It was a busy day in the office, desks full of paperwork, and busy bodies running around. It was almost as if this was a newspaper firm or something because all you're doing is typing and writing and sending, and god, were you getting tired of this job. I should really retire soon and have a normal life. I work to kill bioweapons and here I am writing dumb reports and essays. "[Name], hey, someone is down at the lobby asking for you," one of your coworkers said as they walked past you. You looked up and nodded, standing up from your chair, and stretching. 

"Alright, I will take this chance to have a break then," you muttered as you walked towards the elevator. Once you made it to the lobby, you walked up to Kira, who was the receptionist. "Who's asking for me?" you asked and she pointed behind you. You turned around and you blinked, meeting familiar blue eyes. 

"Are you that blind that you couldn't see me near the desk or?" he teased. You chuckled and ran a hand through your hair. 

"Ah, sorry, Leon. I've been so busy lately that I can't really comprehend anything right now." 

"Ah, I see. So, you haven't been ignoring me on purpose then?" Your eyes widened and you let out a small laugh. "If it was on purpose, I'm hurt." The blonde smirked and you rolled your eyes. 

"Gosh, don't tell me you missed me that much," you joked. 

"I did miss you," he answered and you stopped smiling to look at him in surprise. "I tried to contact you multiple times for three weeks and you never responded. I was worried you disappeared." He scratched the back of his head and then cleared his throat. "I thought you didn't want to have anything to do with me anymore." Your chest began to ache and you clenched your clammy hands to your sides.

"No, I just been really busy. I wasn't trying to ignore you. I--How about we go talk somewhere else?" You suggested. Leon opened his mouth and then closed it again, a guilty smile appearing on his lips. 

"Ah, I actually have a date to get to," he answered. You could feel your heart shatter. You immediately brought up a smile and nodded. 

"O-oh, okay! Yeah, go on and head to your date! I still have work that needs to be done." Leon snorted and you barely heard what he had said, only noticing the feeling of your heart falling down to your stomach at the thought of Leon with another woman. 

"Why do you look like you're going to cry?" Leon's question snaps you out of your daze and you look up at him, realizing that his figure is blurry. You try to blink the tears away, but some manage to escape, and you let out a sigh. "What's wrong?" Leon immediately comes closer to look at your face and you swat his hands away. Oh god, how embarrassing! 

"It's nothing. I got to get back to work, so I'll see you later," you turn around, but Leon grabs a hold of your shirt, pulling you back. You swiveled around and locked eyes with Leon, a couple of tears already sliding down your cheeks. “Leon, I just have allergies—“ you started but then exhaled as your chest began to ache. 

“. . .I’ll ditch the date. How about we go hang out?” Leon suggested. You blinked and brought a hand to wipe away the tears on your cheeks. 

“Leon—I. . .no, it’s alright. I’m okay, I promise,” you assured. He still hadn’t let go of your shirt and you promptly bit the inside of your cheek. You were beginning to feel nervous. If he knew you began to cry because you couldn’t bear the thought of him with another woman, you’d probably die from embarrassment. 

“Alright.” He let go of your shirt and nodded to himself. Disappointment swept into your heart and you hoped he didn’t see the bitterness on your face. God, why should I be disappointed?? I’m the one who said I was okay!!! “As if I’d believe you,” he scoffed. This time, he grabbed your hand, and intertwined them together. “We are going out.” You watched his back in awe as he pulled you out of your workplace and onto the sidewalk. 

“Wait—“

”No objections. We are going,” he looked over his shoulder and gave you a small smile. 

“Okay, but, I have work—“

”Work can wait. I’m sure they can manage without you.” Skipping work wasn’t supposed to happen, but maybe a break wouldn’t be so bad. 

——-

“So, we are at the lake. . .fishing?” You questioned. Leon nodded and handed you a green rod with a blue spinning reel. You looked down at your suit and heels and then at the lake. You weren’t really dressed appropriate for fishing, but it was a great thing it was cloudy today. 

“We sure are. Fishing is always fun!” Leon chirped and began to instruct you on how to cast. You nodded along and did exactly as he said, but it took a couple of tries. Once you managed to make a decent cast, you grinned. “Great cast,” he proudly crossed his arms and you could feel your chest warm.

"Thanks, but what are we fishing for?" you asked, looking at your fishing line and reeling in slowly. 

"Fishing for baby bass," he answered. You noticed your slack line became straight and on instinct, you pulled your rod to the side and reeled fast; only for the fish to come flying on to the ground behind you. 

"Holy shit!" you cried, and reeled the fish back, "I am so sorry, little fish!" You quickly tried your best to hold the small bass by its lips, but it kept squirming on the ground. In the background, you could hear Leon's maniac laughing and you huffed, glaring at him over your shoulder. 

"I'm sorry---I just," he cackled, holding his torso, "that was the best hook set I have ever seen!" 

Eventually, Leon helped you and you even took a picture with the poor fish. It was definitely a fun time and it even took your mind off of work. Spending time with Leon was always fun, you smiled as you looked over at him. Now, the both of you were in his car, on the way to your home. It was quiet in the car and the atmosphere was relaxed. "Thanks, Leon. For taking me out," you said, nodding at him. Then, it dawned on you and your eyes turned wide. "Leon! Your date!" Leon merely shrugged his shoulders and you bit your lip, brows furrowed. "I feel so bad," you whispered to yourself. Being stood up is not a great feeling and you began to think about the woman that was probably heart broken right now.

"Actually, I lied about the date." It was quiet for a moment and your heart thumped. "I only said that to see your reaction, and I did not expect for you to cry." You could hear your heart beating out of your ears and everything seemed to pass by in slow motion. 

He knew. 

He definitely knew. 

"I know that you like me." You could only stare at him, hands on your laps, and mouth shut. His eyes stayed on the road ahead of him. 

“Leon, listen to me,” you plead, gripping onto his sleeves. His tailcoat is soaked through, the burgundy of it as dark as blood. “Please let me explain.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Leon spits. “You said everything you needed to.”

He jerks his arm back, but your fingernails clutch into the cloth. You’ll risk tearing the seam, you’ll risk digging into his skin, if that’s the only way he’ll listen.

“All I meant was that if all you do is work,” you say in exasperation. “You’ll risk losing the people closest to you!”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time,” Leon spits. “And the time after that, and the time after that, and the time after that.”

“At least I’m telling you!” you say in return. You wish you didn’t have to raise your voice and add to the chaos around you, but the howling of the wind requires that you yell in order to be heard. “At least I care about you enough to warn you!”

“I’ve been doing fine on my own,” Leon says, and he rips your fingers from his sleeve. “I don’t need you meddling in my life!”

“What about Raihan?” you ask, and you grip his wrist when he tries to turn again. “What about your mum? What about Hop? Ever since you lost the Championship you’ve been avoiding everyone!”

“And everyone is respecting me enough to leave me alone when I ask,” Leon says. He shoves your hand off again, but he’s finally turned towards you. Dark strands of hair are plastered across his face, but his eyes are as hot and blazing as golden fire. “Why are you so persistent?”

“Because I care about you,” you say, and you step closer so he can hear you over the rain. “Arceus, Leon, you’re my best friend, and I don’t want to lose you. You keep running away from everyone, but I know you need support too.”

“Rubbish,” Leon spits, but he’s still not turning away. “You just feel sorry for me. First, you wanted my fame, then when I didn’t have it, you are still for some reason chasing after me. I don’t have anything to offer you.”

You tear your hands through your hair in exasperation and whip off the rain from your fingers. Thunder cracks again, sharp and hot white and barely a mile away. The rain is still driving into the pavement, driving into your skin, as you stare at Leon in desperation.

“I don’t want anything from you! I’m doing this and telling these things for you, Leon!” you huff. “I want to help, I want to be with you throughout this transition!”

Another crack of thunder, another flash of lighting. It shocks everything white, breaks the contrast around you like an overexposed photo. Even with the ethereal light for what wasn’t even a second, Leon is still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“Why?” Leon asks. “Why? Why am I so important to you?”

Your hands are shaking in panic, desperation, fear, cold, at the risk of losing the man standing before you.

“I already said!” you yell. “You’re my best mate and I care about you!”

“Is that really all it is?” Leon asks.

“Yes!” you yell in return. “Why wouldn’t I want the best for you? Why wouldn’t I want you to have good relationships with your friends and your family? Why would I want you to work yourself to the bone?”

His brow is furrowed, his head backlit as another bolt of lightning flashes.

“You work and you work and you work, Leon, you always have! I can’t let the man I love just wither away and lose everyone close to him. You finally have a chance to start over and I don’t want you to make the same mistakes you have in the past!”

There isn’t another crack of thunder, there’s no sudden howling of the wind, but for some reason, something in Leon’s eyes shift. It’s like they break, crack, melt into something soft even with the harsh rain splattering around you. And, even over the chaos and whirling of the storm, you somehow catch the words he breathes next.

“You’re… you’re in love with me?”

Your heart stops.

Your breathing stops.

Everything around you stops for a single second. That single second feels like an eternity as you realize what you just confessed. You open your mouth, close it, but as the storm tears the earth raw, your heart is now beating heavy on the pavement.

“I… I didn’t mean to say that,” you stutter. It’s Leon’s turn to reach towards you, and he grips your wrist when you back away.

“But you are?” he asks. “You’re in love with me?”

Your eyes scan his face, then your voice cracks like the thunder.

“Yes.”

The rain splutters against the pavement, thunder rumbles around you, and the tears well hot in your eyes.

“Yes,” you say. “I’m in love with you, Leon.”

The chaos of the storm is nothing compared to the pounding thump of your heart as Leon’s hand grips tighter around your wrist. He’s calculating it seems, though it’s much too slowly compared to how quickly the rain drives into the ground, how it pricks into your skin.

“I-I’m sorry,” you manage out as the tears steam down your face. “I shouldn’t have sai-”

As quickly as the next bolt of lightning strikes, Leon closes the space between you. You cling to him in shock as he leans in, cups your face, and captures your lips in a kiss. It’s wet and it’s quick, much like the rain around you, and Leon pulls back only a moment later.

“I love you too,” Leon says.

Your response is interrupted by another wet kiss as the storm rumbles around you. It seems your argument has melted and dribbled into the cracks between the cobblestone, because Leon is no longer running from you, but rather holding you as close as he can. You are clutching at his sleeves again, though.

“You’re not mad anymore?” you manage out between kisses. Leon barely shakes his head, too preoccupied by your lips.

“You’re the only one who cares enough to chase me down in a thunderstorm,” Leon says. He breathes out a chuckle, warm against your lips.

“Maybe we should find some shelter,” you say. Leon kisses you again.

“I think it’s letting up,” he whispers against your lips, but the next crack of thunder quickly proves otherwise.

“You know the one who does all of those risque photoshoots with Pokemon and gym leaders in Sinnoh but recently they’ve been expanding to other regions to try and get suggestive photos of all the leaders and people in the league and stuff?”

“I… I guess?”

“Well she keeps contacting my agent and won’t take no for an answer but I don’t want to do any suggestive photos for her rubbish magazine because I’ve got a good reputation of being family friendly and I don’t want Hop or my mum to see me in pictures like that but she somehow got my number and keeps calling and leaving weird voicemails and I think she actually wants me beyond like just for photoshoots and stuff but I don’t want to talk to her and I don’t know how to get her to stop.”

You blinked a few times. You opened your mouth, closed it, opened it again, and when it seemed Leon had finished his explanation, you motioned for him to sit on the couch. He sat beside you, but his wide eyes were still searching yours, as if by staring hard enough, the strange and uncomfortable Sinnoh editor-in-chief designer lady would stop propositioning him.

“What can I do?” you asked, since that’s all you could think of to ask at the time.

And that is what led you to where you are now: holding hands with Leon in downtown Wyndon. You’re not sure why something is pulling in your stomach as he bumps shoulders with you - you’ve bumped shoulders before. You’ve walked closely before. You’ve never held hands before, though, and it seems your body doesn’t know how to respond.

He had mentioned that Sinnoh designer would leave him alone if he were dating someone, you asked who he’d even want to date, he said he didn’t know, so you, being the good friend you are, had offered your services. Leon had perked right back up - no one would suspect a thing! You’re together all the time anyway, and if Leon were romantically involved with someone, perhaps that lady would back off.

It was working, so far, and it only took one post on his social media with him kissing your cheek for her risque voicemails to stop.

It also meant, however, that a blast of texts, calls, and comments from his family, friends, and Rose himself started pouring in.

You and Leon had explained yourselves well enough to everyone, and it mostly took a few sentences of clarification. It seemed everyone was already aware of the Sinnoh designer, and after getting your insurance that it was all just pretend and you’d ‘break up’ soon anyway, everyone went happily on their way. There were a few bumps in the road (particularly when you both told Sonia and Raihan), since they both glanced at each other, raised an eyebrow, then for some reason Leon couldn’t stop stuttering. 

“Maybe we could get lunch,” Leon offers, and you nod vigorously. “At a public place, so everyone sees.”

“Good idea,” you say, and you begin scanning the shopfronts. Leon is already pulling you along somewhere, and before you know it, you’re stepping into your favorite restaurant. How did he know that? Perhaps just because you’re best mates.

You pick a booth that’s public enough, yet private enough, and Leon doesn’t bother looking at the menu. He mentions you should share your meal since that’s a thing that couples do, and you agree. He mentions he should feed you a bite, and after a bit of blushing on your end, you let him. It makes you squirm, how he stares into your eyes, how he rests his cheek on his fist when he holds the fork out to you. He’s definitely a good actor - anyone passing by would probably say he’s even in love with you.

That’d be silly though, since this is all just a favor, just pretend.

He tries to pay, you insist you pay, and you bicker while the waitress awkwardly waits for you both to decide. Leon insists that since it was his idea for a date, he gets to pay. You pout for a moment and let him, just like a partner would. While he chats with the waitress, you wonder why your heart flutters at the word ‘date,’ and why you can’t get that image of Leon’s eyes out of your brain.

After being out in public enough, you and Leon head back to your apartment. He’s holding your hand again, though instead of loosely tangled fingers, your hand is secure in his, and he even rubs his thumb over yours.

You wonder why you like that motion so much.

When you make it to your apartment you flop onto your couch. Leon is chatting with you again, just as you normally would as friends since you’re not in public, but you can’t get an itch out of your mind. If that designer comes back, she might want more ‘proof’... You bite your lip anxiously.

“What’s up?” Leon asks. Why are you now so much more aware of the color of his eyes? “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter. “It’s… it’s nothing, it’s stupid.”

“C’mon,” he teases. “We’re dating now, you can tell your boyfriend anything. Well, I mean you could tell me anything before too, but even more so now.”

You wring your hands together. It’s a stupid request, much too embarrassing, too. Leon pokes and he prods, until you swat his hand away.

“Okay,” you huff. “I was just…. Thinking…. We should practice… you know…”

Leon raises an eyebrow.

“...kissing.”

Leon raises both eyebrows.

“J-just so it looks natural if we have to in public!” you splutter. “I don’t think people would buy it if you were the type of guy to only kiss in private, s-so I was just… thinking…”

Leon is still staring.

“We don’t have to!” you blurt again. His silent shock is making your heart thump - augh, you knew you shouldn’t have said anything. Nonetheless, you try to save yourself from the hole you’re digging. “I just thought if that designer lady comes back she wouldn’t believe we were dating until we kissed in public at some point! But we can’t make it look like an awkward first kiss!”

Leon is frozen in place, staring at you, and you bite your lip when he finally breathes a response.

“Yeah,” he whispers. He seems a little dazed, for some reason. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

“Okay,” you say. “Okay, yeah… so… um.”

“Right, right,” Leon says as he shakes his head into focus. He adjusts how he’s sitting on the couch, you stand, then straddle his hips. You settle yourself into his lap, and Leon’s eyebrows raise again. You quickly jerk back.

“I-I, sorry!” you stutter. “You just, you moved so I… I um…”

“No, no this is fine!” Leon blurts in return. When you motion to slide off his lap he quickly grabs your hips to pull you back. “This is fine, it’s more realistic.”

“Yeah,” you say. His hands are resting on your hips, though it seems he’s not sure where to put them. He trails to your thighs, just for his fingers to twitch, and he curves around your hips again. “Yeah that’s true.”

“So, um,” Leon whispers. His brow is furrowed as he scans your face, and he’s still trying to figure out where to put his hands.

“Right,” you say. “Let’s… yeah, okay.”

Your conversation isn’t much of a conversation anymore, but rather awkward and embarrassed half-statements as you both adjust to you being on his lap. He’s finally settled his hands, and you lean in and inch. He leans in an inch, you lean in an inch, until you’re both a nose bump away. The tension in the air forces an awkward smile out of you, and the sight of your smile draws out a breathy laugh from Leon too.

“Okay,” you whisper. “So…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leon breathes. “I’ll just…”

“Right,” you whisper, again unimpressed by this lack-of-conversation.

Leon’s eyes flick to yours, then down to your lips, and he leans in another inch. He gently presses his lips against yours, soft and sweet, and pulls back. It was a simple kiss, something small, closed-mouth and devoid of any heat, and yet it makes you giggle again. You can’t hide your awkward laugh, so you thunk your head onto Leon’s shoulder.

“What?” Leon asks, but now he’s laughing too because of how you can’t hide your embarrassment. “Was it bad?”

“No!” you say into his shirt. “It was weird! Kissing you is weird!”

“Weird how?” Leon retorts. “I’m a good kisser!”

“I don’t know,” you laugh again, and your groan is muffled by his shirt. “It was just weird.”

“Do you not want to practice again then?”

“Well no,” you mumble. “We still should because I can’t giggle like mad if we have to kiss in public.”

“Get it together,” Leon says, though his laugh is rumbling through you. He pulls your head off his shoulder and squishes your cheeks. “We can do this.”

“Yemphswecan,” you say with a serious nod, and Leon snorts. He pushes you off his lap and you slump to the couch like you were a bundle of laundry, and Leon crawls over to you. He’s laughing just as much as you are, and now his hair is draping over you as he threatens to squish your cheeks again. “Okay okay, I’m done, come kiss me.”

You’re not sure why your request shifts something in the air, but Leon’s giddy grin shifts into something softer, thoughtful almost, but definitely still bashful. Your eyes zigzag over his face, at how the corners of his mouth twitch, as if he’s still deciding on what this position means to him. 

He cups your face this time, leans in again, and still pauses. There’s less giggling, none at all, actually, as your eyes stay trained on his lips.

You’re not sure why he so gently brushes his thumb over your cheek, or why it blooms something deep in your stomach.

He kisses you again, a little longer this time, enough for you both to figure out how to move your lips in tandem. Soft sounds waft when he kisses you again, then again after that, as he adjusts himself on top of you. He’s pressing his chest against yours, and his weight is strangely soothing, though you can’t focus on it much when Leon opens his mouth just a sliver, just enough of an invitation for you to do the same.

Your single, chaste, closed-mouth kiss is shifting, growing longer and warmer as each second passes. Leon is curling closer, shifting his other hand to your waist, curving it under your back. You adjust slowly, arch your back to give his hand room between you and the couch cushion beneath you, and Leon almost melts against you. 

You’re not sure how long you’ve been practicing, but it’s gotten to the point where it’s hard to breathe. Leon is strangely in-sync with you, and you break off at the same time.

“A little longer?” he breathes, and you nod.

His next kiss is harder, tinged with heat, and you try to match it. His tongue slides across your bottom lip, and a squeak of shock slips out of your throat. Your cheeks are heating up, as is the rest of your body, when Leon starts kissing you harder, faster, and a little more desperately. You practice and you practice and you practice, long enough to where you’re both breathing hard, long enough to know exactly how to kiss Leon in a way that makes a moan slip.

He moves to your cheek, to your jaw, to your throat, kissing and sucking in a way that makes your heart pound. It isn’t until you let out a sigh, furrow your brow, and whisper his name, that he pauses.

“Leon,” you breathe.

He freezes, and after a second, he lifts his head to meet your gaze. His cheeks are flushed, his pupils dilated, then his expression melts into something bashful. He quickly crawls off of you and you both sit up, trying to discreetly catch your breath, but neither of you do a good job of hiding how dazed you are.

“Sorry,” Leon says as he breathes out a laugh. “I… uh… might’ve gotten carried away there at the end.”

“Yeah, yeah that’s okay. But did we… did we just…” you whisper. “...snog?”

“I think so,” Leon replies.

“We probably could again,” you whisper. “Just to be sure we’re good at it.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Leon whispers in return. “Just in case that Sinnoh lady gets suspicious.”

“Definitely.”

You.

Wet. Dripping. Panting.

Your eyes, your smile, your body.

Here with him.

What if you were? 

He could trail his hands down your body, press you against the shower tiles, corner you between the wall and the translucent partition, then he could kiss and nip and suck everything about you. 

All the while wet, dripping, panting.

What if you whispered his name? 

What if he kissed you, soft and slow, what if you trembled at his touch? What if he could feel your lips, pressed against his, between his, feel your breath on his skin. He could start at your lips, then trail down. He could drag his lips down your neck, your throat, your collarbone, bare like that. What if you raised your hands over his shoulders, what if he trailed his fingers down your sides? What if he made you shiver, even with the hot water of the showerhead running over you?

Leon slams his knee into a bench, then jolts himself out of his fantasy with a hiss.

Immediately his face flares red with shame at how easily those lewd thoughts of you took over his mind. In a place as public as the public Wyndon Stadium showers… That was not a good risk to take. He tosses his gym bag onto the bench, then his hat, and he runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. He takes a quick glance around.

There’s no one here, and it’s so after hours that even the cleaning crew has gone home.

…It’s late. And he’s alone. Maybe he could just…

No. No. Not in a public shower, at his job no less, what if someone came in?

He thought he was getting better at this, of shoving away those thoughts of you. 

And you didn’t even know. 

It took a lot for him crush on someone, and yet you waltzed right in like it was your job to make him a stuttering mess. And how you would tease him. No one else had the gall besides his close friends, and yet, you seemed to get away with it every time. Leon was usually quick with banter himself, but the second he met you, you immediately one-upped him, then one-thousand-upped him, and successfully ran him over with your wit and your charm.

Leon sighed, peeled off his sweaty shirt that clung to his body and flung it onto the bench. Maybe a shower would help clear his mind, though his mind seemed awfully fond of the idea of showering with you.

Alright, maybe he could think about Pokemon or something, consider tactics for his training match tomorrow.

You were training earlier.

You had that fire in your eyes, that wild and unabashed smile, that passion that oozed from every pore. He vividly remembers how your chest rose with each breath, how your pupils dilated with adrenaline, how you rushed up to him after your battle to immediately get his advice. Leon shakes his head to the present again.

Stop stop stop stop Leon, think about something else. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth.

Yeesh.

He doesn’t even talk with you that often, maybe a couple times a week when your schedules align at the gym. He always makes a beeline right to you, only to make it there and realize he has nothing to say. You always say something though, something clever, and he usually laughs and usually thinks of something in return (never as quickly as he would want, though). He always hovers on the edge of caution in his words, though, so he’s sure you don’t know about his little crush on you.

Leon gathers his towel, soap, and shampoo, and heads to the showerhead at the end. Normally he has his private shower and dressing room, but that exhibition match with Raihan left it in dire need of maintenance (along with a few other rooms in Wyndon Stadium), so here he was, using the public ones. It’s late enough, though, so hopefully no one comes in. His staff isn’t starstruck like most fans, but the last thing he wants is an awkward conversation in the gym showers so late at night. 

Leon grimaces when he steps into the shower stall. It’s not even a stall, but rather a group shower with flimsy, translucent partitions between showerheads. The partition barely goes up to his shoulders, and only down to his knees. He wonders who he can talk to about the sheer lack of privacy these things provide - really it’s almost a joke, like a smug wink to whoever gets to be on the other side. He reaches his hand over it, waves, and can easily count all of his fingers, though they’re blurry. 

He doesn’t give the partitions much thought beyond that, as the shower knob creaks when he turns the water on. It splutters, then runs over him in a steady stream, trailing down his face, neck, chest, all the while collecting the bits of sweat, grime, and dirt from his intense training. Leon lets the water run over him for a few minutes as the steam swirls in his lungs, cleansing him from the inside out. He vaguely wonders what you’re up to at this hour. Probably sleeping.

There’s a rustle, the clang of a locker, and Leon groans inwardly. This is exactly what he didn’t want to happen: forced small talk while being butt-naked. Bathroom etiquette suggests that he doesn’t even make eye-contact, so hopefully whoever just came in follows those unspoken rules too.

“Hey, Leon!”

Leon’s eyes snap open and his blood goes cold.

Oh.

Oh no.

Please.

“Training late tonight too, huh?”

Dear Arceus, please, let this be a dream. Or maybe he’s dead, that’d be even better.

The seconds tick by, but the rustling of clothes doesn’t stop. When he accepts that those sounds aren’t in his imagination, he slowly turns his head.

And his stomach drops, because there you are, sweating, smiling, shining, and you give him a wave.

“I didn’t think anyone else would be in here,” you say. Leon forces a smile.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. He coughs, then clears his throat. “Yeah me either.”

And then, you ask exactly what he wishes you wouldn't ask.

“Mind if I join you?” you ask with a good-natured smile.

Flashes of his fantasies erupt in his brain.

You, asking that same question.

You, biting your lip seductively.

You, trailing your fingers up his stomach.

You, looking him in the eyes with your own hooded and hungry gaze.

Leon lets out a squeak.

“S-sure,” he says as he clears his throat to ensure his voice sounds much manlier than squeaking. “Group showers, couldn’t deny that even if I wanted to.”

“Would you want to?” you tease.

Leon swallows another squeak, and instead lets out a breathy laugh. There you go again, with your relentless teasing. How is he supposed to answer? Yes? No? Maybe? What would be charming and make him look like not a huge pervert? He’s faltering in a response, but you don’t seem to mind. The second he finds one, he looks back over to you, only to choke on his spit.

You’ve already pulled off your pants and folded them on the bench and are in the process of pulling your shirt up over your head. Leon’s eyes zigzag over your frame, unconsciously drinking in every inch of you as quickly as he can. Heat pools deep in his stomach, because you look just like he fantasized you would.

This is getting dangerous. 

You finally pull your head out from your shirt and toss it on top of your pants. Leon whips his head back to the shower wall, and squeezes his eyes closed as if to squeeze out that image of you. It’s already ingrained behind his eyelids though, properly stored in his brain so he can access it too easily. 

He hears more rustle of cloth, but he doesn’t dare look over again. You’re probably wearing nothing, your skin is probably glowing in the soft yellow light of the mirror lamps, and Leon suddenly wishes he had turned on all the lights when he came in instead of just the moody dim ones. Your bare feet pat against the tiled floor, and Leon holds his breath.

Please stay at the other end.

You pass the end showerhead.

Please stay at the showerhead second to the end.

You pass the showerhead second to the end.

Please stay in the third to the end.

You pass the third to the end, and Leon’s heart is beating in his ears the closer you step.

He squeezes his eyes closed again, though his fantasies push into his mind.

You, stepping in behind him.

You, curving your hands around his hips.

You, pressing yourself against his back.

You, kissing his neck, his shoulders, down his spine.

Leon lets out a shaky breath.

“You okay?” you ask, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. Your voice is close, much too close, and Leon dares to peek as to which shower stall you picked.

Really, he shouldn’t be surprised when he sees you’ve picked the one right next to his.

“Yeah,” Leon says. “Just had a long day of training.”

“Same,” you say as you turn on your own shower. You seem to notice his tension as you set your toiletries on the ground. “Don’t take it personally that I’m right next to you, this is the best shower. The temperature and the water pressure is perfect. If you were in this one I’d probably kick you out.”

Leon lets out another breathy laugh.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want that,” he says as he looks everywhere that isn’t you. 

“Or I’d ask to share,” you say with a lighthearted chuckle.

Leon’s heart pounds.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want that either,” Leon says. His voice is too quiet to be teasing, and in his periphery he sees you furrow your brow.

“I’m wounded,” you say. “I think I’d make a great shower partner. I’d get all the spots on your back that you can’t reach.”

“I can reach all the spots,” Leon says stupidly, even though he can’t.

You switch subjects and start talking about your training, and Leon tries his best to listen. He needs to get his shampoo, but it’s sitting on the floor. Could he just… lean down and grab it? Would that be weird? But then he’d be nose to nose with that translucent partition, and effectively, nose to nose with your blurry and bare figure. He closes his eyes, pats around the ground, finds his shampoo, and stands straight again.

“Oh, can I borrow some of that?” you ask. “I left my shampoo in my other bag.”

Leon turns before he can think when you hold your hand out. He gets a glimpse of your smile, of your hair, wet and dripping, of your cheeks flushed from the steam. 

What if your face was flushed from something else?

He slaps that thought away, squeezes some shampoo into your open palm, and turns back to the wall.

Does he even need to shower? Maybe he could just dry off and shower at home and not risk you finding out about his crush in an embarrassing and non-gentlemanly way. He needs to calm down, because the heat that’s pooling in his stomach is getting needier and needier as seconds pass.

“Leon?” you say, and Leon jolts into focus again.

“Huh?” he grunts. “Sorry, what? I was… spacing out.”

“Yeah I can tell,” you say. “I asked why you’re in here and not in your own shower.”

“Oh, mine’s getting fixed,” Leon answers, and when you close your eyes as the water gently hits your face, Leon can’t stop himself from peeking.

There’s your frame, bare and blurry, behind the translucent partition. What if he stepped around it? Or better yet, what if it wasn’t there? What if he could step to you, press his thumbs into your hips, pull you into his chest?

He shakes his head into focus again. Yep, he can shower at his house, maybe take care of this tension at his house too. Leon rinses the shampoo out, rinses himself off, collects his things, ties his towel around his hips, and walks past you as quickly as he can, forcing his eyes forward the entire time. He barely makes it to his bag before he hears your voice again.

“Leon?” you ask. 

It’s quiet, much softer than what’s normal for you. He glances to you, brow furrowed at the hesitation in your voice. He can only see above your shoulders and below your knees, and you're backed far enough away from the partition so he can only catch the foggy color of your skin.

“Do you not like me?” you ask. “Did I do something to upset you?”

“What?” Leon breathes. “What makes you say that?”

The only sound is the echo of the water hitting the tiles beneath you when you bite your lip.

“Whenever I talk to you, you barely respond,” you confess. “And I just… I feel like you’re really uncomfortable around me. I want to know what I did so I can properly apologize.”

What you did? How about who you are? Charming and captivating and attractive, always knowing what to say to get him to blush.

“You didn’t do anything, promise,” Leon says quickly. “It’s me. I’m always awkward when I’ve got feelings for someone.”

Your eyebrows raise, and so do his.

Oh.

Oh no.

Because there is that sly smirk, slowly inching onto your face.

“Feelings?” you repeat smugly, and you step forward and rest your chin on your fist and your elbow on the partition. “Little ol’ me? What kind of feelings?”

“W-well,” Leon stutters. “Y’know, like, platonically. A-as a friend, co-worker, u-um, a comrade.”

“Hm,” you hum, and you take a step towards the partition. Your figure is a little less fuzzy the closer you step. Dangerously less fuzzy. “Platonically?”

“Yep,” Leon squeaks as his eyes flick to yours, then to your blurry outline. You catch his slip when he stares for a second, and he meets your eyes, and abruptly turns. “I-I’m going to shower at my house.”

“Why?” you ask. “You don’t want to shower with me?”

His eyes widen again when he realizes what he revealed to you. His face is flaring red.

“The… the water is cold here,” he stutters. Leon steps around the shower wall to pull on his pants and pull on his shirt out of view of you and your blurry figure. He gets tangled, thanks to his damp skin, and he can hear your laugh echo in the room.

“I told you this one is perfect,” you say. “There’s plenty of room for you too.”

“A-and I need to feed my… my oven, since I left it on,” Leon blurts as he collects his things as fast as he can. “See you tomorrow!”

“It’s a date!” you call, and your words echo around in the showers, then down the hall as Leon rushes out.

Your words follow him, and that image of you and those fantasies stay unfortunately prominent in his mind, even when he gets home.

Hm, his cheeks are looking quite pink… he definitely has a fever.

The thermometer beeps, you pluck it from his mouth, and showcase that your prediction came true. You set the thermometer on his nightstand without a smug word spoken, but Leon can certainly read it on your face.

“Now that you’ll cooperate, do you want some orange juice?” you ask.

“No.”

“Some candy?”

“No.”

“How about some chicken noodle soup?”

Leon doesn’t immediately grumble anything, but instead fiddles with the stitching on the quilt.

“...with the spiral noodles?” Leon asks quietly.

“Mmhmm.”

Leon purses his lips (not for long since he can’t breathe through his nose), and he finally mumbles an:

“Okay.”

“I’ll go heat some up for you,” you say, and you give his hand a pat. He curls one of his fingers around yours, just to quickly retract his hand again. His cheeks are looking even pinker than before, now. Is he getting warm?

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

“Try to get some rest,” you hum, and after adjusting his blankets again, you head out of his room and into the kitchen.

You had a can of chicken noodle soup (with the spiral noodles) in your pantry, and you stuffed that and some cough drops in your bag before you came over. You rustle around Leon’s kitchen for a pot to start cooking his meal. As you stir and taste-test the soup every few minutes, you wonder how Leon’s feeling. He isn’t hacking so much, so as the soup simmers, you step to his room to peek.

He’s still propped up on his pillows, though his scowl is gone and his eyes are closed. He’s wrinkling his nose in his sleep, as if to push his bangs from his face without using his hands. You let a smile slip, and a plume of affection blooms in your chest. You step over as quietly as you can, brush his bangs from his face, and before you can stop yourself, you gently press your lips to his forehead.

“Sleep well, love,” you say softly. “I know you want to work, but you need to rest and heal too. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You’re not sure why you’re telling this to his sleeping figure - perhaps telling it to him awake would be much too embarrassing. Leon’s eyebrow twitches, so you stand as quickly and quietly as you can, suddenly embarrassed by your tender moment, and you step out of the room.

If you had stayed for a second longer, you would have seen how Leon’s cheeks tinged pink yet again, how he smiled to himself, curled against his pillows, and so sweetly repeated one word:

“Love.”

Raihan

It was movie night, Raihan’s favorite night of the week, because that’s the night he got to spend with you. More importantly, that’s the night he got to sit on his couch snuggled in blankets and sweaters and drinking tea and bantering back and forth with you as you barely watched whatever was on the screen. It was always such a good excuse to sit close, and it was so natural just to casually wrap an arm around the back of his couch, and he decided that tonight was the night he’d finally make it around your shoulders.

Movie night started out as a joke when you mentioned that you had never seen Love in the Time of Pokerus (a cult classic), and Raihan was absolutely appalled and he demanded that you come over that same night to watch it. You agreed, and even brought snacks. The next week, you were shocked that Raihan had never seen Pulp Fanfiction (another cult classic), and you demanded movie night round two. The week after, Raihan suggested you both should probably make movie night a trilogy in order to honor the true cinematic genius that was trilogies, and you agreed by saying it would be an insult to art if you didn’t.

Raihan had lost count of what number you were at, but you were definitely beyond a trilogy, beyond a quadrilogy, and beyond whatever you called what was after five movies. Movie night had even evolved into dinner and movie night when you came a few weeks ago to his apartment and he could hardly focus with how much your stomach was grumbling. You tried to tell him you were fine, and when he noticed how genuinely embarrassed you were, he lied and said he hadn’t eaten dinner yet anyway, so it really wasn’t a hassle to make you something.

It was, however, an excellent opportunity to show off his cooking expertise. Although he was hoping for affirmation to begin with, your enthusiastic praise actually made him blush. Then, your comment on his blush made him blush harder. Not his best moment, but at least it made you laugh.

Raihan practically skipped to his apartment, noticing how beautiful the autumn trees were and how crisp the air felt in his lungs. Leaves crunched beneath his feet like a jaunty melody to add to the giddiness welling in him. It was your turn to pick the movie, so that meant it was his turn to cook, and he already had your favorite meal planned. It was going to be perfect. You had told him to wear his comfiest sweater, and you would wear yours, because whatever you were going to watch tonight deemed it necessary. He was fine with that, because big sweaters on you made you even cuter. If you were wearing his big sweater, well, that’d be just icing on the cake. One step at a time, though.

As he unlocked his apartment Raihan decided that, yep, tonight was the night. He’d finally break the touch barrier. You’ve hugged before (Raihan made sure of that), but never for longer than a normal friend-hug would last. You’d be full of delicious food, tired from your long shift at work, and you’d be snuggled and comfy and cozy in all the blankets he’d set up. He’d have the window open a crack so you’d want the fresh air and the blankets at the same time, but because you’d be a little chilly, you’d need to sit closer.

It was the perfect recipe for cuddling.

After cooking and prepping and swallowing his excitement time and time again, you finally texted to say you were on your way. Raihan used to be embarrassed by how hard he was crushing (Leon would even say whipped), but now he couldn’t care less. He wasn’t sure how you felt, though, so he tried not to lay the flirting on too thick like he would otherwise, just in case that scared you off. He’d rather have you as a friend than not at all.

There was a knock on the door, and Raihan nearly jumped out of his skin. Okay, be cool, be cool. He checked his appearance in the reflective microwave door, tousled his hair just enough, and stuffed his hands into his pockets nice and casually. He sucked in a breath, then opened the door.

And, he let it out, unable to hide his smile when he saw you standing there in your oversized sweater and cheeks pink from the cold.

“Alright,” you said. “I’ve brought options.”

“Options?” Raihan repeated as he leaned against his doorjam, perfectly cool. “That’s not how movie night works.”

“I’ve already taken it to the movie night board of advisors,” you said as you invited yourself into his apartment. “And they approved.”

You bantered back and forth, just as you did every week, sidestepping around each other as you prepared to eat. You were stepping closer to him than you usually did, though, but maybe that was just in Raihan’s head? It did solidify his plan of finally making a move tonight, though. He even took the chance of brushing your waist as he stepped behind you, but he didn’t get much feeling beyond your thick sweater.

Once his initial excitement to see you ebbed, Raihan covered his yawn with his sleeve. He actually had a pretty busy day himself; early workout, then extra training with the new apprentices at his gym, and a training match with Kabu. And actually, the day before that was pretty busy too… he bit back another yawn at the thought.

“You okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, just tired,” Raihan said as he stretched.

“You better not fall asleep,” you teased, and Raihan rolled his eyes as he followed you to his couch.

You both decided on one of the corny holiday movies you brought, turned it on, Raihan adjusted the blankets, you took your regular places on his couch, and his heart was pounding in his ears. He couldn’t initiate anything too early though, he had to set the mood.

Were candles too corny? Too obvious? You liked candles though, right?

“You like candles?” Raihan asked. “A fan gave me one earlier, and it smells like vanilla. Since I didn’t make a dessert, I figured that would be fitting.”

You laughed, and Raihan smiled at the sound.

“Yeah, candles are good,” you said. “Are you getting sentimental on me, Raihan?”

“No,” Raihan huffed, though his smile was prominent on his face. “Maybe.”

He stood, lit the candle, set in on the coffee table, and while he was up, he got your tea and flicked off the lights. Everything was going according to plan, so he took the initiative of sitting a few inches closer the next time he sat down.

The movie started, and the opening scene was immediately corny. Raihan groaned, but when he looked at your reaction, you had your lower lip jutting out, you were leaning towards the screen, and absolutely eating it up.

“Are you getting sentimental?” Raihan asked incredulously. “These movies are so cliche!”

“That’s what makes them nice!” you huffed. You hugged a blanket to your chest in embarrassment. “Yeah some are dumb, but they’re all like, wholesome and warm.”

“Are you cold?” Raihan asked. He knew that’s not what you meant, but he’d snatch any opportunity he had tonight. “Here, let me help.”

He scooched closer, enough that your thighs were touching, and he flung his blanket over both of your laps. He set his arm around the back of his couch, then in a moment of pure, calculated risk, curled it around your shoulders instead.

You blinked a few times, and Raihan tried not to make his tension obvious, though he did let out a deep breath when you eased into his side. Neither of you spoke a word about it with your mouths, but as the movie played, your bodies spoke loudly enough when you curled your arm around his waist, and nestled into his chest.

Tonight was going perfectly.

It was all a little cliche: the movie, the blankets, the snuggling in autumn evening, but Raihan didn’t mind. This was the most comfortable he had been in a while, and his eyes slowly drooped as the night went on. He jolted into focus when you poked his stomach though, because apparently the credits were already rolling.

“That was a good one,” Raihan mumbled, and your laugh shook your shoulders, so it shook his.

“You didn’t even watch it,” you tease when you poke him again.

“Yes I did. The woman came from that big city to the small town, then she met a guy who was humble and she didn’t think she’d like the little town but she did, he taught her the true meaning of family or friendship or something, then they kiss and live happily ever after on their quaint farm.”

Whatever you mumbled next was incoherent, and Raihan chuckled again. He gently fiddled with the fabric of your sweater sleeve and his eyes started to droop again. How could he get you to stay for just a little bit longer?

He didn’t need to think long when you bashfully mumbled next.

“There’s a sequel…”

“Amazing,” Raihan yawned, and he inwardly pouted when you got up to start the next movie. He held his arm out when you came back, an obvious invitation that any other position would be absurd. You quickly nuzzled against him again as the opening scene started.

Raihan let out a yawn and let his eyes close. He actually was dozing at first, but when you started talking to him about the movie, he jolted into focus again. After your brief conversation, he felt how you melted against him, he pretended to let out another snore, then he curled closer to you. And suddenly, the credits were rolling again, and you were both laying on his couch, tangled in thick sweaters and blankets and each other.

“Raihan,” you whispered. “Raihan wake up, the movie’s over.”

He wondered what you’d do, so he kept his eyes closed. He did curl his arms around you tighter - sleeping people did that, right? He didn’t want the night to end.

“Raihan I’ve gotta go home,” you whispered. “I can text you later, okay?”

He didn’t respond, though he was certainly frowning in his head when you untangled yourself from him. He listened to you bustling about, probably collecting your things, but he wondered why you suddenly paused. He heard the soft pat of footsteps, he almost opened his eyes, then his nerves tingled when you pressed your lips to his forehead.

“Um, tonight was fun,” you muttered. “Sleep well.”

He heard you scuffle away, heard his door open, then close again.

Raihan bolted up.

Did you just… did you just kiss him?

His legs and arms and the rest of his body were haphazardly tangled in blankets, so Raihan stumbled to the floor when he tried to stand.

“Hey!” Raihan called. “Hold on!”

He could do that for you too, except aim a few inches lower and really make it the perfect ending to the perfect night. Luckily you were only halfway down the hall.

"[Name]?" you became quiet and stayed still, so Leon called out your name. He quickly turned you over and you were knocked out cold, your cheeks still pink from the alcohol in your system. The blonde huffed and leaned over you, struggling to put you under the covers. He managed to after a few minutes since your whole body was like a heavy log. Before he was going to leave to the living room, he heard you muttering and turned around. "This girl talks in her sleep?" Leon chuckled and walked over to you. His blazing blue orbs analyzed your features, and he brought a hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face. Seeing your face peaceful like this was probably his second favorite expression of yours. The back of his hand softly caressed your cheek and you stirred. “Cute,” he mumbled and covered your shoulders with the blanket. He stayed watching you for a few minutes and reluctantly left to the living room to sleep on the couch. 

--

"Ugh," you groaned, raising a hand to your pounding head. I fucked up. Why did I drink crazily, goddammit! You slowly sat up and looked around the unfamiliar interior. Then, immediately, you looked to your left to check if Leon was in bed with you, but he wasn’t. Thank goodness! I thought I did something stupid last night! A huge headache came back to you and you moaned, rubbing your head. “Dammit,” you grumbled. You eventually wobbled out of the room and into the kitchen after your headache ceased a little. “I need some aspirin, something.” You looked through the kitchen cabinets, looking for the medicine. You eventually found it on the kitchen counter near the sink, and you gladly took it with a glass of water. You looked around the kitchen, and it was indeed clean. Well, Leon was mostly working on his missions anyway, so of course it’s clean. Leon lived in an apartment offered by the government. There are perks to it, I guess. Over the kitchen counter, you saw Leon sleeping soundly on the couch. You rinsed you’re glass of water, and then walked over to the sleeping blonde. ”Cute,” you whispered, kneeling beside him. His right arm was tucked under his head, while his left hand rested on his abdomen. Leon’s eyelashes were so long it wasn’t even fair. Why does he have better eyelashes than me?! His hair was messy, and skin was so clear and overall, he was just perfect. Handsome, strong, thick in the right places, and a very cute dork. His peaceful, sleeping expression. Now, you will admit this was your second favorite expression of his. For some reason, you had an urge to kiss him on the cheek, but you held back the feeling. Instead, you opted to shower, after a few more minutes of staring at the handsome agent. 

-

When you finished showering, you wiped yourself dry and put on the same clothes as last night. The bathroom was steamy from your super hot, lava shower. It was getting stuffy, so you opened the door, only to be met with a sleepy, messy haired Leon, rubbing his eyes. Holy fuck, that is so cute, what the fuck. “Morning,” he muttered, voice raspy. 

”Good morning, Leon,” you managed to not stutter. You walked pass him and went to sit on the couch, feeling fresh and dazed. Ugh, oh my god. Leon isn’t good for my heart. You clutched your beating chest and sighed. You could hear the sound of the water running and him brushing his teeth. You thought back to yourself being drunk and you really hoped you didn’t say anything dumb. You couldn’t remember much from last night, so hopefully it was nothing dumb. 

”How you feeling?” Leon asked as he walked to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. You looked over at him, eyes immediately looking at his bed head. You snorted and he blinked, then realized what you were looking at. “Oh, yeah, it gets too much to handle,” he said his lips curling upwards. 

”I’m sure, but it looks cute! Anyways, I’m feeling good. I took an aspirin,” you answered. 

”That's good, because you definitely were a headache last night,” he said and you blinked.

”Did I do anything embarrassing?” You asked, feeling nervous. He hummed, a devious smirk appearing on his lips. 

”Well, you were pretty bold last night,” he started and you stiffened, “you started touching me, and kept trying to kiss me.” You brought a hand to your mouth, feeling mortified. “Then, you said you wanted to have my babies.” 

”There's no way,” you said, eyes wide. I mean, I do want your babies, maybe.

”Yeah, sadly, you didn’t. So there was no way you did it,” he said and began laughing. “The look on your face!” He laughed hard, his shoulders and messy hair shaking. You watched him, stunned. 

”H-hey! I was really scared I did that!” You cried, feeling embarrassed. He continued laughing, and you weren’t sure why it was so funny, but you began to laugh anyway. 

”Why’re you laughing?” He asked between laughter. 

”I-It’s not even funny, but—“ then, you snorted. Leon laughed even harder and so did you. As you laughed and watched the blonde laugh uncontrollably, you realized you had never seen him laugh like this. 

Laughing Leon was definitely your first favorite expression of his. 

Little did you know, Leon thought the same.

—

“I realized you said ‘sadly’, Leon. Care to explain?” 

”. . .Did I say that? I don’t think I did—hahahaha!”