Chapter Text
Raihan doesn’t know why he’s in the tiny countryside town of Postwick.
Actually, that’s a lie. He’s here because only a few hours ago, Leon was defeated by a fourteen year old on national broadcast, and part of him still doesn’t believe it actually happened.
Raihan eyes the door of the – frankly massive – house in front of him. For a moment, he contemplates knocking on the door, but in the end he pulls out his phone again, tapping out a quick message to Leon. And once it’s sent off, he shoves his phone back into his hoodie pocket, rocking back and forth on his heels and wondering how long is appropriate to wait before having Flygon take him back to Hammerlocke.
He’s barely completed the thought before the door is yanked open, so sudden it almost makes him jump.
“Raihan?” Leon says, his voice a little breathy, and Raihan wonders if he’d actually run to get to the door.
“Hey,” Raihan replies, a little awkwardly. He wishes he’d spent the flight over planning out what to say instead of in denial about what he was doing. “You, uh. Alright there?”
Leon blinks up at him for a moment, and Raihan’s on the verge of releasing Flygon from her pokeball so he can escape, but then –
Then Leon all but falls forwards into him, fisting his hands in Raihan’s hoodie and burying his face in Raihan’s neck. Raihan finds himself frozen, arms hovering awkwardly in the air as he struggles to decide where to put them when half of his brainpower is already consumed by the way Leon’s clinging to him.
Absently, he observes that Leon fits perfectly under his chin.
“You wanna,” Raihan finally manages, “go inside?”
“My mum’s inside,” Leon mumbles, his voice a little muffled against Raihan’s neck. “And my nani.”
Well. Raihan can understand Leon not wanting to see his mum or gran right now, but standing in front of the door like this is getting a little uncomfortable, so he pats Leon gently on the back and says, “Let’s sit down, yeah?”
Thankfully Leon doesn’t protest as Raihan guides him over to the picnic table, sitting the two of them down on the bench. It has the added benefit of making it so that Leon can’t cling like he was before, but he still ends up slumped against Raihan, head resting against Raihan’s chest.
Raihan sincerely hopes that Leon can’t hear the havoc it’s wreaking on his heart.
Stupidly handsome git.
“Now you know how the rest of us feel.”
Leon cranes his head back to blink up at Raihan.
“You don’t see me crying to you every time I lose,” Raihan huffs, but despite his complaints, he finds himself stroking his fingers idly through Leon’s hair, for once not buried under one of his ridiculous hats.
“I buy you dinner,” Leon points out. Raihan’s relieved that he no longer quite looks like he’s on the verge of crying.
“I wasn’t the one who beat you, so you better not be expecting anything from me,” Raihan snorts, but as soon as the words are out of his mouth, everything seems to pause for a moment.
Because although he’s imagined Leon losing hundreds of times, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.
He was supposed to be the one who beat Leon. He was supposed to post a gloating selfie on Instagram and then generously treat Leon to dinner, tease Leon about his loss while cheering Leon up by recounting moments he thought he’d lose, and end with promises of a rematch.
Everything that Leon’s done for him after losing in the championship finals.
“You’ve got a stone heart, Rai,” Leon huffs, but it doesn’t sound like a real complaint, and when Raihan scratches gently against Leon’s scalp, he can feel Leon lean into it.
“You’re the bastard who hasn’t lost a battle since we were twelve,” Raihan retorts –
And isn’t that a thought.
Leon’s been the strongest person in Raihan’s word since they were kids, and the knowledge that there’s someone stronger out there is going to take a bit of reconfiguring. Really, he should be rerouting himself right now, planning how to take down the new Champion, a new rival to challenge.
But if he’s being completely honest, the thought of chasing after anyone but Leon feels wrong.
“You’ve just gotta win next time,” Raihan says, and he feels Leon shift against his chest, peering up at him with something akin to curiosity. “It’s what the rest of us do.” He pauses, and then adds, “And you losing has made me lose face, man, so if you lose to that kid a second time, I’m gonna have to disown you.”
The last bit finally makes a smile tug at the corners of Leon’s lips, fond in a way that makes Raihan’s insides squirm uncomfortably. It’s a good thing that Leon never smiles at him like this during battles, because he’s pretty sure it’d distract him enough that he’d lose in half the usual amount of time.
“You’d dump me for that?” Leon asks with a little laugh. Raihan tries to ignore the way the word ‘dump’ slides off Leon’s tongue so easily, as if they were really dating, and not sort-of-friendly rivals.
Then again, rivals probably don’t just show up on each other’s doorsteps like this.
For a moment, the two of them fall into silence.
“My mum’s probably going to come looking for me soon,” Leon finally sighs, breaking the silence. “Or she’ll send Hop.”
“You moving back in?” Raihan asks, eyeing the large house extending out in front of them. When he’d first seen it, he’d thought it was a ridiculous size, but considering he seems to meet a new family member whenever he comes over, maybe the size is merited.
“I’m not sure what else I’d do,” Leon answers, picking at the fabric of Raihan’s shorts idly. “Chairman Rose’s company owned my flat, and my mum’s been complaining about how I haven’t been spending enough time with family.”
“You can crash at my place if your family starts driving you too mad,” Raihan says, the offer spilling out before he can consider it too deeply.
Who offers up their living space to their sort-of-friendly rival?
Although then again, he doubts many rivals cuddle like this.
“I might take you up on that,” Leon laughs, and Raihan can feel the vibrations of it against his chest, with how close they’re pressed together. “But I might actually enjoy a little family time first.” He looks up at Raihan, and then asks, “Do you want to stay for dinner?”
Raihan blinks at him for a moment, caught off guard by the offer.
“Think I’m good,” he finally manages.
After all, the last time he’d been dragged into having dinner with Leon’s family, Hop had spent half of it recounting his losses to Leon – in a strangely starry-eyed way – and then Leon’s gram had asked him when the wedding was.
As in, his wedding to Leon. Because apparently weddings in the family are serious business and require lots of advance preparation.
Honestly, Raihan would prefer to avoid Leon’s gram if she can see through his crush that easily.
Of course, Leon, the bastard, had just laughed and said they “weren’t quite there yet.”
“My nani’s been asking about you,” Leon says, and Raihan wonders when he learned mind reader.
“You better get in there before she starts thinking I’ve kidnapped you, then,” Raihan replies, nudging at Leon until he finally pulls away. It leaves a cold spot on Raihan’s chest, now that he’s been deprived of Leon’s body heat.
“She likes you,” Leon laughs, a grin spreading over his face as he stands up from the bench. He stretches his arms up over his head, and Raihan grimaces as he hears Leon’s joints crack.
“Right,” Raihan snorts, getting up from the picnic table too, and following after Leon.
“She wants an autumn wedding,” Leon says as he pulls open the door, as simply and casually as if he’s talking about the weather.
It’s not until the door’s closed behind him that Raihan’s brain starts to function again.
---
Raihan wonders how this has become his life.
“Do you think a regular Wailord is bigger than a dynamax Sinistea?” Leon asks around a mouthful of crisps. He’s been sprawled out on Raihan’s couch, watching MOST EPIC LEAGUE BATTLES!! compilations on YouTube for the past hour, and Raihan’s not entirely sure how to feel about it.
“Wailord,” Raihan finally answers.
“That makes me feel bad for Sinistea,” Leon says, the corners of his mouth turning down in a frown. “That it’ll always be smaller, even when dynamaxed.”
“Bigger doesn’t always mean better,” Raihan points out with a shrug. “Smaller pokemon tend to have increased speed and agility.”
“But then what’s the point of dynamaxing?” Leon presses, reaching for another handful of crisps. “You know, evolutionarily? If smallness is an advantage for small pokemon.”
“There are other benefits to dynamaxing,” Raihan snorts.
Leon blinks at him blankly.
As someone who’s spent years carefully building a signature strategy, planning combinations and researching weather effects purely in an attempt to defeat Leon, Raihan kind of hates geniuses. Especially thick ones.
In fact, he’s about to launch into an explanation about status changes and stamina growth when he finally notices what Leon’s wearing.
“I’ve been looking for that all morning!” he exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at Leon.
“Oh, the sweatshirt?” Leon asks, following Raihan’s finger to where the shiny gold of Raihan’s favorite article of clothing is stretched over his stomach. There are a few crumbs clinging to it and he reaches up to brush them off, making Raihan clench his teeth and resist the urge to yank it off of him. “Sorry man, I was cold.”
“You’re going to stretch it out,” Raihan complains, trying to focus more on the danger his sweatshirt is in than the width of Leon’s chest underneath it.
“Yeah, it’s smaller than I expected,” Leon replies with another one of those stupidly gorgeous smiles of his. “I didn’t realize you were so skinny.”
Raihan scowls. Unlike Leon, he’s never been able to build muscle, and when combined with his height, it means he has roughly the build of a twig. Which is why he prefers baggy sweatshirts to give himself a little more substance, especially when he’s around Leon, who could probably crush a watermelon between his thighs.
But that’s not something Raihan should be thinking about, especially when Leon’s still sprawled over his couch.
“Give it back or I’ll kick you out, back to your mum’s,” Raihan threatens, and Leon sighs before stripping off the sweatshirt and handing it back.
It’s warm as Raihan puts it on, and smells faintly of Leon’s shampoo, which Raihan tries to convince himself is unpleasant.
“It’s not like I’ve moved in,” Leon protests, breaking Raihan from his thoughts. “I still have to be home in time for dinner.” He pauses, then asks, “You sure you’re not coming with? I think we’re having stew tonight.”
“I’ll pass,” Raihan replies, plopping himself down in an armchair. Sandaconda takes note as soon as his arse hits the cushion, slithering over and looking up at him expectantly until he hefts her up high enough that she can pull herself the rest of the way up into his lap.
Honestly, he misses when she was a Silicobra and weighed just seven kilos, instead of sixty five. It’s a miracle she hasn’t crushed him yet.
Idly, he wonders if Leon works out solely so he can lift all his pokemon, and the thought of Leon trying to carry Charizard has him biting back a laugh.
“I’ll bring you some tomorrow, then,” Leon says, bringing Raihan back to the current conversation. Raihan tries not to think too hard about the assumption that Leon will be coming over again tomorrow, and just makes a noncommittal noise in reply as he digs his phone out of his pocket.
He fiddles with it a bit, flipping through camera apps until he settles on one. Sandaconda takes that as her cue and raises her head up, flicking her tongue out at the phone as he snaps a selfie, and he strokes the top of her head in thanks. Most of his pokemon have gotten pretty good a posing by now.
My beautiful girl, is the caption he types out on Instagram.
Once the photo has been posted, though, he switches to his front camera to snap a picture of Leon, lounging on the couch in a pose that looks simultaneously like the most uncomfortable position in the world, and also the most comfortable.
He sends the photo to Sonia, along with a message that says, Please find him a job.
A reply pops up almost immediately.
Oh my god, did you two finally move in together????
Raihan chokes on air.
He’s moved back in with his family, Raihan types out with deft movements. He’s just been hanging out at mine.
A moment later, another message pops up on his screen.
“Hanging out.”
Raihan narrows his eyes and replies with, What’s that supposed to mean?
Nothing, Sonia replies. Despite the fact that it’s a text, it somehow has all the innocence of a Purrloin next to a scratched-up couch. Just that I’ve seen the way you check him out when you think no one’s paying attention.
Raihan stares at his phone for a long moment. Somehow, he’d thought he’d been more subtle about his crush than this, that Leon’s gram had only picked up on it because of some weird sixth sense, but apparently he’s been obvious enough for multiple people to notice. Maybe even enough for Leon to –
Someone yelps, and Raihan looks over to find that Leon’s dropped his phone on his face.
… alright, maybe he doesn’t have to worry that much about Leon noticing.
If you can name one person who hasn’t checked him out before, I’ll give you twenty quid, Raihan finally replies, tearing his eyes away from Leon to look back down at his phone.
Two new messages pop up on his screen almost immediately.
Nessa.
Because she’s a lesbian.
Raihan supposes he should have seen that answer coming.
You can come give me the twenty quid once you’re done “hanging out” with your boyfriend, Sonia adds, smugly enough that Raihan locks his phone without dignifying her with a reply. The last thing he needs is for Sonia to make him think even more about all the other things he and Leon could be doing right now, instead of watching poorly edited YouTube videos.
He watches Leon lick crumbs off his fingers and tries to convince himself it’s not fucking hot.
He fails pretty badly.
---
Leon bursts into the flat with all the excitement of a Yamper puppy.
“Raihan!” Leon exclaims, the grin on his face as wide and perfectly white as always. “Do you want to go to Alola with me?”
Raihan looks up from where he’s polishing Duraludon and asks, “What, now?”
“No, next month,” Leon says with a laugh, plopping himself down next to Raihan on the couch. He reaches out to stroke a finger over Duraludon’s cheek, and Duraludon makes a happy noise, leaning into his touch. The traitor.
Not that Raihan can’t understand the urge.
“Why would we be going to Alola?” Raihan asks, trying to focus back on the conversation at hand. He sprays a little more steel cleaner on the back of Duraludon’s neck and rubs at it with his cleaning cloth.
“I was thinking about what to do next, now that I’m out of a job,” Leon admits, letting himself sink back into the couch cushions. “And I heard that some other regions have special battle facilities for advanced trainers. Tournament sort of things, with no special items, reduced team numbers, a level fifty cap on pokemon, that sort of thing.”
“So you’re going to Alola to challenge one?” Raihan asks, trying to sound disinterested.
“Not quite,” Leon answers. “I was thinking of starting my own here.” He pauses, and then adds, “I mean, it’s not like there are any gym positions open at the moment.”
“You’d be a terrible gym leader,” Raihan snorts, rubbing a little harder at a particularly stubborn bit of tarnish on Duraludon’s steel.
There have been plenty of fans calling for Leon to start up his own gym after his loss, but honestly, Raihan can’t think of a worse idea. Leon’s not the sort of person who can force himself to lose, or even give his opponent the advantage, and considering that the whole point of the gym system is to help amateur trainers strengthen their pokemon and collect gym badges, losing at least every once in a while is pretty much in the job description.
And Raihan might not particularly mind it, because learning how to lose is a strategy in and of itself, but Leon would go mad within a month.
“There’s a place called the Battle Tree in Alola, and the organizers said they’d be happy to take me through the process of running it,” Leon continues, ignoring Raihan’s comment. “And they’re even willing to pay for the airfare and accommodation if I have an exhibition match with Red.”
“Red?” Raihan asks, finally tearing his eyes away from his reflection in Duraludon’s steel to look over at Leon. “The Kanto campion, Red?”
“Yeah, mate,” Leon replies, a giddy grin stretched across his face. “So, are you coming?”
“I don’t need to watch you lose to someone other than me again,” Raihan snorts, turning away again. “It’ll cheapen my later victory.”
“Hey!” Leon sputters, offense clear in his tone. “You think I’d lose?”
He doesn’t, if he’s being honest. But then again, he hadn’t imagined Leon losing to a fourteen year old either, yet here they are now.
If he sees Leon lose a second time, then what? What’s that supposed to mean for his own strength, for how he’s spent years training purely to beat Leon, because Leon’s the strongest trainer he’s ever met?
What sort of pathetic does that make him?
Something pokes Raihan’s arm and he’s broken out of his thoughts.
“You alright there?” Leon asks, and Raihan realizes that it’s Leon’s index finger, pressing into his bicep.
“I’m fine,” Raihan replies, swatting Leon’s hand away. “Go have fun in Alola.”
For a moment, Leon goes unnaturally silent.
“You know, when I lost, the first thing I thought about was you.”
The statement catches Raihan off guard, and he frowns as Leon tugs the brim of his hat down, obscuring his face from view.
“If you’d be disappointed,” Leon explains, his tone a little muttered. “If you’d decide I wasn’t a worthy – rival, anymore.”
Raihan can’t quite suppress the snort of laughter that escapes him. At least it has the benefit of making Leon look up at him again, his nose scrunched up and a frown marring his face as he peers at Raihan from under the brim of his hat. It makes Raihan want to do something stupid, like kiss him.
“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?” Raihan asks. Leon’s confused frown deepens and Raihan continues, “You’ve got a better rival now, haven’t you? Someone who can really push you to new heights.”
“You already do that,” Leon says, as easy and straightforward as if he’s listing off Charizard’s dex number.
“Flattery really doesn’t suit you,” Raihan snorts, and he goes to scrub at a nonexistent blemish on the back of Duraludon’s head, but before he can make contact, Duraludon turns to look at him and makes a protesting noise. “What?”
“He agrees with me,” Leon replies, reaching out to stroke a finger against Duraludon’s cheek, and Duraludon makes a happy trill. “We know how strong you are.”
“I never said I wasn’t strong,” Raihan protests, crossing his arms over his chest and slouching deeper into the couch. “And I’m definitely gonna beat you next time, but it’s hard to call someone your rival if you’ve got a ten and oh winning streak against them.”
For a moment, Leon goes quiet, still petting Duraludon.
“I have a notebook,” Leon finally says. “About how to beat you.”
Honestly, Raihan’s kind of surprised Leon even knows what a notebook is.
“I’ve gotta actually use my head to beat you,” Leon groans, slumping next to Raihan, their sides pressed together in a way that makes it hard for Raihan to focus on the conversation. “I spent the entire off season trying to think about what you were going to throw at me this year in the finals and it didn’t even occur to me that you might not be my opponent.”
“Are you trying to blame your loss on me?” Raihan asks, trying to ignore the heat he can feel on his face. Not for the first time, he’s glad that his skin is dark enough that it doesn’t reveal his embarrassment.
“Mm,” Leon makes a noise of agreement, relaxing into Raihan and resting his head against Raihan’s neck. “I have to think about you all the time, or I’ll lose.”
Right. Because thinking about your rival twenty-four seven is completely normal.
“So,” Leon continues, “are you coming to Alola?”
“I’ve got exhibition matches for the off season – ” Raihan starts. He attempts to subtly shift his shoulder out from under Leon, but Leon’s got too bloody much muscle, the weight of him pinning Raihan in place.
“There’s an offer for you to do an exhibition match at the Battle Tree too,” Leon interrupts, his face brightening up. “Because I’ll be up against Red, they want to pair you up with Blue. Kanto’s best versus Galar’s best, sort of thing.”
Raihan blinks at him for a moment, caught off guard. It’s not as if he’s not a popular gym leader – he has a decently large fan club and an even larger Instagram following, and his matches with Leon are popular enough that it shouldn’t be surprising that people are aware of him on an international scale, but somehow it still catches him off guard.
There’s a whole world of trainers out there that he’s barely given a thought to, because of how much Leon’s consumed his worldview.
“I’ll see if I can make it work with my schedule,” Raihan finally says, hoping that his tone comes across as ‘not particularly interested.’ “For the sake of my international fans.”
Leon grins and vaguely, Raihan wonders what he’s gotten himself into.
---
“Never. Again.”
“You know, for once I’m glad I’m shorter than you,” Leon says as they wait next to a luggage carousel in the Alola International Airport.
“You’re a prick,” Raihan shoots back. He leans down in a lunge, ignoring the stares he receives in favor of trying to stretch the stiffness out of his legs. He holds the position for a few minutes and then switches positions to stretch his other leg, grimacing as the tightness of his muscles reminds him of the fifteen hour long flight.
“It is a shame Charizard couldn’t just fly us here, though,” Leon continues, ignoring Raihan’s insult. “Maybe next time we go on holiday we should chose somewhere closer.”
“I thought this was work,” Raihan replies as he slowly straightens himself up again.
“I don’t mind mixing work and pleasure,” Leon says with a grin that does uncomfortable things to Raihan’s insides. It’s his Champion grin, the self-confident look he always sports right before KO’ing the last of Raihan’s pokemon, and Raihan’s heartrate speeds up in what might be a fight-or-flight response, or might be… something else.
It’s also the expression Leon’s making in his fifth season league card, which Raihan definitely does not have a copy of hidden away anywhere.
Honest.
“I’m sorry, but are you Leon? The Galar Champion?”
The unfamiliar voice breaks Raihan from his thoughts, and he looks over to find a young woman hovering near the two of them, looking up at Leon with a familiar starstruck expression. Part of Raihan had hoped that they’d be able to avoid a little of this outside of Galar, but he’d known it was unrealistic.
“Well, I am Leon, but I can’t say I’m the Champion anymore,” Leon answers, his grin turning into something a little more polite as he turns to face the fan.
“Oh, right,” the fan replies, looking a little flustered.
“It’s alright, love,” Raihan cuts in, leaning against Leon’s side and resting his forearm on Leon’s shoulder. “He’ll be back eventually.”
“Eventually?” Leon sputters, looking at Raihan with something dangerously close to a pout.
“I’ll be the one taking the championship next year,” Raihan replies, shooting a sharp smile at Leon. “I’ll probably take a peaceful retirement after a few years, though, so you can have a chance at the title again.”
“Say that when you can actually beat me,” Leon shoots back, and there’s that grin again.
Raihan tears his gaze away from Leon and tries to ignore the heat on his cheeks.
The fan is still standing in front of them, and she somehow looks even more starstruck than before.
“Right, do you want me to take a picture for you?” Raihan says, nodding at the Rotom phone clutched in the woman’s hands.
“Yes, please!” the woman answers, and almost before he can blink, Raihan finds her phone in his hand. Instead of going to stand next to Leon, though, she squeezes in between the two of them, throwing up a pair of peace signs and looking expectantly towards the phone clutched in Raihan’s hand.
“You want me in it too?” Raihan asks, blinking down at her.
“You are Raihan, aren’t you?” the woman replies, frowning slightly.
“Yeah,” Raihan says, feeling a little like an idiot.
The woman nods, probably to indicate that, in that case, she does want him in the picture, so Raihan holds up the phone, angling it to try to get all three of them in the frame. It’s a little difficult, because the fan’s rather petite, and Raihan finds himself hunching over so it’s not quite so obvious how much he and Leon tower over her.
He’s well versed in taking selfies, though, so it’s not long before he’s handing back the phone. The woman practically snatches it back, grinning widely as she thanks the two of them.
Thankfully no one else stops them for photos as they pick up their luggage and exit the airport, but Raihan can feel people’s eyes on them.
And they only attract more attention when Leon takes out a pokeball and releases Charizard right in front of the airport.
“Hey, mate,” Leon says, petting Charizard’s nose. Out of the corner of his eye, Raihan catches sight of at least two people holding up their phones, and he really hopes he doesn’t look as jetlagged as he feels.
Fans: always taking pictures.
“Leon – ” Raihan starts, trying to suggest that this might not be the time and place, but Leon interrupts him before he can finish.
“Front or back?” Leon asks.
“What?” Raihan replies, blinking at Leon.
“Our resort’s on Akala island,” Leon answers. “We’ll have to fly to get there.”
“Right,” Raihan says. Briefly, he regrets not having done more research beforehand, but then again, research would have just made him all that more aware of the fact that he’s going on holiday alone with Leon to a prime honeymoon destination. “I’ll take front.”
Leon gets lost in his own hometown. Who knows where they’d end up in a foreign country, if left to Leon’s devices?
Which, consequently, is how Raihan finds himself holding onto Charizard with one hand and trying to navigate on his phone with the other, while doing his best to ignore the way Leon’s pressed up behind him, arms wrapped firmly around his stomach.
“What pokemon is that?” Leon exclaims, right next to Raihan’s ear.
“The one with the orange beak?” Raihan asks, looking up from his mapping program to squint at the flock of pokemon up ahead of them. “Looks like it’s Alolan.”
“Maybe we should catch one,” Leon says. The suggestion makes Charizard perk up a little, looking over at the bird pokemon with new interest. “To find out what it is.”
“Our ’dexes aren’t going to do anything,” Raihan points out. “Just buy a guidebook.”
“Don’t you want to try catching an Alolan pokemon, though?” Leon asks. Raihan can feel the movement of Leon’s chest against his back with every word, and he does his best to ignore how firm it is.
“We can’t bring any back to Galar,” Raihan replies.
He should know. He’d spent the better part of the last week trying to figure out if there was any way for him to smuggle an Alolan Exeggutor back into the country, but unfortunately, border security coming into Galar is especially strict. The only reason Leon even has a Charizard is that it was originally a “diplomatic gift” from Kanto.
“I suppose you’re right,” Leon sighs, leaning forward to press his cheek against Raihan’s shoulder blade.
Before he can spend too long lamenting not being able to catch the orange-beak-whatever, though, a bright yellow pokemon flits over and lands on top of Charizard’s head.
Charizard is too shocked to shake it off, and Raihan would have laughed, if he wasn’t in a similar state. Most pokemon have a healthy fear of Charizard, whether or not they’re aware he’s the Champion’s Charizard, and keep a good distance before they realize he’s really quite easygoing.
The electric yellow pokemon, meanwhile, seems oblivious to the chaos it’s caused, and instead turns to peer at Raihan and Leon before doing a little dance, swinging around its pom-pom wings and kicking up its feet.
“Leon,” Raihan says. “Let’s catch some Alolan pokemon.”
“Which one is Flygon?” Leon asks, slipping a hand into Raihan’s hoodie pocket and fumbling for a pokeball.
They wouldn’t arrest Galar’s favorite Champion for pokemon smuggling, right?
---
Raihan wakes up with an unfamiliar warmth pressed up against his chest.
It’s pleasant for a moment, before his brain finally kicks into gear and he realizes who, exactly, is snuggled up next to him. A quick review of his memories from the previous night reminds him that Leon had accidentally booked a room with one bed instead of two, and at peak tourist season, the hotel hadn’t been able to spare a different room.
Which is why Leon is tucked comfortably under his chin, hair even more of a mess than usual and his mouth hanging open as he snores.
He looks like an idiot, and Raihan kind of loves him.
“Next time, I’m making the reservation,” Raihan mutters, more to himself than to Leon. For a moment, he hesitates, but then he brings a hand up to thread his fingers through Leon’s hair. He tries to smooth it down a bit, but it sticks back up stubbornly as soon as it’s passed through his fingers, and he wonders if this is why Leon always wears a hat, or if his hair is like this because he always wears a hat.
After a couple of minutes, though, he decides that he’d better not let Leon catch him doing this, and instead tries to twist his way out of Leon’s grip.
It doesn’t work very well. Leon’s grip is… very tight.
“Oi,” Raihan finally says, pushing at Leon’s shoulder. “Leon, wake up.” Another snore. “Leon.”
“Mm?” Leon replies, his voice thick with sleep. Instead of blinking his eyes open, though, he just presses himself even closer to Raihan, burying his face in the crook of Raihan’s neck.
“Let me up,” Raihan huffs, shoving at Leon a little harder.
“Why?” Leon asks, as if the answer shouldn’t be obvious. Does Leon think it’s normal to cuddle your rival on a work trip? Sort of work trip.
“I need to take a piss,” Raihan says instead, because the last thing he needs is for Leon to really start thinking about the position they’re in. As dense as he is, with his head so close to Raihan’s chest, he might actually notice how loud and fast the thump of Raihan’s heart has become.
Leon makes an unhappy noise, but thankfully complies, and Raihan has to force himself not to bolt from the bed.
He takes longer than he probably needs in the bathroom, trying to recompose himself. He’s not entirely sure if he can survive another week of this, but insisting on getting his own room would probably look strange now, wouldn’t it?
When he finally comes back out of the bathroom, he finds that Leon’s managed to pull himself out of bed and get dressed. His familiar hat is firmly in place, hiding the worst of his bed head, and Raihan’s fingers itch to smooth down the stray tufts sticking out from under it, popped up like a Taillow’s hind feathers.
“What do you want to do today?” Leon asks as he slips on a truly hideous pair of flip-flops. Not for the first time, Raihan despairs for Leon’s fashion sense. “We’re not expected at the Battle Tree until tomorrow.”
“Go to the beach?” Raihan suggests, glancing over to the hotel room’s expansive windows, which give a great view of the sparkling ocean.
He’s only posted two selfies since arriving in Alola. He needs somewhere with a fan-pleasing backdrop, and the only thing in Alola more popular than Mimikyus are the beaches.
“Great!” Leon says with a grin. “I hear Alola’s got some great water pokemon. I’ll have to try my hand at catching some, after what happened yesterday.”
Raihan grimaces. Flygon’s never been terribly good at going easy on opponents, and she’d knocked out the poor pom-pom pokemon with a quick dragon claw before either of them could even ready a pokeball. They’d had to rush it to the nearest pokemon center and in the end, had decided it was better to release it than to add to its trauma.
“Or surfing,” Leon continues, rubbing at his beard thoughtfully. “That’s something you’re supposed to try in Alola, isn’t it?”
Which, consequently, is how Raihan finds himself lounging on a beach chair and watching over the top of his sunglasses as Leon attempts to balance himself on a Mantine.
He’s not the only one staring, of course. Thankfully Leon’s fashion sense isn’t so bad that he’s wearing a speedo, but his swimming trunks aren’t any bigger than the shorts he wears with his league kit, and this time he doesn’t have leggings to protect his modesty. It also doesn’t help that without that stupid cape, it’s much easier to see the effects of his weightlifting efforts, and Raihan wonders if he should try to sneak a photo.
In the end, he flips the camera around for a selfie instead.
He spends a few moments fussing with his headband, a lighter, more summery fabric today, and then fluffs up his locs, trying to get them to sit well against the beach chair. There’s a fruity cocktail that’s been slowly melting on the side table and he grabs it, holding it up next to his face as he grins up at the camera in what he hopes is a good balance of cocky and sexy.
It takes about ten photos before he finally gets one that he’s satisfied with, and he types out, Getting some of that Alolan sun, before posting it to Instagram.
Out of the corner of his eye, he notices that Leon’s managed to stand up properly on the Maintine, and is striking his Champion pose. He snaps a photo of it before he can think better of it, and briefly wonders if he should upload it too, but it would probably overshadow his own selfie.
Also he doesn’t particularly want even more people to see Leon in his tiny swim trunks.
Raihan’s broken out of his thoughts as a notification pops up on his phone.
How’s the honeymoon?
Raihan blinks at the comment for a moment, before his cheeks heat. Part of him hopes that Nessa hasn’t been gossiping with Sonia, but judging by the comment, she probably has. The last thing he needs is for even more people to find out about his awkward crush on Leon.
How can I have a honeymoon without you here, love? he finally manages to reply, hoping it comes off as smooth.
It doesn’t take long for another notification to pop up.
I don’t date idiots or men. You’re both.
Raihan decides that it’s probably better not to try to protest. At least not in the comments of his public Instagram.
Thankfully he’s distracted from the insult, though, as he gets a new notification on his post, from Hop this time.
No fair!!! I wanted to come too!!
The comment makes Raihan frown and he replies with, Too busy studying to become a professor now?
Lee said I couldn’t come, Hop answers, tacking on a sad face emoji. Because it’s a special trip for the two of you.
So a honeymoon.
Raihan glares at Nessa’s comment and tries to convince himself that the heat on his face is from the sun, and not at the thought of Leon telling his brother that this is “a special trip of the two of them.” If it is a special trip, it’s only because of the exhibition battles with Red and Blue, and Raihan doubts that the Battle Tree organizers would pay for Hop to tag along.
Still, Leon’s probably going to have to deal with Hop’s moping when they get back, because he can’t imagine Hop being happy about not getting to see such a historic match live.
Another comment appears, from an account Raihan doesn’t recognize this time.
So now that Leon’s lost, you’ve given up and run away to Alola? Strongest gym leader my arse.
Leon locks his phone and decides that maybe he should give surfing a try.
---
“It should be right here.”
“Let me see,” Raihan sighs, leaning in to look at the map pulled up on Leon’s phone. The scent of salt and sand is still clinging to Leon’s skin, and Raihan tries not to notice it. “What’s this place called again?”
“Royal Bakery,” Leon answers. Raihan makes an absentminded noise of acknowledgement and pokes around at the map for a few moments, before looking up to take in their surroundings.
He blinks as his eyes land on the building right across the plaza.
“Is that it?” he asks, pointing over at the cheery looking shop.
“Where?” Leon replies, somehow managing to look everywhere but at the right building.
Raihan bites back another sigh and instead starts towards the bakery, shooting a, “Come on,” over his shoulder. Leon frowns at him instead of following, though, and before he can think better of it, Raihan reaches out to grab Leon’s wrist and starts pulling him along.
Thankfully, Leon goes with him easily, and Raihan twitches a little as Leon adjusts his grip, twining their fingers together so that they’re holding hands, instead of Raihan just pulling him along.
Raihan really hopes no one’s taking photos of them right now.
He doesn’t break Leon’s grip, though.
The café is rather small, and there are a decent number of tourists, but there’s a booth open in the back. Leon orders what seems like half the malasadas in the pastry case, and Raihan watches on dubiously as Leon tries to balance the overloaded try as they make their way back to the open booth.
“Sweet, spicy, dry, sour, or bitter?” Leon asks as he plops himself down at the table.
“Sweet’s traditional, right?” Raihan replies, still eyeing the malasadas uncertainly. They certainly smell good, but he’s not sure he wants to eat something advertised as ‘dry’ or ‘bitter.’
“I think this one’s a sweet one,” Leon says, digging a malasada out from the pile. He hands it over to Raihan and then selects a spicy one for himself, biting into it without hesitation.
He doesn’t immediately start coughing it back up, so Raihan takes a bite of his own malasada. It’s certainly sweet, but not overwhelmingly so, and Raihan bites into it again, custard filling smearing over his bottom lip. He darts out his tongue to clean it up, sliding it over his lip before polishing the remainder off his canines, and when he looks back over at Leon, he finds Leon staring.
“What?” Raihan asks, frowning.
“Nothing!” Leon says quickly, looking back down at his own malasada. Raihan could almost swear that Leon’s turned a little red, but it’s difficult to tell with his skin tone. “It’s good, yeah?”
“Mm,” Raihan agrees around another mouthful of malasada.
Leon smiles, something small and self-satisfied, and their knees knock under the table, and suddenly all Raihan can think about is Nessa’s honeymoon comment.
“So you’re feeling better?” Leon asks, breaking Raihan from his thoughts.
“Better?” Raihan repeats, frowning slightly.
“You didn’t seem like you were in the best mood earlier,” Leon explains, fiddling with his malasada. “When you came to join me for surfing. Did something happen?”
The reminder of the Instagram heckler makes Raihan suppress a grimace. He’s refrained from checking his notifications since then, although he knows he’ll end up checking them later, and the number of those sorts of comments will only have increased. He should be used to them by now, but something about them always sticks in the back of his mind.
Maybe it’s because they’re at least a little true.
“Just idiots on the internet reminding me to train more,” Raihan finally answers, waving off Leon’s concerns.
“Reminding you to train more?” Leon asks, his forehead creasing and the corners of his lips tugging down into a frown.
“If I have time to go on holiday, I should be training for next season instead,” Raihan says, forcing an uninterested tone. “The like.”
When he looks back over at Leon, he’s surprised to find that Leon’s expression is positively stormy. It’s not often that he sees this sort of look on Leon’s face instead of his Champion smile, and normally it’s reserved for people who mistreat their pokemon.
“They’re full of shite.”
The statement catches Raihan even more off guard. If Leon’s stormy look is rare, profanity leaving his lips is even rarer, after so many years of press training and living as Galar’s most beloved celebrity.
“You work harder than anyone,” Leon continues, and he starts to clench his hand, before seeming to realize that he’s still clutching his malasada. “If anyone deserves a break, it’s you.”
“Says the undefeated Champion of ten years,” Raihan says dryly, trying to ignore the warm feeling in his chest.
“You’re a gym leader,” Leon replies, shaking his head. “You have it much harder than me.”
Well. Raihan can’t really argue with that.
“Maybe I should make an Instagram account so I can tell them off,” Leon muses, and Raihan chokes on a bite of malasada.
“Leon,” Raihan says, once he’s finally managed to dislodge the pastry from his throat. “You’re really not built for internet fights, mate. And I do not want to be the one held responsible for getting you into them.”
Leon blinks at him, looking confused, and then says, “I’m good at fights, though.”
Raihan sighs and decides to switch the topic.
“Your brother was also complaining to me about how you wouldn’t let him come with us,” Raihan says. Across the table, Leon goes a little stiff. “Why’d you say that? You know I don’t mind him tagging on. He’s really peeved, and you know he’s going to complain about not seeing your match live.”
“It’s not – ” Leon starts, flustered. It’s fascinating to watch. “We’ve been so busy lately that we haven’t had time for just the two of us. I thought a trip together would be nice.”
This is not a honeymoon, Raihan reminds himself firmly.
Leon just means this as… rivals… or something.
“No time for the two of us?” Raihan finally manages, arching an eyebrow at Leon. “What was you barging into my flat every day, then?”
“Before I lost the Champion title,” Leon huffs. He hesitates, but then says, “And I wanted to do something more special than just crashing at yours. We were moving pretty slowly before because we were busy, but now that I have a lot more free time on my hands, I want to start taking things further.”
Leon looks Raihan directly in the eye as he says it, intense and emotional in a way that sends a shiver down Raihan’s back.
Raihan has no bloody clue what it means.