[Pokémon MVGS] Even if We Never Win
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teamflareTitle: Even if We Never Win
Fandom: Pokémon Main Video Game Series
Pairing: Professor Augustine Sycamore/Lysandre
Rating: T
Summary: "You know how to play poker?"
Notes: Written for Writer's Month, for the prompt: chance. Title from Other Side by Metric.
AO3 Link: Here.
"You know how to play poker?"
There was something about Giovanni's drawl that always put Lysandre on edge. He held no particularly positive feelings for the man who'd forcefully dragged him away from his triumphant victory, though most of the negative feelings he'd had at the beginning had also dulled with time. If anything, the Rainbow Rocket boss was more of an inconvenience now, like an annoying background noise he couldn't completely drown out.
At least he was a little easier to tolerate than that horrible green-haired man in the gaudy cloak. Lysandre avoided him like the plague.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table they were both sitting at.
"I don't play games of chance," he said. "They're pointless."
Giovanni laughed, a booming sound that made Lysandre's ears throb. "You're a clever one, aren't you? Tch. I'll have to ask Archie, then."
He dragged his chair against the metal floor as he got up, and Lysandre clenched his jaw to school his reaction into that of polite disinterest. He'd grown used to the way some of his colleagues would try and coax him into anger. They'd given up on getting anything except blank stares and cold shoulders from Cyrus after a few days, yet they still kept attempting to aggravate him for reasons that were beyond his grasp.
Cyrus was pleasant company, at least. He spoke only as much as he needed to make himself clear, and cared about machines quite a lot. He was probably the smartest man among them, no matter how highly Maxie thought of himself. Archie was nice enough, when you could get him to shut up, which was not nearly often enough.
Lysandre leaned back against his chair and sighed.
"Why'd you lie to him, boss?"
The voice, a low murmur close to his ear, narrowly made him fall off his chair. His heart burst in his chest, suddenly beating so fast he could almost feel it thump against his ribs.
"Professor," Lysandre rasped. Professor Sycamore's gloved hand caressed his cheek slowly, as if he was trying to soothe a spooked mudsdale. "I didn't hear you come in."
"You were lost in thought," the professor purred. He sat down on the chair next to him, scratching under Lysandre's chin. "You didn't answer my question."
Lysandre tilted his head to look at Augustine Sycamore. He'd taken off his specialized visor, revealing the grey depths of his gaze, dark and hazy. He was smiling the soft, easy smile that hid the worst of his schemes, his upper lip barely curving to reveal a hint of teeth. He was, as always, the picture of the cruelest kind of beauty, the sort they spoke of in fairytales, a zoroark ready to trick you into letting yourself be caught in his maw, a froslass about to smother you in her icy cold embrace.
He was the love of Lysandre's life, the blood in his veins. The only thing keeping him sane in the whirlwind of madness they'd both ended up in.
"I wouldn't trust a man like Giovanni not to cheat at poker," Lysandre said. Augustine let out a mean little cackle. "There's no point in playing a rigged game."
"Really?" Augustine murmured. His hand was on Lysandre's neck now, pinching the skin of his nape that wasn't hidden under his cravat. "I think it can be quite exciting, playing a game you're guaranteed to lose."
When Lysandre chuckled, Augustine pinched him under the jaw, making him gasp.
"Is that so," Lysandre said, holding his head up to bare more of his throat. "Why don't you show me, Professor?"
This time, when Augustine smiled, it was all teeth, razor-sharp and hungry, the one that made Lysandre want to get on his knees, hold his head down, and beg for a bite on the back of his neck. He gave him a little tap on the cheek and winked.
"Today's your lucky day, boss. Perhaps you should have taken the poker offer after all."
He got up, stretching his back in his usual manner – way too dramatically – and Lysandre followed, trying to rein his enthusiasm in so as to not jeopardize his evening. The last time he'd been a little too eager, he'd ended up making so much noise as a result of his punishment that Cyrus had pretended he and Augustine didn't exist for a full week.
It had been worth it, but tonight he hoped for another kind of reward. The sort that would have Augustine walking funny in the morning.
Judging by the sly expression on the professor's face, they seemed to be on the same page.
Fandom: Pokémon Main Video Game Series
Pairing: Professor Augustine Sycamore/Lysandre
Rating: T
Summary: "You know how to play poker?"
Notes: Written for Writer's Month, for the prompt: chance. Title from Other Side by Metric.
AO3 Link: Here.
"You know how to play poker?"
There was something about Giovanni's drawl that always put Lysandre on edge. He held no particularly positive feelings for the man who'd forcefully dragged him away from his triumphant victory, though most of the negative feelings he'd had at the beginning had also dulled with time. If anything, the Rainbow Rocket boss was more of an inconvenience now, like an annoying background noise he couldn't completely drown out.
At least he was a little easier to tolerate than that horrible green-haired man in the gaudy cloak. Lysandre avoided him like the plague.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table they were both sitting at.
"I don't play games of chance," he said. "They're pointless."
Giovanni laughed, a booming sound that made Lysandre's ears throb. "You're a clever one, aren't you? Tch. I'll have to ask Archie, then."
He dragged his chair against the metal floor as he got up, and Lysandre clenched his jaw to school his reaction into that of polite disinterest. He'd grown used to the way some of his colleagues would try and coax him into anger. They'd given up on getting anything except blank stares and cold shoulders from Cyrus after a few days, yet they still kept attempting to aggravate him for reasons that were beyond his grasp.
Cyrus was pleasant company, at least. He spoke only as much as he needed to make himself clear, and cared about machines quite a lot. He was probably the smartest man among them, no matter how highly Maxie thought of himself. Archie was nice enough, when you could get him to shut up, which was not nearly often enough.
Lysandre leaned back against his chair and sighed.
"Why'd you lie to him, boss?"
The voice, a low murmur close to his ear, narrowly made him fall off his chair. His heart burst in his chest, suddenly beating so fast he could almost feel it thump against his ribs.
"Professor," Lysandre rasped. Professor Sycamore's gloved hand caressed his cheek slowly, as if he was trying to soothe a spooked mudsdale. "I didn't hear you come in."
"You were lost in thought," the professor purred. He sat down on the chair next to him, scratching under Lysandre's chin. "You didn't answer my question."
Lysandre tilted his head to look at Augustine Sycamore. He'd taken off his specialized visor, revealing the grey depths of his gaze, dark and hazy. He was smiling the soft, easy smile that hid the worst of his schemes, his upper lip barely curving to reveal a hint of teeth. He was, as always, the picture of the cruelest kind of beauty, the sort they spoke of in fairytales, a zoroark ready to trick you into letting yourself be caught in his maw, a froslass about to smother you in her icy cold embrace.
He was the love of Lysandre's life, the blood in his veins. The only thing keeping him sane in the whirlwind of madness they'd both ended up in.
"I wouldn't trust a man like Giovanni not to cheat at poker," Lysandre said. Augustine let out a mean little cackle. "There's no point in playing a rigged game."
"Really?" Augustine murmured. His hand was on Lysandre's neck now, pinching the skin of his nape that wasn't hidden under his cravat. "I think it can be quite exciting, playing a game you're guaranteed to lose."
When Lysandre chuckled, Augustine pinched him under the jaw, making him gasp.
"Is that so," Lysandre said, holding his head up to bare more of his throat. "Why don't you show me, Professor?"
This time, when Augustine smiled, it was all teeth, razor-sharp and hungry, the one that made Lysandre want to get on his knees, hold his head down, and beg for a bite on the back of his neck. He gave him a little tap on the cheek and winked.
"Today's your lucky day, boss. Perhaps you should have taken the poker offer after all."
He got up, stretching his back in his usual manner – way too dramatically – and Lysandre followed, trying to rein his enthusiasm in so as to not jeopardize his evening. The last time he'd been a little too eager, he'd ended up making so much noise as a result of his punishment that Cyrus had pretended he and Augustine didn't exist for a full week.
It had been worth it, but tonight he hoped for another kind of reward. The sort that would have Augustine walking funny in the morning.
Judging by the sly expression on the professor's face, they seemed to be on the same page.