her finger. “But buddy, you see, generally when you don’t like the door, you don’t like the party. Most people I know don’t like the party, and don’t like the door. I didn’t like guy’s doors. I didn’t like their parties.” She said, gesturing to him.
The lone twin chewed at his cheek. “Hm.”
Elesa gestured, taking the last sip from her glass. “You really don’t gotta go to the party if you have so much trouble just trying to get in . Like you said, it might just ruin the party being covered in splinters.” She said, putting her empty glass on the table, shuffling herself deeper into the couch cushion and blanket she had claimed earlier.
Emmet placed his own glass onto the table, with only a few sips left circling the bottom. He leaned back, sinking further into the couch, pulling the cushion to his chest. Elesa rubbed her temple. “I think I got the metaphor, right?”
He nodded, but when he saw her eyes were closed, her cheek resting on her knuckles, he switched to a hum of agreement.
“Just let yourself know where you want to go. Maybe just stay in with a friend or something. Read a book. Make it a movie night. You know?”
Emmet chuckled. “I think the metaphor keeps getting a little far.”
She shrugged, tucking her head into a dip in the couch cushion with an exhale. “Moral of the story, don’t go to the party.” Elesa finished with a small gesture of her fingers. “And clean this up. I’m tired. It’s bedtime, and you’re taking me home.”
The subway boss chuckled and stretched his own limbs before laying his head back on the couch.
Emmet felt the same tiredness seep through his body. Whatever energy had been there at the bar– anxiousness or thrill, maybe something else– had thoroughly passed, leaving the numb feeling of needing to rest in its place.
The subway boss sighed to himself, closing his eyes. His breathing settled for a moment while building up the energy to clean.
It would take two minutes.
. . .
Maybe three. Emmet thought quietly as his head rolled to the side, still clinging to the couch cushion in his lap.
The lone twin would cap it at ten at the most, he told himself, listening to Elesa breathe softly on the other side of the couch.
A voice in his head told him to get up after the assumed timeframe, which he shoo’d away after imagining having to move his heavy limbs.
He’d do it in the morning.
That’s where the night ended; two electric trainers asleep on the couch, clutching cushions and breathing softly, waiting for their alarms to go off and scramble to start the day.
The need for change would be gone by the time he got to work; and as Elesa would leave the train station for her own job, Emmet would be feeling much better with the knowledge he had of himself.
Really, the night had been successful after all.