Chapter Text
The deep ruby liquid poured from the lip of the bottle, splashing against the base of the plastic cup Rika had procured from the cafeteria within the Pokemon Center attached to the League. Streaks of red ran down the ridged walls, showcasing impressive legs, an earthy bouquet wafting into the air. The label in Olde Kalosian, you determined the wine was probably delectable, aged, and fancy enough to be saved for a special occasion.
Instead, it had been stolen by Rika (most likely from Hassel) for some serious girl talk in your dorm room.
Extravagent, honestly.
Rika pushed one cup towards you, moving to fill her own as you took a sip.
You winced, the rich flavor rolling over your tongue, reminding you of a velvet dress of the same color, of the way the fabric bunched in fingers littered with thick steel rings, of the way he panted into your ear as he thrust inside you, your legs trembling upon his shoulders and...
Perhaps wine had been a bad choice.
“So...” Rika crossed one long leg over the other, leaning back in your desk chair to fix you with a very serious expression. “Steven Stone, eh?”
“Ugh,” You buried your face in your hands, elbows resting on your knees as you sat cross-legged on your bed. A soft purr of reassurance sounded to your right, and you peeked one eye through your fingers to see your Espeon – Orchid – blinking lazily at you. She rested her soft muzzle on your thigh, tail nudging against your back with each wag.
Rika’s voice maintained its severity, “You know, if you had told me, I could have braced you for this.”
Refusing to make eye contact, you mumbled against the heels of your palms, “I didn’t know, Rika. He was just some random guy.”
She scoffed, “You’re telling me you didn’t think to look him up? You didn’t pull up a League registry and try to recognize any features?”
“He was wearing a wig.”
“Eye color!” Rika protested, and you heard the rustle of her clothes as her hands were thrown into the air, “Smile! Chin shape! Jaw line! Stature! Nose! I’m not saying it isn’t difficult, but I’m sure you would have found something familiar!”
With a sigh, you lifted your eyes from the Pokéball patterned carpet, one hand falling to your lap and the other cradling your cheek. You looked at her crazed stare with unveiled exasperation. “I didn’t want to know.”
She frowned, “You didn’t want to know?”
“Why would I?”
Her brow creasing in confusion, she shrugged, “I don’t know. I had you pegged as the hopeless romantic type who would want to be reunited with the Prince Charming who swept her off her feet.”
“Maybe,” You remembered the way your eyes had strayed to the edge of his wig, the way you had noticed the silvery strands of natural hair beneath. In a different timeline, under different circumstances, perhaps you would have stayed, would have allowed him to speak to you before you left. But, you hadn’t for a reason. “I don’t really know what I want.”
“Okay, okay,” Rika waved her hands in surrender, “I get it. I’ll let it go.”
You nodded, sipping your wine. Damn, it really was expensive. Hopefully Hassel didn’t notice it had gone missing. Not that he stayed in the dorms here, often. They were more of a last-resort bed for the members of the League, of more use to the challengers than those with titles. You? Well, you were a different story. One that didn’t quite have a plot line, yet.
When your gaze flitted back to Rika, her smirk was barely concealed beneath the rim of her plastic cup, “So...”
You glared.
She was unfazed, “How was it?”
You had two options – change the subject and ignore her, or indulge in the little demon inside of you that begged you to share. Besides, when did anything interesting happen to you? Becoming Champion of Paldea, sure, but you became desensitized to that real fast. Something about working 24/7 sucked your soul out, banished the whole whimsy of the title.
Thus, you allowed yourself to grin, a blush spreading over your cheeks. “Hot.”
Rika’s chestnut eyes brightened instantly, as if she were a prophet, ears ringing with the voice of Arceus. She jolted forward in your desk chair, wine sloshing in her glass as she gasped, “Tell me more!”
“Um,” Oh goodness, your body was far too warm, your skin far too tight. You squirmed on the bed, Orchid protesting your movement with a whiny mewl. “Well...”
Where did you even start?
Rika had your back, questions tumbling from her lips so fast, you were concerned she’d break the sound barrier, “Did he go down on you? What’s his dick like? What does he sound like in bed? Is he into dirty talk? Any kinks? How hot is he naked?”
“Oh my gosh,” You covered your face, giddy embarrassment making you giggle. You allowed yourself to actively revisit the memories you had been suppressing for 3 months. “Let’s see, uh, yes, nice, quiet, so not really, not that I know of, and uh, we didn’t really take our clothes all the way off.”
“Partially clothed, eh?” Risa cocked a brow, “Sexy. Desperate. Into it.”
“Yeah.”
She was relentless. “Okay, fine, I’ll leave you alone, if you give me one juicy detail.”
Your cheeks were burning, your eyes falling to your lap as you giggled, “He... Ah, he ripped my stockings for access to, you know...”
Rika’s jaw hit the floor.
“Happy now?”
She beamed, manic laughter wheezing from her lips, “Oh buddy. Oh boy. Yes. Yes I am. Thank you.”
Pursing your lips, you asked, “Why do you even care?”
“Um, why wouldn’t I care about my best friend’s sexual conquest?!” She seemed appalled, “Also, I have surprisingly nothing juicy on Steven. Well, I suppose now I do. Before though... Many have made attempts to get with him. They think he’s handsome or whatever,” She rolled her eyes, “But he’s never been interested. He keeps to himself at most parties, or acts as Wallace’s shadow.”
You nodded, Steven’s stiff posture by the bar flashing through your mind. “He doesn’t like loud crowds.”
“Seems like he does with enough alcohol.” She countered, sipping at her wine, “It’s strange, though. The press loves him. He’s Hoenn’s Golden Boy. Great in interviews. Loves meeting new people. He should thrive in a social setting.”
You lifted your shoulders to your ears, your train of thought hitting too close to home, your fingers stroking Orchid’s soft fur to ground yourself. “There are a lot of expectations at parties. Maybe he gets uncomfortable.”
Rika considered this, tossing the statement around in her head until she decided that it was acceptable. Then she smirked, “Regardless, looks like the anonymity of the masquerade helped you both, then. Good. You needed some stress relief, and I can only imagine how grateful Steven was.”
You huffed, drowning your annoyance with your cup of wine. Had it been great? Yes. Had it helped you rid yourself of the building tension you had accumulated since becoming Champion? Definitely. Were you done humoring your best friend, reluctant to second guess your decision to keep it a one-night thing any further? One hundred percent.
Rika seemed to get the message, spending the rest of the bottle of wine discussing upcoming League meetings and sharing amusing PokéTube videos. You found yourself laughing until your gut clenched in protest, the clip of the Tandemaus charging a massive Copperajah on repeat while you both tried to catch your breath.
As she bid you goodnight, she paused in the doorway, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Hey.”
“Yeah?” You looked up from where you were spooning Orchid on your bed.
“Do you think he was upset?” Rika asked, “When you weren’t there in the morning?”
Your stomach twisted, your heart clenching. You wanted to tell her no, of course not. That had been the nature of the night, after all. The only reason you had done something so bold was due to a lack of identity on either side. He had felt the same, right?
...Right?
“I don’t know,” was your mumbled response, escaping further conversation by burying your face in Orchid’s soft, lilac fur. Her frame vibrated with content purrs.
Rika’s hum of acknowledgement disappeared as the door clicked into place, leaving you alone with your swimming thoughts and your Espeon. She squirmed away from your hold then, stretching out across the small, twin-sized bed. You couldn’t blame her. It got awful warm in the dorm rooms, probably due to the lack of decent air conditioning.
As if the League would invest in quality dorms. You chuckled to yourself as you let your eyes sweep over the room. A small rectangle, housing a desk with a calendar and corkboard, various notes pinned upon the surface. A tiny bed with generic red sheets to match the patterned carpet. Curtains of the same fabric over the square window positioned to shine sunlight directly onto your face when you woke each morning.
It was far from a luxurious suite, as one would expect of the Champion of Paldea.
Hell, there wasn’t even a bathroom. No, you had to use the communal showers and washrooms down the hall. You were pretty sure your Academy dorm was better equipped than this.
With a sigh, you hauled yourself off the bed, shaking out the legs of your sweatpants and slipping a baggy cardigan over your oversized sleep tee. Snagging the little plastic caddy with your skin care supplies and toothbrush, you stepped into your fuzzy Swablu slippers and slid out of your room.
You weren’t surprised that the bathroom was empty. You were really the only inhabitant of this wing of the League dorms, anyway. The right side of the housing building was meant for challengers checking in after trekking all the way to take on the Elite 4 and Champion. They would be met with the Pokémon League – A massive structure containing a Pokémon Center and Mart, a cafeteria, lounge/waiting rooms, and the gauntlet of stadiums were the magic happened. Behind that laid the dorms, built for convenience, considering that it was not unusual for hoards of those wishing to battle the Champion to arrive all at once. Rooms were assigned to eager trainers, battles scheduled in the future, leaving them with, at times, days to kill.
The left side of the dorms, however, were meant as temporary crash pads for the League members, as well as esteemed visitors. They were not meant as permanent living spaces, as they lacked privacy, space, and personal flair. Most League members had homes around the region, commuting to work on slower days and staying in the dorms when the battles ran late.
You were not most League members.
Having taken the championship 4 months ago, your life had been uprooted, tossed into chaos. And really, you shouldn’t have been surprised. You had grown up in Mesagozza, Paldea, a normal kid with a normal life. Your mother had run a Delibird Presents. You had enrolled in the Academy at the age of 18, when your mother had remarried and acquired a helping hand for the store in the form of your step-father. You had graduated after the average 4 years with flying colors, and had spent two whole years training in the wilderness of Paldea until you took on the Pokemon League. If you were being honest, you probably could have taken the Championship straight out of school, but you knew that you would be diving headfirst into responsibility, and well, you had fucked around and procrastinated for a while.
Sure enough, you went from having a hell of a lot of free time to none whatsoever.
Thus, you were stuck in the dorms. All the time.
What were you going to do? Stay at your mom’s? Yeah, it wasn’t unheard of for many young adults, but the Champion of Paldea? How embarrassing.
As you brushed your teeth, staring at your exhausted expression in the bathroom mirror, you tried to think of where you would like to live. Somewhere quiet? That would certainly help with your sleep. Though, quality of sleep wasn’t the issue. No, it was the constant flow of challengers keeping you in the stadium long after sunset, and then you had paperwork to fill out and meetings to arrange. You could handle somewhere well populated for sure, but would you want to?
There was a hazy image in the back of your mind. A small brick house, covered in ivy. Large windows with shutters to block out the midnight chill. Decorative china and novelty placemats. A hand offering to dry the dishes.
Your heart ached, and you shoved the fantasy away, the picture fading with each swish of sudsy bristles over your teeth. You spat out the toothpaste, turning on the tap to wash your face. No amount of moisturizer could bring your sunken skin back to life.
Wincing to yourself, you decided that the moment things slowed down, your title secured and safe, then you would start researching the housing market. You couldn’t stay in the dorms forever. You were already using Rika’s apartment in Zapapico for laundry, and it was becoming clear to the public that you were reusing a lot of clothes.
Your face was all over the television, the first month bringing constant reports of your progress as the new Champion of Paldea. You had been warned by Geeta the moment she had entered your Pokémon into the Hall of Fame – The region was bound to doubt your strength, was bound to offer incentives to anyone who could take you down. Journalists were at all your matches, video streams of each battle broadcasting in every home.
Any wear or tear that showed on your face would be picked apart by anyone paying attention, and the idea of you not at your best would simply send more challengers through the League gates. You knew you needed to get your shit together.
Just yesterday, Rika had hinted that it was time for you to go shopping, treat yourself to a spa day. When? You weren’t sure. You were booked solid for days in advance, and you didn’t think that would change anytime soon.
With a quiet huff of defeat, your shoulders slumping as you held back that telltale pressure behind your eyes, you turned away from your pitiful reflection. Now was not the time for a mental breakdown. You had an hour break between opponents tomorrow, if you managed to win quickly. Maybe you could pencil in a solid cry.
Clapping your palms against your cheeks, telling yourself to hold on just a little longer, you shuffled out of the bathroom, your bed singing to you from down the hall.
You were 5 paces closer to your mattress when a shadow appeared in your line of sight.
You stilled, your heart pounding as you realized that there was a visitor staying in the dorms with you. The familiar silhouette paused, mirroring your surprise. Then, he picked up his pace, walking down the hall with a purpose.
Steven Stone approached you, recognition flashing in his steel-blue eyes and a kind smile curling his lips, inviting you to conversation.
You grimaced in return, taking stock of your baggy, comfy, definitely-stained-with-food lounge wear, your plastic caddy, your fluffy slippers. Unfortunately, it appeared that the door to your room was located past him now. Shit.
Ducking your head, you made to step by him swiftly, but, of course, that wasn’t going to fly for such a personable, polite man.
“Good evening,” His voice was clear, an undercurrent of amusement beneath the words, like he was fully aware you were trying to escape him.
“Er, hey,” The string of obscenities that flew through your mind when you paused to take a good look at him was overwhelming.
How he managed to make Aron slippers, navy sweatpants, and a plain white tee look good enough to wear out, you weren’t sure. A colorful gem hung from a black thread around his neck, resting in the divot of his clavicle. His hair looked a little mussed and unkempt, like he had been lying down before leaving his dorm, and still, he looked like he could pose for a magazine specializing in leisure wear.
You didn’t even know what to say. What were you supposed to say? Should you acknowledge that his dick had been inside you or...?
Oh no, now your face was heating up, a foggy memory of said beautiful member flashing in your mind. Shit. Fuck. Motherfucker.
Just be normal!
A metallic hum saved you from having to say anything, a bright red eye peering at you curiously. You blinked in surprise as a blue... robot (?) hovered to Steven’s side, its strange cylindrical body gleaming in the low light of the hall.
“Ah, Beldum wants to say hi,” Steven chuckled, gesturing to the iron Pokémon. Noticing your perplexed expression he added, “Oh, the Metagross evolution line is not native to Paldea, is it?”
You shook your head slowly, “What is it?”
“What are any Pokémon?” He smirked, “Beldum here is the Iron Ball Pokémon. It’s a steel and psychic dual-type. It is quite powerful, but usually too timid to demonstrate such strength.” He patted the little metal beast, an affectionate glimmer in his eyes. “I’m surprised it wished to greet you.”
Fascinated, you crouched down to peer into the Beldum’s eye, listening to the little whirring sounds it made, like robotic chirps. You spoke softly, lifting your hand in a small wave, “Hi there, little buddy. Nice to meet you.”
When you glanced back up at Steven, your heart lurched. He was watching you interact with his Pokémon with such a gentle expression, one so warm despite the cool shade of his irises. He lifted his hand to his chin, tilting his head as he hummed, “I’m sure you two will get to know each other well.”
He must have understood the intrigue in your gaze as you creased your brow, frowning as you tried to make sense of his words. He laughed sheepishly, “Ah, well, I was hoping to ask you for some assistance, actually.”
You straightened up, your grip on your caddy tightening. “Uh, the bathroom is down the hall.”
“That’s not...” He pursed his lips, “Actually, yes, I did need that information. Thank you.”
“If that’s all...” You shot him a strained smile, avoiding direct eye contact. Sidestepping past the Beldum, you scurried towards your door, eager to disappear out of sight.
“Oh, my apologies,” Steven’s voice stopped you in your tracks, and you glanced over your shoulder to see him watching you with a thoughtful gaze, “I was looking to request your assistance for something a little more complicated.”
When he was certain you were listening, he declared, “I’d like you to accompany me into the Great Crater of Paldea.”
Your heart stopped. Your stomach somersaulted. You were positive your partially digested dinner was about to end up on the floor.
“The Great Crater of Paldea is off limits to everyone,” Your voice was only slightly louder than a whisper.
“Even a Champion?” There was a quiet mischief in his eyes.
“Especially a tourist.”
“I do not mean to put any pressure on you,” Steven’s hand found its way to his chin once more, “But who would be safer in the crater than two Champions?”
“Three,” You deadpanned.
“We could ask the former Champion to join,” He countered, his sincerity near painful.
“Steven,” His name felt heavy on your tongue, “Why?”
“I...” He dipped his head, steely eyes falling to the floor. When he met your gaze, a quiet fire burned in the depths, “It’s important to me. Please, can I count on you?”
You sighed, muttered under your breath, “Why me?”
Alas, he heard you, flashing a charming grin, “We’re just the strongest there is, right now.”
There was no argument to be made. It was an objectively true statement, as two regional Champions, who had made it through the gauntlet of the League undefeated. Perhaps one day, they would be replaced, would be in the almost-but-not-quite category, but as of this moment? He was right.
You steeled your resolve, rolling your shoulders and straightening your spine. You looked him dead in those dazzling crystalline eyes, and declared, “Okay.”
“Okay?” Steven looked about ready to jump for joy.
“Yeah,” You felt your soul shudder within the confines of your skin, “I’ll talk to Director Clavell, of the Academy. We’ll arrange an expedition.”