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They were five hours into the flight when the airpods died.
Green's died first; Red felt him shift with sudden restlessness, heard the irritated click of his tongue. A few seconds later, his announced "Low battery," and then went silent. Red's only reaction was to stop tapping the beat against his knee.
"Pieces of junk," Green muttered, plucking the airpod from his ear. He held out his hand and Red removed his as well, dropping it into his waiting palm. Green tucked them away in their protective case and then into the side pocket of his bag, grumbling as he made sure to zip it back up. Red smiled a little at Green's determination to care for things even as he insisted he didn't care at all.
Without the airpod to distract him, Red's focus was again drawn by the relentless high whine of the engine and the weird feeling of pressure in his ears. It had been a nice way to pass the hours, though. Red caught Green's eye and then bobbed his head, silently thanking him for the music.
Green bit his lip, looking away to hide his sudden flush. "You just liked it because it played more of your songs than mine," Green said. "My music app betrayed me."
Red smiled and leaned against Green's side. There was a beat before Green shifted his weight, leaning back, their upper arms a line of firm sensation, Green's elbow jammed between them on the narrow armrest. It wasn't comfortable but it was reassuring, which in its own way was comfort enough.
Red hadn't been paying close attention to the songs as they played, but he did recognize more of them than not, so Green was probably right. Green always paid more attention to things like that, keeping tallies that Red had no real interest in.
By this point, they'd done enough inter-continental travel that they both knew how boring the plane rides could be, so over the years they'd been cobbling together an in-flight mix, Green's tastes running towards bubbly pop and boy bands, Red trending towards modern folk and chillhop. It was a weird mix that only grew weirder as they added to it, ricocheting between calm zone-out melodies and things straight off of Green's cardio workout playlist, but Red liked it. He liked learning what Green liked.
The silence stretched. Green tapped his fingers against the armrest, and Red turned away to gaze out the window. It had a tint to it, muting the unrelenting brilliance of the sun outside into something dark blue and manageable. Below all Red could see were the thick roils of clouds. He never came up this high with Charizard—the winds were too unpredictable, and the diminished oxygen up here made his tail flame gutter. If something happened to the plane, he'd have to wait until they dropped below the clouds before he could ask Charizard to help.
The thought made his hands roam towards his poké balls, feeling reassured by the familiar smooth metal under his fingers. It wasn't likely that something would happen, he told himself. The pilots were experienced, and the planes were held to strict safety standards. But Red still didn't like it, depending on something outside of his own strength and the strength of his pokémon. It had taken Green a long time to convince him to get on one of these international flights in the first place, not least because Pikachu had to remain in his poké ball for the duration.
Red tapped Pikachu's poké ball, thinking about all the forms they'd had to fill out, the intense scrutiny of the Galar embassy as they assessed the pokémon Red wanted to bring. It had been hard to bring a full team of six to Galar, even though Kanto and Galar had similar wildlife, even though Red and Green were who they were. As he went through all the steps, he was grateful that he'd followed Daisy's advice and registered his primary team as formal support pokémon a few years before. He'd have to stay in quarantine with his team for ten days, but at least they wouldn't be separated during that time.
He was shaken out of his thoughts by Green tapping his shoulder. He blinked as he turned, and then blinked again at the feverish light in Green's eye. His tablet was tilted at a haphazard angle on the small tray table, as if he'd tossed it there. The screen was still on, showing lines and lines of tiny scientific text. Red's eyes darted to his watch next; it had only been fifteen minutes. Was Green bored already?
"Hey, Red," he said. "Have you ever heard of the mile high club?"
Red's brow furrowed. He tilted his head, wracking his memory, before giving a small shake of his head. Green smirked.
Instead of explaining, Green turned back to his tablet and typed something into the search bar, quickly scrolling through a few webpages. He nodded once and then handed the tablet over to Red.
A few seconds passed in silence. Then they reacted nearly in tandem: Red's eyes widened and his muscles tensed as he read, and a split second later Green turned away to stifle a laugh in his fist.
Red didn't know where to look for a moment, his eyes darting between the text on the screen—so clinical and straightforward, despite its meaning—and Green's shaking shoulders. He set the tablet down gingerly, as if it might explode, and then settled his hands in his lap, keeping his eyes trained on his knuckles.
Green caught his breath before leaning across the armrest with a cocky grin. Red knew all of Green's expressions and this one hadn't changed since childhood, sharp and a little wild, promising trouble in spades. Just seeing it made Red's heart rate pick up a little.
"So what do you think, Red?" he says, his voice pitched low. "Wanna join the club?"
The plane cabin's main lights were off, attempting to let the passengers get a head start on sleeping off their jet lag, but it was 10:00 AM Kanto time and both of them felt wide awake. It was odd, the way it was always odd, to be surrounded by a sea of strangers and still feel totally at ease because Green was there. Green, who was leaning into his personal space, that devilish smile still curving his lips; Green, whose hand had slid across the armrest to inch up his thigh.
Red swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Green's smile widened.
"Come on," he purred, leaning in to whisper the words against the side of Red's neck. Red jerked, feeling a flush come over his cheeks. Even though everyone around them was asleep, this was dangerous enough; but Red had never shied away from danger before, and if Green was offering, then Red wanted more. He wanted to feel Green's laugh right against his skin, wanted to feel the press of Green's lips instead of just a teasing puff of air.
Red nodded once, quickly.
Green pushed himself away and Red jumped, looking at him with wide eyes. Had he done something wrong? But no, Green was just stowing the tray table with a quiet click before he got to his feet.
"Five minutes," he said with a wink, and then he was off down the long center aisle.
Red sat stiffly in his chair, feeling the seconds drag past him slowly. He didn't know what to do with his hands, acutely aware of the spot on his neck where Green had nearly kissed him. It tingled as Red sat there alone, his eyes trained on Green's tablet screen without really seeing it. Green had dumped it into the chair before he left, and after a moment, Red reached over and turned the screen off.
Five minutes and not one second later, he got to his feet and wandered down the aisle. He was sure he was imagining all the pairs of eyes he felt on his back as he passed, but knowing that didn't help settle his nerves at all. He made it to the back of the aisle where the flight attendants usually were, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that no one was there. Maybe they were sleeping, too. Were they allowed to sleep on long flights like this?
There was only one stall that said Occupied. Red knocked softly, three quick raps and then two slow ones, a signal they'd been using since they first became friends. With a harsh click, the stall sign flicked to Vacant and opened under Red's hands.
He stumbled inside only to be immediately caught and pressed against the wall. Green's eyes were sparkling up close, already dilated, his lower lip pink from where he had been worrying it. Red leaned forward to redden it further until Green made a disjointed, breathless sound.
Green moved forward, urgency in every line of him, and Red felt his shoulder blades slide against the wall as Green pressed harder against his shoulders. He reared back to catch his breath before diving in again, fitting his body against Red's, rocking their hips together. Red gasped a little, feeling sensation jolt up his spine. Green was already hard, Red could feel the blunt shape of him where their bodies met, and Red was definitely getting there.
Five minutes had felt so long before. Now Red couldn't keep track of time at all, entirely distracted by Green's mouth on his, roving across his jawline, pressing shy and soft against each eyelid. The light in the cramped space was harsh and brilliant, ruthlessly illuminating Green's skin as the flush spread slowly down his neck. Red cradled Green's head in his hands, tugging him in closer, and he felt more than heard Green's shuddering sigh.
Red set the tempo after that, kissing him with patient focus. He took Green's fretful energy and changed it into something quiet, a low thrumming tension that grew between them. Green's hands twined into Red's hair as he nudged their hips together. Red's hands slid from Green's back to beneath the waistband of his boxers, dragging him closer, and a whine slipped from Green's mouth.
"Shh," Red murmured, the air from the noise brushing over Green's lips, made hypersensitive from all the kissing. Green shivered a little and slumped against Red, cradling his head against Red's shoulder.
Red's eye was caught by a flicker of moment. He looked up and realized that every wall of the narrow room was covered in mirrors. He saw his own face, the glazed heat in his eyes, the wet well-kissed pink of his mouth, and felt a rush of embarrassment. But then his eyes dropped to Green's body, the way his muscles stood out in his calves as he lifted slightly onto his tiptoes to match Red's greater height. His eyes roved up to where his hands disappeared into Green's jeans. He squeezed a little, to see the action reflected in the mirror, and Green tensed against him.
Green pulled back, Red's hands slipping free. Green went for Red's belt with shaking hands, cursing a little as he fumbled with it. "You left your poké balls on your belt," Green hissed, "how am I supposed to take this off without dropping them—"
Red shushed him again, reaching down. One hand flipped his buckle open and drew his pants zipper down, steadying the belt so the poké balls wouldn't fall; the other hand wound around Green's waist, giving Green limited room to work as he pulled Red free and shoved Red's jeans down around his knees. The breath left Red's lungs in a rush as he felt Green's hands wrap around him, finally.
Red watched his face in the mirror, the way his eyebrows crumpled as Green touched him, the way his mouth sagged open as his hips shifted restlessly. It felt obscene, performative in a way Red wasn't sure he liked, but he couldn't stop himself.
Then a hand gripped his jaw. His eyes flicked down to meet Green's gaze, but Red knew he'd been caught. Green's eyes roved over his face before he turned, seeing the mirror behind them. His mouth slackened with surprise before he grinned.
Green still held him, their bodies pressed tightly together. He ran his thumb over the crown, licking his lips, and Red's shoulders jumped with a shuddering gasp. The gesture was echoed in the mirror, and he could see Green watching it, taking in the picture that the two of them made together.
Green stopped for a moment to free himself, too, and the soft slick rub of their exposed skin made Red's toes curl in his sneakers. His eyes drifted closed, and he focused on the sensation, the way Green's hand moved with unhurried finesse, the chill of the air on his bared thighs, the whisper of Green's hair against the side of his face. Red was coming undone, slowly, his breaths coming harsher and faster. Green was with him too, his body shifting with restless anticipation as they both climbed higher, and then toppled over the edge one after the other.
Red wrapped his arms around Green's waist and Green sagged against him, nuzzling against his shoulder. Red was sure he didn't realize he was doing it, lost in the rush of endorphins as he was. He liked Green at his sharpest, daring glances and bright-eyed grins; but he liked Green like this too, hazy with satisfaction, doing his best grookey imitation as he clung to Red's chest.
Red reached across the narrow bathroom and plucked a napkin off the holder on the far wall. He used it to wipe them down, frowning at their flushed faces in the mirror.
"It's dark out there anyway," Green mumbled. "No one'll be able to tell what we were doing." He seemed to be waking up out of his daze, tucking himself away before he reached up to fix the angle of Red's hat. He grinned. "So. Joining the club, was it worth it?"
Red dropped the tissue in the trash can before sweeping Green up into a hug, and the squeeze he gave him was answer enough. Green laughed into his ear, warm and pleased, and hugged him back.