Title: Rain
Author: Shadow/Phantomness
Pairing: Championshipping (Lance x Red)
Fandom: Pokémon
Theme: #31, Rain
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Pokemon belongs to Nintendo and Shogakukan Comics.
This non-profit, non-copyright infringing fanfiction belongs to me under
international copyright laws and taking it is plagiarism. Thank you.
*Phantomness bows*
Notes: <> for telepathy, ** for thoughts, italics
if a pokemon talks
Warnings: AU, shonen-ai, angst, prostitution, alcohol, insanity, Character Death, suicide, fanon references
“You’re going to get wet if you keep sitting out here.” A voice chided. Red turned around, smiling as he saw his lover holding a bright red umbrella over both of them. He sighed as he stood, brushing wet grass off his jeans, noticing the damp patches that the rain had left.
“I’m sorry, Lance. I didn’t want to make you worry.”
Lance shook his head. “Well, what were you thinking about that made you so preoccupied?”
Red linked arms with Lance as they began to walk the few blocks back to Indigo Plateau’s Pokemon League Headquarters. “It’s nothing.”
“Are you certain?”
Red’s eyes flared along with his temper. “It’s none of your business! Quit being such a busybody! I can have my own life too you know! Honestly, Lance, you’re such a clingy girl! Sometimes, I wish we’d never met!” He instantly regretted his words, as he saw Lance’s eyes dull to soft, molten gold.
“As you wish.” The Dragon Master said quietly. He efficiently toweled Red’s hair off in the front room, ushered him off to shower, and had a warm quilt and hot chocolate waiting when he came out, only he himself was not there.
Red wrapped himself in the quilt, stared at the flames crackling noisily over thick maple logs, and sipped his hot chocolate, noting that Lance had even added miniature marshmallows. He felt slightly guilty, but shoved it down.
If Lance weren’t so nosy, he wouldn’t have exploded. After all, he wanted his privacy! It was perfectly all right for him to have his own life.
… Right?
Lance calmly slid the golden hairpins out of his hair and placed them in his safe, before he poured himself a glass of wine and turned to his paperwork with a sigh. Perhaps he had overestimated things, pushed too far. But it had been a harmless question.
He turned to the next tax proposal and grimaced. By eleven P.M., he was on his third glass of wine and the paperwork was practically nonexistent. The room was dark, lit by the single desk lamp, and he penciled in his signature with a neat flourish.
It was all so pointless, really. With a sigh, he hurled the glass to the ground, watching it splinter into shards. Glass always looked prettier broken. It cast little rainbows over the floor.
Rainbows… were for promises, but they only came after the rain.
Somehow, Lance did not think he would be seeing any soon.
The next
morning, it was raining too. Red sighed. He had wanted to go train, but in this
weather, he doubted it would be pleasant. Still, he packed his camping gear and
a week’s supply of food and flew to
He spent
two weeks camping in
“His resignation letter is on your desk.” Lorelei told him, and he blinked at the Ice trainer for a few minutes before he walked into his room.
Sure enough, Lance’s neat copperplate script detailed the terms of his contract dissolution.
There was no good-bye, and Red felt tears prickling in his eyes.
Why had Lance just left him like that? Had he possibly known…?
No! This was wrong! He was not guilty! If Lance didn’t overreact to every little thing, they would have never come to this place! Red nodded, signed the letter, and forwarded it to President Goodman.
Red snarled, before he strode out of the room.
He wondered if Bruno would be up for some fun…
Six months later, Red was feeling a lot worse. His entire body ached, but worse than that, his heart ached too. Quick romps with strangers and even wild pokemon had done nothing to fill the ache in his heart. In fact, as he watched the last man line up with a leer, he felt violently ill.
What had he become, reduced to selling his body for empty pleasure?
He was vaguely aware of tears on his cheeks as the man pounded into him, and he almost enjoyed the pain.
Was it… fitting punishment?
He was no longer sure of that, but one thing did stick out in his mind. He had betrayed Lance first.
He had been sitting out in the rain wondering how to explain his … actions with another, and when Lance had asked, he had just exploded.
As the man groaned from above him and pulled out, he stood, and left the room. He briefly paused to pull some clothing on, and then released Espeon to teleport back to Indigo Plateau.
Gods, what had he become?
Even if he had started letting everyone who crossed his path have him, it was… had he done it to hurt Lance? He thought so, but his thoughts were muddled, and he pried open the Dragon Master’s old desk drawer – they still had not found a replacement – and eyed the bottles of wine with a grimace.
He’d need a lot tonight…
Two weeks later, he saw Lance.
The Dragon Master looked different – his hair had been cut short, and he wore thin glasses with rectangular frames, gold-rimmed. He was dressed neatly in a white dress shirt and dark pants, and as he spoke, the girl – no woman, sitting next to him tittered. She wore a business suit honey-colored, but somehow, he knew without knowing what she really was.
He pushed his way across the coffee shop and sat down next to Lance, who simply shot him an irritated looking over the top of his glasses.
“Do you mind, Red?” Lance asked sharply. “I’m in the middle of a business meeting here.”
Red choked, as he looked at Lance. The Dragon Master regarded him with a cool, impersonal stare.
The Champion broke down.
Lance was admittedly surprised when Red clung onto him, climbed into his lap of all things, and began sobbing, but he waved off Madeline, who huffily picked up her briefcase and left. Lance awkwardly patted Red on the back, not quite sure what to say, but finally steered him out of the café. It was only a few blocks to his new office, so he led Red inside and closed the door behind them, handing Red the box of tissues on his desk.
Red wiped at his eyes roughly. He had refused to let go of Lance’s hand during the entire walk, and more than one woman had asked what was wrong with his son.
Lance sat back in his leather swivel chair and crossed his arms. Red idly noticed that the placard listed him as an accountant, but he was too caught up in his own angst to comment.
“Well?” Lance asked stiffly. “I thought it was over.”
“O-Our relationship, you mean?” Red hiccupped. “It… it…”
“You made it quite clear what your feelings for me were.” Lance said quietly. “You did not want someone so prying. You wanted freedom. I gave you that. Are you not happy now, Champion?”
… Happy?
How could he be happy the way
things were now?
“Your lifestyle changes were a bit surprising, but given your nature, not unbelievable. I am sorry for stifling your emotional growth. Now, I do believe this conversation is ended.”
Red gaped at Lance. “I…”
Lance drummed his fingers lightly against the polished mahogany of his desk. “Yes, Champion?”
“I… I’m sorry.” He squeaked.
Astonishment flickered across pale features. “Your apologies are not necessary. The parting was for the best.”
The best?
Lance adjusted his glasses with a free hand. “The pain is long past, Champion. Good day. Now let me escort you out.”
Red clutched at Lance’s sleeve desperately, even as Lance peered at him quizzically. Without a word, he pulled Lance down – grabbed him by his tie, and kissed him hard.
What could he say?
He was shocked when Lance pulled back with a disgusted look. “I am none so desperate as to choose you now, Champion, not when I could procure more pleasant services. The cost may be higher, but tis worth it.”
His words stung, and Red was suddenly very aware of how dirty he felt. The idea that Lance would treat him like a whore was…
But he was one, wasn’t he? He’d slept with countless people and pokemon both, and he blushed in shame.
“Y-You don’t want me?” His voice cracked.
“Once upon a time, I did.” The Dragon Master mused. “But you are no longer the boy I fell in love with. He died a long time ago.”
Lance stood, and Red could almost see a cloak rustling behind him. “There is no reason to prolong this unnecessary charade. May you enjoy the rest of your life, Champion.” He inclined his head in a bow, and retreated back behind his desk.
Red stared at him, for a long moment, before he stood shakily. Lance expected him to leave, but he had misjudged Red’s character. He frowned as Red walked over and hugged him.
Anger flared in his heart. “I told you to leave, Champion. You don’t want a clingy little girl, isn’t that right?”
“T-That was only because I was angry!”
“Angry for what, Champion? I wonder… was it true that you slept with Bruno the day after I left and Brock the day before?”
Spots of red appeared in the Champion’s cheeks.
Lance nodded. “I thought so. So you see Champion, you really do not need me. There are plenty of men who would love to satisfy their carnal desires with you, Champion. I do not count myself among that number. Now release me.”
“Why are you being so cruel?” Red sniffed.
“Cruel? My dear Champion, any cruelty I show was learned from you.” Lance smiled, but it did not touch his eyes, and Red shivered involuntarily. “Did you enjoy our time together, Champion? You must have, I looked pretty with my legs spread for you, didn’t I? But it wasn’t enough, Champion; it was never enough for you. Your insatiable appetite for novelty – I could not give you what you truly wished.”
“No, no…” Red murmured, but Lance didn’t seem to hear him.
“I wonder; Champion, if I die, will that finally be enough for you?” Lance asked. He guided Red’s hand to his chest, as Red stared at him. “I would do it so easily, you know. It wouldn’t even hurt. And then you need never to think of me. And that would make you happy, wouldn’t it? After all, you would never have to bother with love again. I’m sure there are many men who would fuck you seven ways from Sunday if you asked nicely, and that’s all you really care for.”
“That’s not what I want…”
“Yes, it would be messy, but you could paint rainbows in my blood and never see the broken dreams. It would probably be best that way.” Lance leaned forwards, capturing Red’s mouth in a kiss. “You know you want to, Champion.”
Red tasted despair, and the tears continued to trickle down his cheeks. He paid them no heed. “But…”
“Unless you wanted something else, Champion?” Lance had slipped into something cruel, so soft but those words cut like knives, and he was unsure which one of them was lost now. “One last fuck for the road, perhaps?”
“No!” Red blurted out. “Nothing like that! I just… I just… wanted you to love me…”
Lance’s eyes were strangely blank as he gazed at Red dispassionately. Red tried hard not to fidget, wanting the moment to last.
“I’m sorry.” Lance finally said, “But I can’t.” It was the most natural-sounding thing he had said so far.
“Why?” Red asked. “Is it because I’m so broken and dirty now?”
Lance shook his head. “Loving hurts too much. If I love, I can’t freeze, and then I’ll die…”
“You don’t make any sense.” Red said softly. “You… you won’t die, will you?”
“I gave you my heart once.” Lance said. “You broke it. You broke me. And now, if I love again I will surely die. There is no way to fix it, Champion. Will you let me die? Will you, Champion? Will you finally grant me peace?”
“B-But I want you to love me…”
“You are selfish, Champion.” Lance exhaled a long, slow sigh. Then he stepped backwards and clasped his hands in front of his chest. “But in the end, I suppose I am selfish as well…”
There was a gleam, a glitter, and suddenly, Red knew. He stared in mute horror as Lance pulled the Sacred Sword from his chest, the blade dull silver, coated with blood.
The Elite trainer gave him a mocking smile, and then collapsed.
Red screamed. He clutched Lance to his chest and screamed, but it did no good, and he was hoarse when the medics finally came, hours too late, and pulled him away from the body.
The next morning, he slit his wrists with the Sacred Sword.
End Fic
Completed 1/19/07
Dame yo… I hate economics… now I have to worry about the final. *Growl* And my characters are very good at self-destructing, but I can assure you that I have never drunk alcohol – it makes me high with just one sip, anyways, so I am not an alcoholic, and as for the sex, no, none of that.
Red: *Strangling the Author*
Phantomness: *Turning purple* EEP! Well, you didn’t really deserve a happy ending this time!
Lance: She’s got a point there, love.
Red: *Sobs* But-But Lance died! And then I died!