[Pokémon X&Y] Transit
Sep. 23rd, 2023 09:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
javert posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
teamflareTitle: Transit
Fandom: Pokémon X&Y
Pairing: Professor Augustine Sycamore/Lysandre
Rating: G
Summary: There was no rushing some things. They would happen, or they wouldn't.
Notes: Written for the prompt "hesitation."
AO3 Link: Here.
When he was younger, and the world was exciting and everything seemed easy, Augustine's patience had been paper-thin. He was always running around, stomping in the mud to look for pokémons to poke and stare at, speaking too fast for his mother to understand, racing through the steps needed to get to where he wanted to be. Once he had his eyes on a goal, nothing could stand in his way. That sheer determination balanced out his tendency to leave a mess in his wake on account of his legendary clumsiness.
As the years passed him by, his drive didn't leave him, yet he slowly became more subdued. It wasn't so much getting older as it was giving up on opportunities he couldn't live up to: his failure to master mega-evolution for himself left a mark on him he didn't want to linger on. He still spoke loudly and moved his arms too much, and he still let his enthusiasm for his work push his body to its very limits, but he learned at long last the virtue of being cautious. There was no rushing some things. They would happen, or they wouldn't.
Those were his thoughts upon first spotting the broad silhouette of the man who'd just opened a brand-new café in Lumiose City. He was tall, with large hands and clothes that fit him perfectly. His hair shone gold under the overhead lights whenever he leaned in to greet his customers.
One could still find some exceptions to the rule.
Lysandre spoke of his aspirations and worries about the future with a regularity that bordered on obsession. It was less impatience and more persistence. He was gifted when it came to working on things that required to be precise, his fingers steady, his gaze unwavering. Augustine could have watched him brew coffee or work on his devices for hours.
His gift extended to other, less technical subjects, too, as they both found out once Augustine had gathered the liquid courage to kiss him and see where it could lead them. He hadn't let himself think long enough to second guess himself, and Lysandre had responded nearly instantly, grabbing him by the waist with an urgency that seemed to surprise even him.
The world felt slower with someone else to enjoy it with. Even the simplest of sensations stretched out, heightened by the other's presence: the rich taste of homemade food prepared just the way Augustine liked it, the goosebumps left behind by lips brushing over warm skin, the sound of Lysandre's rare bursts of laughter, his voice almost like a roar, filling the whole room.
It drove Augustine to wonder if maybe this was what patience was about, in the end. Making the most out of every moment. Waiting for his daily work at the lab to be over seemed trivial when it meant being reunited with Lysandre in the evening. The anticipation was like seasoning over a beautiful meal. It tasted all the better for it.
Perhaps this was what made it so difficult to face the gulf between them once it began to widen. It went a little bit at a time. Lysandre had never hidden his disdain for those who didn't live up to his standards, but it was easy enough to ignore when Augustine wasn't the target of his ire. All he had to do was shake his head, his expression barely chastising, and Lysandre would chuckle and move on to talk about something else.
When he stopped sharing as much as he used to about the work he was doing to better Kalos, Augustine told himself that he was owed some rest from all of that. Lysandre had given so much of himself; him finally letting some of it go should have been good news. Yet there was a weight in the pit of Augustine's stomach from the words he didn't let himself say.
Nobody else seemed to have noticed anything was amiss. Lysandre carried himself as he always had. Bringing it up would have only served to ruin what they'd managed to build together.
If something was bothering him, Augustine knew Lysandre would have trusted him with it. They'd discussed his concerns at length, debated over the right thing to do a thousand times. They could have done it a thousand times more.
Sometimes, as they were lying together in the dark, their legs tangled with the covers, Augustine would open his mouth to ask, and then close it without even taking a breath. His heart would beat inside his chest, pressed up against Lysandre's back, and he'd foolishly hope that Lysandre would be the one to say something, to realize that something was wrong, that they'd both been thrown off-balance. He never did.
Instead, he'd sigh, half-asleep, and let Augustine hold him a little tighter, leaving him to wonder when, exactly, his newly acquired patience had morphed into resignation.
Fandom: Pokémon X&Y
Pairing: Professor Augustine Sycamore/Lysandre
Rating: G
Summary: There was no rushing some things. They would happen, or they wouldn't.
Notes: Written for the prompt "hesitation."
AO3 Link: Here.
When he was younger, and the world was exciting and everything seemed easy, Augustine's patience had been paper-thin. He was always running around, stomping in the mud to look for pokémons to poke and stare at, speaking too fast for his mother to understand, racing through the steps needed to get to where he wanted to be. Once he had his eyes on a goal, nothing could stand in his way. That sheer determination balanced out his tendency to leave a mess in his wake on account of his legendary clumsiness.
As the years passed him by, his drive didn't leave him, yet he slowly became more subdued. It wasn't so much getting older as it was giving up on opportunities he couldn't live up to: his failure to master mega-evolution for himself left a mark on him he didn't want to linger on. He still spoke loudly and moved his arms too much, and he still let his enthusiasm for his work push his body to its very limits, but he learned at long last the virtue of being cautious. There was no rushing some things. They would happen, or they wouldn't.
Those were his thoughts upon first spotting the broad silhouette of the man who'd just opened a brand-new café in Lumiose City. He was tall, with large hands and clothes that fit him perfectly. His hair shone gold under the overhead lights whenever he leaned in to greet his customers.
One could still find some exceptions to the rule.
Lysandre spoke of his aspirations and worries about the future with a regularity that bordered on obsession. It was less impatience and more persistence. He was gifted when it came to working on things that required to be precise, his fingers steady, his gaze unwavering. Augustine could have watched him brew coffee or work on his devices for hours.
His gift extended to other, less technical subjects, too, as they both found out once Augustine had gathered the liquid courage to kiss him and see where it could lead them. He hadn't let himself think long enough to second guess himself, and Lysandre had responded nearly instantly, grabbing him by the waist with an urgency that seemed to surprise even him.
The world felt slower with someone else to enjoy it with. Even the simplest of sensations stretched out, heightened by the other's presence: the rich taste of homemade food prepared just the way Augustine liked it, the goosebumps left behind by lips brushing over warm skin, the sound of Lysandre's rare bursts of laughter, his voice almost like a roar, filling the whole room.
It drove Augustine to wonder if maybe this was what patience was about, in the end. Making the most out of every moment. Waiting for his daily work at the lab to be over seemed trivial when it meant being reunited with Lysandre in the evening. The anticipation was like seasoning over a beautiful meal. It tasted all the better for it.
Perhaps this was what made it so difficult to face the gulf between them once it began to widen. It went a little bit at a time. Lysandre had never hidden his disdain for those who didn't live up to his standards, but it was easy enough to ignore when Augustine wasn't the target of his ire. All he had to do was shake his head, his expression barely chastising, and Lysandre would chuckle and move on to talk about something else.
When he stopped sharing as much as he used to about the work he was doing to better Kalos, Augustine told himself that he was owed some rest from all of that. Lysandre had given so much of himself; him finally letting some of it go should have been good news. Yet there was a weight in the pit of Augustine's stomach from the words he didn't let himself say.
Nobody else seemed to have noticed anything was amiss. Lysandre carried himself as he always had. Bringing it up would have only served to ruin what they'd managed to build together.
If something was bothering him, Augustine knew Lysandre would have trusted him with it. They'd discussed his concerns at length, debated over the right thing to do a thousand times. They could have done it a thousand times more.
Sometimes, as they were lying together in the dark, their legs tangled with the covers, Augustine would open his mouth to ask, and then close it without even taking a breath. His heart would beat inside his chest, pressed up against Lysandre's back, and he'd foolishly hope that Lysandre would be the one to say something, to realize that something was wrong, that they'd both been thrown off-balance. He never did.
Instead, he'd sigh, half-asleep, and let Augustine hold him a little tighter, leaving him to wonder when, exactly, his newly acquired patience had morphed into resignation.