Work Text:
Moon blinked awake, blearily. “Mm, are you watching me sleep? Creeper.”
Gladion frowned. “Moon, you should let me cut your hair.”
Moon shoved her face farther into the pillow, pouting. “No. Not til, not til I see Lillie again. Properly.” And fell back asleep. Gladion frowned into the darkness once more, staring at the blurry, long-haired shape of Moon. At the shadows in the room, at the curtains fluttering in the breeze. An errant slant of moonlight hits the nightstand, gleaming off of the pokeballs lying in wait.
When Moon woke him up in the morning, his fine-boned features were still contorted in displeasure. Moon flicked his cheek and went to go use the bathroom. “Get up, Gladion, Aether-League conference at eight,” she called.
She was still fixing her hair into a ponytail when Gladion stumbled into the bathroom after her. Gladion eyed her hair warily as he reached for the toothbrush Moon kept for him. “You know-“ he started, before Moon interrupted him, “No, Gladion. My hair is staying the length it is, thank you. Let it be.”
The hum of his electric toothbrush was very displeased after that. Or maybe it was just him. Moon pointedly made eye contact with him as she fastened the bow in her hair. Gladion made a face at the bow. Privately, Moon agreed with him, it was a bit much. But she was making a point here.
Moon, sweaty and resplendant in her usual post-battle glory, was leaning against the changing room locker. “Gladion, god, did you see that? Did you see that? I’ve never, ever, had such a fucking killer Double Battle, and I didn’t even use Bailey. Oh my god, Gladion-“ She continued gushing as she pulled off her knee pads, unclipped her pokebelt, and towelled off her face. It was when she reached to deal with the tangled mess of her ponytail that his arched brow became less “fondly amused” and more “I told you so”. Moon, noticing this, decided the proper course of action was to slug him hard in the shoulder. Gladion had about a foot in height advantage, but she had the muscle. It hurt. “Ow,” said Gladion, understatedly.
“Shut up!”
“You hit me!” Gladion cried.
“God, no not about that. The hair! You have better things to worry about. Go get my bag for me.” Her hand was still splayed over the spot where she slugged him, spreading damp heat through his black turtleneck. It was fine. Gladion arched a brow in a way that conveyed this discussion is not over, young lady. Moon arched a brow that said, try me, bitch. Gladion went to go get her gear bag.
That evening, Moon and Gladion sat on a hill overlooking Melemele beach. Moons hair was loose, fluttering in the breeze. She caught Gladion gazing at it.
“Gladion,” she started, meeting his eyes steadily, “I promise, the hair isn’t a big deal to me. I know it was for you and Lillie, growing up. I know that. But it really is just hair for me, I swear. It’s just doing what hair does right now. It’s growing. My choice. And when it’s the right time, you can be the one to oversee the big chop, okay? My Pyroar mane is in your hands.” She gifts him a grin like the sun. Gladion finds it far more reassuring.
“You sure you don’t mean your Solgaleo mane?” He allows.
“Nah, you’ve seen that thing. It’s allll metal. You’d have an easier time asking Mallow to order take-out from Little Slowpokes” she teases.
Gladion winces, then laughs at that admittedly accurate comparison. “Principles of iron, that woman has,” he remarks.
“I know, right? You’d almost think she specialized in the wrong type. Anyways,” Moon stands in one efficient motion, “help me up. I wanna go get a casteliacone.” Gladion ignores that Moon was the one who asked for help, and allows her to pull him into a stand.
“You know, you shouldn’t be able to do that. You’re like, half my height.”
“Ha ha, pal laugh it up. You spend, like, half the amount of time as I do even facing the same cardinal direction as a gym.”
The setting sun catches on Moon's hair, bathing the brown strands in amber fire. Gladion sees this, and keeps walking.