Sunlight was the worst torture on a hangover. Especially a hangover that collided with leftover drunkenness and vomiting.
"Turn off the window." A wretched plea. "It's pounding my head. Please make it stop."
"Proton. Honey. I can't turn off the sun."
A velvet, gentle reminder that made the Team Rocket Executive pop his head up from the pillow. His blurry vision could make out his handsome companion: red-hair, brown eyes, brilliant smile, and muscles for days. A steaming cup of coffee.
Does he ever stop being a morning person? Even after drinking so much?
"Then buy curtains." Proton grumbled, sticking his head back into his sanctuary. "I keep telling you to do that. If you want me to stay here more often, you have to—"
"You already stay here, love."
"You know what I mean, Lance!"
A chuckle, "Proton. Sweetie. Let me get you some coffee. Perk you right up."
Perk. After last night, Proton got plenty of perks already. Drinking on a free tab, relishing the stares of jealous bitches, making out, and enjoying the drunk, rough, passionate sex with the man he wanted more than anything else in the world.
Ever since the two started dating, after a long and violent courtship that involved bribery, coercion, intimacy, and kidnapping, Proton had never felt better. Lance cared for him deeply, bringing him around to the idea of a "healthy" relationship that was built on trust and respect.
Proton brought Lance around to the idea of "hedonism". It earned him a permanent place in the dragon tamer's bedroom.
"I will puke." A threat. "Don't baby me. You know I don't like it."
Actually, Proton loved it. He loved Lance taking care of him. Didn't want to ruin his hardcore reputation, though. Proton was the scariest and cruelest Executive, not the punk bitch Executive.
"Alright. Let me know if you change your mind. Do you remember anything from last night?"
The brush of the pillow fabric made Proton's head spin. Last night. Drinking until he blacked out. Dancing until he pulled off Lance's belt. Sex in the bar bathroom. Sex in the car after they got kicked out. Puking on Lance's wheel-well.
Not much else. "Not a lot. Why? Did I send a dirty fax to your line again?"
"No. Not this time. Rest, sweetie. You had a big night."
Proton scoffed, trying to block out the pounding in his temples. "Must have been a good night. Ugh. Is there water?"
"Right next to you." Lance seemed chipper, all things considered. Proton grabbed the cold bottle, taking a swig before putting his head back down. He could sleep until noon, get some greasy lunch, and settle his stomach.
His boyfriend will stay home today to take care of him. Giddiness swelled in his toes, forcing Proton from wiggling them in excitement. Maybe Lance will draw him a bath and sit with him. Or give him a massage. Even buy him an expensive present.
"Don't take advantage of me. I'm not feeling well." Proton warned him, even though he secretly wished Lance would pin him down, "I mean it. I'll hurt you."
"Of course." Lance's answer was smooth, playing along. "Anything you want."
It wasn't like the famed Champion got nothing from it. Proton was there for him and came to him when Lance needed a break. He also got to fulfill his caretaker needs and dote upon a man he cared for. Proton, for all of his protesting, was Lance's spoiled boyfriend who got whatever he wanted.
And the sex, of course. Petrel still didn't believe Proton's story about the time the couple went apple-picking, even though Proton had the photo evidence to prove it.
His weekend was free. Maybe they can go again.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Proton flared up, peeking out and seeing Lance stare at him. "What are you, homo? Take a picture, it'll last longer."
Lance smiled over his coffee mug, "I love you, Proton."
Proton cocked his head up now, stunned. Did he hear him wrong? Did Lance really just say…?"
"Why would you say that?" His words stammered, his lip trembling, "That's hurtful. Why? If I wasn't drunk, I'd shoot you. You're the fucking worst. I hate you."
"I love you." Lance pressed, his smile still plastered across that stupid handsome face. "I love you so much."
Proton felt a catch, as if vomit was crawling back up. Fuck. He was too hungover. Why did Lance always pick the worst times to drop bombs like this? He would be more prepared to defend himself. To deter Lance. He would be…
"You don't. You don't love me." Nobody loves Proton. He's a fuck toy. He knows his position in Lance's world. Feelings of inadequacy gnawed again. A Champion deserves another equally famous Champion so they can have even more famous Champion brats. The label 'boyfriend' was just for show.
Lance put his drink down, cuddling and embracing his lover. "I love you. You're all mine. Don't think I will let you go either. Now. You can either accept this willingly or I will make you accept it against your will."
Proton couldn't bring himself to look at him directly. "I drink too much and this is your punishment? You could have just fucked me and not let me-"
"There's no punishment. I love you." Lance repeated, stroking his cheek. "Let me love you. You have the world at your feet, Proton, and me at your beck and call."
Worry built up in the Executive's face. He was too hung-over for this. But Lance kissed him, alcohol breath and mouthwash mixing, and Proton melted again. He loved him. He loved him.
Feelings sprang up again. Damn it. Of course Lance disarms him by making Proton catch feelings. But those emotions were there from long ago and only grow when his adoring Champion is near.
However, Proton couldn't let his reputation die. Even Lance knows the rules. In a few days, Proton knew he'd slip up and say it back. Maybe over a stupid fax or a cooked dinner for two. Perhaps even when Lance opens a jar of pickles for him or bails him out of a police capture.
His boyfriend rolled his eyes as happiness surged through his soul, firing off snarky remarks as the procedure dictates.
"You love me? So gay. I guess anyone could fall in love with me. But really, you're embarrassing me with that emotional stuff. You said it first, like a real desperate loser. Can't you be more of a man and…?"
But as the Executive rattled off more teasing, Lance knew. He knew that when Proton was drunk, vulnerable, and insecure last night, he whispered the three words to him. Held onto Lance's shoulders and threatened to kill him if he so much as looked at another person. Demanded a blood contract that would prevent Lance from leaving him.
"I love you. I love you, you jerk. You bastard. You're ruining me. Your butt is cute to look at in the mornings. Let me throw up. Hold my hair back. Why haven't you said it to me yet? I love you. I love you…"
It was best to pretend that Lance said it first, so Proton would feel comfortable in receiving the message. Maybe one day, the Dragon Champion will tell him the truth and let him wallow in his moment of human connection.
Right now, it was fine.
They were both happy, and Lance knew Proton was waiting for a ring. It wouldn't be long before the esteemed trainer would ponder over a jewelry case, wondering which one to get. Or Proton hiding his squeal of joy when Lance popped open the ring box.
There are rules and traditions in this world they shared. Sacred as the stone that Arceus carved millions of years ago.
Sunlight stopped bothering Proton now that he could see his Lance in it.