Ash sat on the examination table, his legs swinging nervously as he tried to distract himself. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the fluorescent lights. His mind raced with thoughts of needles, pain, and, oddly, whether Gary secretly enjoyed this. He tried to shake the thought away.

Gary wouldn’t do anything to hurt him—right?

The door opened, and Gary walked in with a small tray holding the dreaded syringe. Ash’s eyes widened as he tensed up, gripping the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Gary, ever the observant one when it came to Ash, noticed immediately. “Ashy-boy, you look like you’ve seen a Gengar.”

Ash managed a weak laugh. “I-I’m fine, Gary. Really.”

Gary set the tray down on a nearby counter and pulled up a stool to sit in front of Ash. He leaned in slightly, his expression softening. For once, there wasn’t a hint of smugness or teasing in his eyes.

“Ash, you’ve been like this since we were kids. You’re still scared of shots, huh?”

Ash looked down, embarrassed. “It’s not just the shot,” he mumbled. “It... it hurts. A lot. And my hands hurt for days after.”

Gary blinked, his teasing nature taking a backseat as he processed Ash’s words. He glanced at Ash’s hands, which were balled into fists on his lap. The tension was obvious.

“That’s why you keep clenching your hands, isn’t it?” Gary asked, his voice unusually gentle.

Ash nodded hesitantly, his face heating up with embarrassment. “It helps. But... then my hands hurt too.”

Gary sighed, running a hand through his spiky hair. He had known Ash for years, but he hadn’t realized just how much this bothered him. “Okay, listen up, Ashy-boy. I’m gonna make this as easy as possible for you. Trust me?”

Ash hesitated but eventually nodded. “Yeah, I trust you.”

Gary smiled and stood up, grabbing a tube of numbing cream from the counter. “Alright, we’ll use this first. It should help with the pain. And stop clenching your hands so tight—you’re only making it worse for yourself.”

Ash blinked in surprise. Gary wasn’t teasing him. He wasn’t calling him a baby or laughing at his fear. He was... being nice.

“Thanks, Gary,” Ash said softly, feeling a little more at ease.

Gary shrugged, though there was a faint smile on his face. “What are best friends for?”

He gently applied the numbing cream to Ash’s arm, making sure to cover the area thoroughly. “This’ll take a few minutes to kick in,” he said. “In the meantime, relax. No clenching your hands, got it?”

Ash nodded, doing his best to follow Gary’s instructions.

When the time came, Gary picked up the syringe and looked at Ash. “Okay, this is it. Deep breath, Ashy-boy. In and out, like we talked about.”

Ash closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to keep his focus on anything but the needle.

Gary moved quickly and smoothly, injecting the shot with practiced ease. “All done,” he said a moment later, pulling the needle out and covering the spot with a small bandage.

Ash opened his eyes, surprised. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Gary confirmed, grinning. “Told you it’d be quick.”

Ash flexed his hand experimentally. There was a slight ache, but it wasn’t as bad as usual. “It doesn’t hurt as much,” he admitted, looking at Gary with genuine gratitude.

Gary smirked, crossing his arms. “Of course not. I’m just that good.”

Ash rolled his eyes but smiled. “Thanks, Gary. Really.”

Gary gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. “Anytime, Ashy-boy. Now let’s get out of here before you start crying about something else.”

Ash groaned, but the teasing felt more familiar now—comforting, even. They were rivals, sure, but at the end of the day, Gary was his best friend. And today, Gary had proven just how much that meant.