A/N: So this is my first fanfic involving these two gay nerds. It follows my own concocted canon, some sort of mesh of the games and the manga, and explores Steven and Wallace as characters and their dynamic relationship. If you haven't read the manga, have no fear: it should be easy to understand without it.
Also a little disclaimer: I haven't seen the anime so don't expect any anime-specific canon.
" ...with your rose-red youth and your rose-white boyhood, you have had passions that have made you afraid, thoughts that have filled you with terror, day-dreams and sleeping dreams whose mere memory might stain your cheek with shame - "
― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
The young boy crouched, his hands fashioned together around his knees. He watched from the same vantage point that he had been watching from for a good half a day now, too shy to approach the similarly-aged boy at the bottom of the crater, yet too preoccupied with the scene before him to get back to work.
His name was Steven Stone, and all he really wanted to do was dig holes. But first, he wanted to be that green-haired boy's friend.
He didn't know what it was. Maybe he was just lonely at his home in Rustboro with his father, and this was one of his only opportunities to really make a friend. Maybe the boy's peculiar form of training was just mesmerising Steven. He had never seen anything quite like it in his life; the way that the pokemon twisted and turned in the water appeared to serve no strategic purpose whatsoever, but it sure did look pretty. And the boy… the way he commanded the pokemon with such confidence and grace was captivating.
As for what was keeping him glued the the higher layer of the crater, Steven could not easily pinpoint. The feeling could be equated to fear, probably, most likely. Steven was never really a social butterfly, always maintaining only a distant friend or two. Well, human friends, that is. He much prefered his Aron and his Beldum over any sort of human companionship. Of course he had explored the possibilities of a friendship with another human, someone who could speak and be spoken to in a way that his pokemon simply couldn't, but a companion that could match his interests and tolerate his passions as well as they did was yet to be found. So what made this strange boy so much different?
It had to be the boy's fiery, aggressive passion, burning bright as he conducted his pokemon like an opulent symphony. The flames of his elegance flickered and danced like- no, wait. Steven realized with a jolt that he had it all wrong. The boy's beauty could not be compared to a fire at all. The movements were much more akin to the sea. Yes, the boy's movements crashed over Steven in the way a wave does the shore, and captivated him in the same way that the light of the moon bouncing off of the waves at Mossdeep did.
Obtuse metaphors in toe, the eight-year-old Steven worked up enough courage to begin the rocky descent into the center of the crater, where the calm shore was. It was nothing like the shore in Mossdeep. In fact, Steven was pretty sure he had never seen water so placid, despite having a pokemon splashing around in it.
As he dragged himself closer and closer to the young trainer, Steven tried his hardest to quiet his footsteps. It was hard not to make noise on the rocky ground of Sootopolis, so the whole trek made him a little anxious. What if the stranger turned around and saw a scrawny blue-haired boy creeping up on him? What would he say to a native Sootopolitan with green hair? Or maybe that hair was teal, or turquoise, or even a medium-aquamarine. Steven, with his limited vocabulary, declared it to be green.
He shook the pesky thoughts; now was not the time to get hung up on details. Letting out a deep breath, Steven let the first words that came to mind spill out of his mouth alongside a puff of air.
"You remind me of the Ocean," he started. A little forward, but truthful. The stranger turned at the sudden sound, caught completely unawares by the curious boy.
The stranger's face was soft, kind, a young face, not unlike his own. Steven judged him to be the same age, if not just a tad older. The boy's face brightened as he donned an excited smile.
"Uh, thanks? I really like the Ocean! I'm happy I remind you of such a great thing!" Steven smiled too. This wasn't so bad. The pokemon in the water paused its thrashing and peeked over the sharp shoreline. Steven recognised it as a Goldeen.
"Yeah, well, I really like rocks! Do I remind you of rocks?" Steven felt the need to parry the statement with an interest of his own.
The strange boy was quick to retort confidently, his hands finding his hips and his nose finding the sky. "Yeah, well I bet you don't like rocks as much as I like the water!" He didn't really answer Steven's question, not that it really mattered that much anyways.
Steven let out an indignant squeak of shock at the absurd statement. "Yeah, well-!" He struggled to come up with a retort, unable to use words to actually convey what he was thinking.
"Relax, I'm only making fun!" The boy dropped the puff from his chest and acted a little more approachable, noticing Steven's discomfort. "What's your name? Are you from the outside? I've never seen you around here before."
Steven lightened up, glad of the change in attitude. He let out a puff of breath and remembered what his father told him about making friends. Just be yourself, Steven.
"My name is Steven, future Hoenn League Champion and heir to Devon Corporation!" The extra stuff was all about superiority. How many other kids could say that kind of stuff? That's right, none.
"Heir? To Devon? What's that mean?"
"That means my daddy owns Devon, and I will too some day!" Now it was Steven's turn to puff out his chest, all high-and-mighty.
"Own Devon? I didn't even think that was possible!"
"Of course it is!"
"Well my name is Wallace, future contest Idol of Hoenn!"
When Wallace struck a pose, his arm extending out and his other arm throwing itself behind his head, Steven had to admit that Wallace had him beat when it came to presentation. However, there was one thing Steven got caught up on, and his face contorted slightly in confusion.
"Contest Idol? What's that?"
Wallace gasped, slapping his hands to his face in exaggerated disbelief. "You've never seen a contest before? An Idol is someone who's really good, and who everyone wants to be!"
Steven cocked his head, his silver-blue hair falling in his face. "So it's like… the champion, but of contests?"
"Pretty much, yeah. Since you've never seen a contest before, I'm going to show you what it's like right now! You're going to love it."
Before Steven could object, (not that he wanted to, of course) Wallace twisted around with an indescribably dramatic flair. He returned to conducting his Goldeen, shouting the command to make it do a bubble beam. Of course, Steven had witnessed the prowess of a bubble beam in battle before, but it was never quite like this. This bubble beam was majestic, beautiful, captivating… nothing like the rough and toughness of a battle move. So that was why Wallace was able to capture Steven's attention. He wasn't training for a battle, like Steven had originally thought, but training for a contest instead. He lowered himself to the ground, tired of standing, and watched Goldeen intently.
Wallace transformed the still lake into a contest hall fit for top-notch pokemon trainers, the glassy surface of the lake becoming a stage for Wallace's Goldeen, and Steven becoming the roaring audience. He watched on as Wallace coordinated every move, and in that moment, Steven was sure that the other boy was going to the top. Every practiced movement looked natural and graceful. Every moment was a moment suspended in time. When the performance was concluded, Steven clapped as Wallace spun to face him, bowing with a smug smile plastered to his face.
"Brilliant, I loved it!" Steven shouted.
"Thanks! So far you're my number one fan!" Wallace seemed to be a little out of breath from the excited movements he was making to control his pokemon. He plopped himself down on the ground next to Steven, a few strides away from the shore. The boy leaned back, supported himself on his arms, and cast his gaze skyward. It seemed as if the day was coming to a close, the sun just beginning to kiss the edge of the crater in which Sootopolis rested.
"If you say so," Steven remarked, glancing sideways at his new-found friend. He enjoyed the way Wallace was elated by his simple praise.
The two were suspended in silence for only a few heartbeats. "So is Goldeen your only pokemon?"
Wallace huffed. "Yeah, but not for long. One day I'm going to catch a whole bunch! What about you, do you have any pokemon?"
Steven's lips contorted into a proud smirk. "Of course! Check this out!" Steven shoved his hand into the pocket of his cargo shorts and withdrew two pokeballs. He tossed them into the air and from them materialized two steel-type pokemon. Aron fell to the ground with a heavy thud and Buldum remained suspended in the air, letting out a metallic cry that seemed to echo like a steelpan drum.
"Woah, you have two?" Wallace cried amusedly. "I'm so jealous~!"
"Hey, why don't we have a pokemon battle!" Steven bounced at the idea of finally facing off against someone.
"You mean, like the big kids do?" Wallace almost seemed to shy away from the idea.
"Yeah, so? If they can do it, so can we."
"Wow Steven, I don't know about that. Two against one? It doesn't seem fair! Besides, I've never been in a pokemon battle before."
"Neither have I," Steven stated, standing up excitedly, "This can be the first for both of us! Don't worry, I'll go easy on you. I'll only use Aron, and rock-types are weak to water-types."
"How do you know that?" Wallace asked standing up as well, still a little unsure.
"I read lots of books!" Steven said proudly.
"Wow, I can hardly even read." Wallace smiled again.
"Good thing you don't have to read to battle me then!" Steven's face almost hurt with the force of his grin. His very first pokemon battle! With, hopefully, his very first real human friend.
But Wallace's smile faltered. "Er… why don't we have a contest instead?"
"But then who would judge it? And I don't know how to do a contest, I've never been in one before!"
"Well now you know how I feel!" Wallace pouted.
Steven stood his ground, and after a few heartbeats, Wallace slipped out of his resistance. "Okay, fine. We can have a pokemon battle. But if Aron hurts my precious Goldeen, I'll… well I don't know what I'll do, but it won't be good!"
With a fist pump and the point of a finger, Steven sent forth his precious Aron while Beldum levitated on the sidelines and watched. "Alright Aron, just like we practiced! Go!"
Aron leaped forward, tenacious cry crisp under the setting sun.
"Goldeen! Make me proud!" Wallace commanded his pokemon with much less spunk than Steven. If this was a contest, he knew that their enthusiasm would be swapped.
The battle commenced, the first move being made by Steven. A headbutt to Goldeen's side, immediately countered with a bubble beam aimed at Aron's steel forehead. Blow after blow, the battle carried on. It was as heated as a battle between two inexperienced eight-year-olds could possibly be, until a misfire left Steven drenched in water.
"Hey! You did that on purpose!" Steven shouted at Goldeen, feigning anger until his smile broke through his stern expression. "Aron!"
"Arar!" Aron called as he ran towards Wallace, headbutting his trainer's friend into the smooth blue water.
Wallace was thrown, indignantly, off of the shore. Steven laughed mercilessly as Wallace's hands waved frantically in search of something sold. Nothing was found before the boy toppled into the water, breaking the surface with a satisfying splash.
Steven doubled over laughing. When soaked turquoise hair showed itself above the rippling surface, Steven screeched, "You should have seen your face!"
The other boy treaded water discontentedly for a few seconds while Steven laughed, but wasn't just going to take this transgression sitting down. While Steven was distracted by laughter, Wallace clammered out of the water just far enough to reach the other and yanked him down, pulling him into the water with him.
What little of the day was left carried on in this fashion, one boyish shenanigan after another until the sun had sunk out of sight. Too dark to play safely, the two new companions sat on the shore, soaking wet with their pokemon by their sides. Steven felt a pang of sadness when he thought about going back to Rustboro tomorrow, and leaving Wallace for who-knows-how-long.
"It's getting dark, I really need to go inside before my mom gets worried," Wallace began. "Will I see you tomorrow?"
Steven shook his head, his eyes cast down towards the water, where he could see the first few stars reflecting off of the tranquil waves.
"I don't think so. Im going back home tomorrow, my dad's here on a business trip an' he only brought me along because he wanted me to see what it was like being all businessy and stuff. Remember what I told you earlier?"
"Which time?"
"About owning Devon when I grow up," Steven sighed. Wallace nodded, and Steven, after a long day of playing, felt like he could confide in who he considered to be his best human friend at this point. "I've never told anyone this, but I don't really care about all that business stuff. I just want to play with my pokemon and explore." Steven flicked a pebble into the water.
Wallace shrugged, oblivious to Steven's troubles. "Aren't you too little to be learning about grown-up stuff anyways?"
"My dad says I'm smart for my age, and 'they need to start young'. Whatever that means."
Wallace shrugged again. "So does that mean this is goodbye?"
As if on cue, a woman appeared from a doorway a few houses away, calling Wallace's name in the distance.
Steven stood up, immediately followed by the other young trainer. "Pssshh, not forever! My grandma lives in Mossdeep, so maybe when I go to visit her, I can visit you too!"
"Yeah, and I can show you all of the cool new pokemon I'll have by then!"
"Right then, it's a deal. Until next time, Wallace."
"Seeya, Steven!" With that, Wallace galloped off to the house where his mother was waiting, and Steven could hear a woman's voice quietly ask, "Who's your friend?" To which Wallace replied "Oh, just some boy visiting Sootopolis," His voice cut off when the door shut behind him, and Steven was left alone in the dark.
For the first time since this afternoon, he had the opportunity to admire the tranquility of Sootopolis. It was rather fitting, actually, that such a boy would be sown from such a place. Steven shook his head, and without another word, began to trek up to where he was playing earlier to retrieve his forgotten belongings. His pokemon safely tucked away in their pokeballs, he made it to the level he was on earlier and looked at the hole he and Aron had begun to dig.
Steven squinted at the handiwork, unsure what he was expecting to find beneath the surface of the Earth. There was something mysterious about the ground, almost like it was hiding something from him, and he was determined to unravel its secrets. This particular patch of rocky dirt, however, held no such secrets. Steven plucked his bag from the ground and dusted it off. He turned his back to the hole and casually made his way back to the temporary residency where he and his father were staying the night.
Wallace. Did he make an empty promise? Weave a fruitless pact? Or did he really intend on seeing the boy again some day? Steven liked to say that it was going to happen, but only time could really tell. Until that day, Steven swore to become the pokemon trainer he told Wallace he would become, and with that promise to himself, he tightened his grip on his bag and quickened his pace. Steven couldn't wait to tell his father.
.
As Steven grew older, he began to realize that his family wasn't as picturesque as he thought it was. He didn't understand at first. He didn't understand why mom and dad were acting so coldly towards each other. He didn't understand what the little things meant, like when mom would cross her arms defensively, or when dad would start an argument over something useless and trivial. He didn't quite understand the meanings of the hissed "not in front of Steven" when a sensitive topic would surface, or why his mother words would come so sharply, or why his father's tongue was so barbed.
He didn't understand until one night in the fourth grade, when he tirelessly rolled over in his bed and the silver light filtering through the window painted his blue hair white. Sleep was lost on him. Steven pulled himself out of bed… it had been over a year since he had met Wallace in Sootopolis, and the boy was nothing but a distant memory of an amazing day. Steven hardly dwelled on the memory, as there was too much to think about in the present. But tonight, he recalled the boy. He faintly remembered the exchange of words shared between them, the words of hopeful youth spoken on a whim. Nostalgia pinged at his young heart, and Steven intended to stand by the promise he had made.
Unsure of what he wanted, Steven left his room, aimlessly wandering through the large manor in which he lived. Maybe he would go to the kitchen, get a little something to drink, and head back to his room.
As cautious feet padded onward, subtle, muffled voices began to draw his attention to the downstairs study. Tip-toeing down the spiral staircase, his hands glued to the mahogany railing, the voices grew louder and more crisp. It was easy to recognize the razor-sharp tone of a fight; between his parents, of course. He peeked his head into the room to see the back of his mother's standing form, and his father in an armchair smoking a cigar as her razor words berated him.
"I'm his mother, I think I know what's best for him. And what you are doing to that poor boy is not what's best for him!"
"Steven is strong," his father retorted, "He's a smart boy, and a good one too."
They're talking about me, he realized, and an unfamiliar sinking feeling gripped his stomach. It was just like the feeling you get when you get called to the principal's office, unsure of what you could have done wrong. Where they fighting, all because of him? Don't they love each other? Don't they love him? His small fingers gripped tightly to the doorframe.
"Why can't you let him be a boy for once, let him grow up at his own pace!"
His mother's tone was so harsh that Steven had to stop himself from flinching. On the edge of his awareness, Steven knew what the argument was about. But through the filter of boyhood, all he understood was his parents' fighting words.
His father slammed his hand down on the end table with what looked like enough force to break it. "Dammit, woman!" There was only one thing scarier than when dad raised his voice, and that was in this moment, when he raised his voice against his wife. This time, Steven did flinch, and tears began to well up in his eyes. What did she do? What did I do to make dad yell at momma like this?
Mr. Stone stood up defensively. "If you think you―" He stopped, abruptly. His eyes caught Steven's, his voice quieted, and his fist unclenched.
His mother's surprised gaze followed her husband's, and sure enough, she softened as well.
"Steven―" That was all she could eke out before Steven was gone. The young boy bolted up the stairs, not looking behind him as the tears broke away from his eyes. So this was why they were acting so differently lately. It was because of him. He ran into his room and locked the door behind him before collapsing, crying, onto his bed.
He couldn't help the tears, it just made so much sense now- the underlying animosity, the anger, the hatred. It was because of him. He knew it… he heard them say it themselves. These past few months of this vexing displeasure, this enmity… he understood very clearly.
His mother never comes to his door to comfort him that night. He doesn't know whether or not he wanted her to.
That night, Steven feels alone.
That night, Steven cries himself to sleep.
.
When Steven was ten years old, His mother finally explained to him what was going on.
She cupped his face as she explained. "Steven, honey, mommy is taking you to live with grandma in Mossdeep city. You remember grandma, right?"
Steven nodded. It had been a really long time since he saw her, but he did remember.
"Daddy won't be coming with us," she continued. This made the young boy a little nervous.
"What do you mean? Where is dad going?" His voice was panicked, yet his tone was level.
"Your father is going to stay here for a little while, while we go away. It will be kind of like a vacation."
Confusion wracked Steven, but he had little say in the matter. His insides burned with uncertainty, but his outsides felt cold and numb. This was no vacation, he was old enough to understand that something was wrong. Over the last few years, he came to realize that the relationship between his mother and his father was falling apart, and divorce was on the horizon. Heck, it might already be finalized, for all he knew. After all, the child was usually the last to know when divorce was in the cards.
He didn't want to ask about it. Instead, he voiced his concerns to his pokemon on the boat ride to Mossdeep.
"I don't like being kept in the dark," he complained to Buldum, his trusty friend. That was one more thing Steven adored about Steel types. They were always so reliable, a strong force to lean on, and good listeners to boot. "I know mom is just trying to protect me, but it just makes the whole thing so much more confusing." He furrowed his eyebrows, resting his chin on the second bar of the railing of the ship. His legs kicked over this side and tangled his body with the railing; he was just close enough to the water to feel the ocean spray lightly dusting his face. Steven was no stranger to water― no matter how earthily-inclined he was, he still resided on a tropical island.
Beldum mumbled a reply in a language that Steven will never fully know. He sighed, sort of understanding what Beldum meant.
"I don't really want to ask, though." His fingernail clicked impatiently against the steel railing. "I don't want to sound nosy, or impatient, or stupid, like I don't know what's going on." Even though I don't, he added silently to himself.
He had a vague idea. But nothing concrete to grasp onto, nothing solid. Nothing to grab onto as he fell further and further away from both of his parents, this lurking quandary isolating all three of them.
Beldum made a few metallic noises that Steven translated to be agreement.
Resting his cheek on the railing and gazing somewhat longingly into the dark water below, the troubled Steven discarded his thoughts. He decided it best to wait for normalcy to return. Some may call it bottling up, or procrastinating, but Steven preferred to call it patience.
.
A few months later, on his eleventh birthday, Steven Stone was granted independence. A steady relationship had begun to form between him and his parents, and now that he had freedom, he could visit his father whenever he pleased. But first, he was determined to explore every nook and cranny of the islands surrounding Mossdeep. After all, he last saw his father only a week ago.
Weeks of training on the beaches of Mossdeep had given Steven many things. First and foremost, he was given his Metang. Steven had been feeling it in his gut for days before it finally happened; he just knew that Beldum's evolution was right around the corner. In the moment that it happened, Steven couldn't imagine himself feeling as proud as that ever again.
Second, he was granted an extreme appreciation for the sea. The sea. The sloshing, violent, soothing, crazy mass of water that sustained island life. It was as much of a mystery to Steven as the ground that held buried treasure and precious gemstones, only a lot more dangerous in his eyes. However, there was only so much je ne sais quoi the ocean could offer. No matter how much he admired the strength and prowess of the ocean, he would always be a rock person at heart.
At the moment, he was speeding towards the endless horizon, gripping tightly to the steel arms of his Metang as the pokemon left a wake in the water behind him, despite the fact that they were hovering a good three feet off of the surface of the rippling ocean. He knew that Metang had the capability to reach up to 60 miles per hour, but young Steven was convinced that they were going even faster than that. His smile was wide as his blue eyes captured everything stretching before the two best friends. His hair whipped in the salty sea wind as his white knuckles dared not to let go of Metang's arms. This was the adventure that he had been craving for years. This was the beginning of the best adventure of his life, he was sure of it. And well, he was not wrong.
.
Within a few days of his freedom, Steven discovered Shoal Cave. And in Shoal Cave, Steven discovered himself.
All his life Steven felt inclined to dig holes, and now before him was the biggest hole he had ever seen, and it was already dug for him. Hours upon hours were spent carefully upturning rocks in Shoal Cave. Hours transformed into days, and before he knew it , the days had transformed into weeks.
At eleven years old, the pampered heir to Devon Corporation was wallowing in the low tide of Shoal Cave. And it certainly paid off― in his eyes, anyways. When Steven finally deemed the frosty cave 100% explored, his haul included several handfuls of beautiful gems, unique rocks, and dazzling crystals. He stored them in his room in Mossdeep, with his mother and grandmother serving as guard dogs. He would examine them carefully at a later date, maybe after he learned a thing or two about different kinds of rocks. Until then, nothing was keeping the amature geologist from seeking out more adventure, namely, more caves.
Except for maybe one thing.
It was a particularly sunny day months after discovering Shoal Cave, and instead of zipping across the waves like they usually did, Steven and Metang drifted lazily over the water, low enough for the boy's hand to slice through the rippling sea. Metang seemed to also take advantage of the lazy day, its claws cutting through the water with just as much ease as its trainer's. Steven shifted himself atop Metang's hard, steel body with the unfortunate realization that he might be getting a little too big to fit comfortably on top of his pokemon for very much longer.
"Hey Metang," he started, but was unable to finish due to the distant sound of screaming and splashing making itself known to the duo. They both noticed it at the same time, and they both pointed themselves at the source of the sound.
There it was, a figure slicing across the horizon like he and Metang are often known to do, only this figure was serpentine and blue, and its rider was screaming. It wasn't a bad scream, Steven thought, but a joyous one. More like a whoop, if you will. This trainer and his pokemon, a Gyarados, seemed to be having a great deal of fun.
Steven took a familiar position atop Metang, and the pokemon zoomed off, leaving wakes in the water. Maybe they would be up for a pokemon battle!
As Steven drew closer, he realized that, at this rate, he was doomed to intersect the other trainer perpendicularly. But before the intersection came, both of their pokemon started slowing down, before finally stopping. The trainers both met each other's eyes. The flash of green hair was what really caught Steven's attention. Flashbacks flooded his mind, an entire day's worth of memories running behind his eyes in a moment. His smile fell to a look of disbelief. Of course! The boy from the business trip to Sootopolis! Sootopolis was, after all, right across this waterway! He cursed himself for not thinking of Wallace even once since he moved to Mossdeep.
"Wallace?" he called questioningly across the distance between them, not daring to close it until his speculations were confirmed. With a jolt, he realized that he still remembered this boy's name after three eventful years. He remembered it like he had known it forever. He thought he could see eyes squinting on the other side before his call was returned.
"Steven?"
The reply almost made Steven feel a little hollow, but in the best of ways. They remained locked in place for more moments than either of them paid attention to, until Wallace finally broke the stalemate with a friendly wave and a toothy smile.
"Long time, no see, huh?"
Steven smiled. "Yeah."