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Naptime for Champions
The waves of Sootopolis shimmered under the afternoon sun, casting reflections that danced along the white stone walls of Wallace’s home. The city was quiet, save for the gentle lapping of water against the docks and the occasional cry of a distant Wingull.
Inside, Steven sat on Wallace’s couch, his head bowed over an open book detailing rare mineral formations. He had promised himself he’d finish reading it, but his eyelids had grown heavy, and the warmth of the sun streaming through the window wasn’t helping.
Perched beside him, Metagross let out a low, mechanical hum, its four legs tucked neatly beneath its body. On the other side of the couch, Milotic curled near Wallace, its elegant body draped lazily across the floor, its jewelled scales shimmering in the light.
Wallace glanced up from the sketch he had been working on—an intricate drawing of Sootopolis’s architecture—only to find Steven’s head dipping lower and lower until his chin nearly touched his chest. His grip on the book loosened. Another minute, and—
Thud.
The book slid from Steven’s hands, landing unceremoniously on the plush carpet.
Wallace barely stifled a chuckle. “Well, well,” he mused, tilting his head as he turned to Milotic. “It appears our dear Steven has finally surrendered.”
Milotic flicked its tail with amusement, letting out a soft, melodic trill. Meanwhile, Metagross, as logical as ever, simply adjusted its position slightly so that one of its massive limbs rested near Steven, as if standing guard over its drowsy Trainer.
Wallace sighed, setting his sketchbook aside. Carefully, he reached for a nearby blanket and draped it over Steven’s shoulders. "You should really learn to take proper naps instead of fighting them," he murmured.
As he leaned back, Wallace felt a weight press against him—Steven, shifting in his sleep, head now resting lightly against Wallace’s shoulder. His breathing was steady, peaceful.
Wallace’s lips quirked into a soft smile. He shot a glance at Metagross, who regarded him with its usual unreadable expression. “Looks like we’re all stuck here for a while,” Wallace murmured, carefully adjusting his posture so Steven wouldn’t stir.
Milotic let out another contented hum, coiling comfortably beside them. Wallace rested his head back against the couch, listening to the gentle sounds of the city outside, the warmth of his Pokémon and Steven beside him.
Perhaps a nap didn’t sound so bad after all.
~~
Ocean’s Embrace
Steven sat quietly under the beach umbrella. In his hand he was absent mindedly scooping sand and guessing the ratio between quartz, igneous rock, and shell fragments. Wallace was in the sound, his Pokémon splashing happily in the waves as they finished their training for the day. Steven watched him bound gracefully through the waves to dive under the water and pop up several meters away before diving under the surf once more. He made it seem so easy, just like everything else Wallace did.
“Steven!”
His head jerked up at his name.
“Come join us, the water is lovely, darling.”
Steven shook his head, sinking his feet further into the sand as if to take root.
“I’d rather not get wet-“ the sentence had hardly left his lips before a giant wave crashed onto him, knocking their umbrella over, drenching the towels, and the picnic basket vanished as Milotic innocently sunk under the water once more.
Wallace ran up to Steven, laughing as he helped Steven up, removing a piece of kelp from his hair.
“Seems you’re already drenched dear.”
“I, uh… Rocks don’t swim Wally.”
“Islands do.”
“What? No! Islands are essentially the peaks of underwater mountains, rooted to the earth’s crust even underwater! They don’t float!”
They had made it to the water’s edge by the time Steven ended his impassioned rant, pausing as the waves lapped at his feet. Wallace stood in front of him, his hands reaching out. Steven hesitated, before taking both nervously, coarse meeting smooth as they took small steps until the water was up to their waists. Luvdisk bumped into their legs gently before shooting off, leaving a trail of silt. Steven looked up at Wallace who gently pressed his shoulders until he was laying on his back. He could feel Wallace’s arms holding him up, keeping him from sinking like a stone.
“You need to relax, my darling, take a deep breath and listen to the waves.”
Steven felt the tension leaving his body, and the pressure on Wallace’s arms seemed lighter. He stared up at the passing clouds, the screech of a flock of wingulls drowned out by the crash of the waves upon his ears. He understood now, when Wallace had previously mentioned that when he had been a coordinator, how he would hear the ocean instead of the roaring crowds. Even the sound of his own thoughts was softer. He felt a hand find and close around his own, and turning his head he saw Wallace, eyes closed, floating beside him.
A small smile floated across Steven’s lips, “Did you know, Oshawotts will hold hands when they are resting so they won’t get separated?”
Wallace opened one eye, a gentle smirk on his lips, “Oshawott, Oshawott.”
Steven snorted, splashing water at his boyfriend, before suddenly finding three water Pokémon dousing him. Coughing and spluttering, he fled from the water, laughing while Wallace called off his overprotective team.
~~
Raindance
The sky above Sootopolis shimmered with the last hues of sunset, streaks of pink and gold reflecting in the crater lake that surrounded the city. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone, and the hush of an approaching storm lingered between the rooftops.
Steven adjusted the lapels of his suit, already regretting letting Wallace drag him to yet another extravagant gathering. The Gala of Water, an annual event celebrating Hoenn’s rich marine life, had been as opulent as expected, filled with glittering lights, flowing silk, and music that thrummed through the grand hall. But now, standing outside the venue under the open sky, Steven finally felt like he could breathe.
Wallace, still clad in his dazzling white coat embroidered with silver waves, stepped beside him with a sigh. “You disappeared,” he chided, his voice lilting with amusement. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you weren’t enjoying yourself.”
Steven exhaled through his nose, offering only a quiet, “It was… a bit much.”
Wallace chuckled. “You always say that.” His gaze flicked upward, catching the swirling clouds. “Looks like the weather agrees with you. A storm’s coming.”
The first raindrop landed on Steven’s cheek, cool against his warm skin. Then another. And another. Within seconds, the sky opened up, rain falling in a soft, rhythmic patter. Gasps and hurried footsteps echoed from the hall as guests scrambled for cover, shielding their fine clothes. But Wallace remained where he was, closing his eyes as droplets collected in his hair, dampening the silk of his sleeves.
Steven turned to him, incredulous. “You should get inside before—”
Before he could finish, Wallace seized his wrist, his grip light but insistent. “Dance with me.”
Steven blinked. “What?”
“Dance with me,” Wallace repeated, stepping back, his free hand sweeping outward in an invitation. The rain shimmered in his silver hair, clinging to his lashes like tiny diamonds. “No music, no audience. Just us.”
Steven hesitated. He wasn’t a dancer, not the way Wallace was, moving through life like every step was part of a grand performance. And yet, there was something about the way Wallace was looking at him now, with quiet patience, as if he already knew the answer.
So Steven exhaled, letting the tension slip from his shoulders. “Fine.”
Wallace beamed and pulled him close, one hand slipping to Steven’s waist, the other still tangled with his fingers. They moved slowly at first, rain pooling in the fabric of their clothes, their shoes sliding against the slick stone. Wallace led with practiced grace, guiding Steven in a gentle waltz that felt almost effortless.
“You’re better at this than you let on,” Wallace murmured, eyes glinting with mischief.
Steven huffed. “I’m just following your lead.”
“And yet, you don’t seem to mind.”
Steven didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure he needed to. Wallace’s fingers curled slightly against his, his touch warm despite the chill of the rain. The world around them softened, no roaring crowds, no duties as former Champions, no expectations. Just the steady rhythm of the storm, the press of Wallace’s hand, and the quiet realization that Steven wasn’t in a hurry to let go.
For once, maybe Wallace was right. Maybe, just this once, he didn’t mind at all.