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Brassius had been in love with Hassel for a very long time.
There was no one event that triggered the butterflies that burst in his chest at every laugh from the other man, but he was sure it happened when he had found himself in the hospital. Brassius had never liked hospitals, but then again, who did? They were cold, quiet, and often lonely. Don’t get him wrong, Brassius did enjoy his time alone and preferred to avoid social gatherings if he was able – but not having anyone to sit by his hospital bed was a different kind of lonely. The nurses were hushed and quiet when they whispered about him, sending pitiful glances his way. They didn’t even want to spend time with him, and how could he blame them? He wasn’t exactly a joy to be around.
His own thoughts had been disturbed at the door suddenly swinging open, making the nurse checking his vitals jump. He didn’t have much energy to pay mind to who had suddenly burst into his room, having assumed they got the wrong room and would quickly slip away. It had happened before, and even though he would never admit it out loud, Brassius had hung his head in shame. Who would want to visit him? It's not as if he was very welcoming, and he knew he could be off-putting. It was only when he heard the voice did he look over to the door.
“There you are! Can you believe they gave me the wrong room number?” Hassle had always had a unique voice that lifted the spirits of any room, even a dreadfully sorrowful hospital room. The man was so full of emotion it made Brassius want to cry, and maybe he had, judging by the way Hassel quickly made his way over and sat on the edge of the bed, giving the nurse the opportunity to slip out. “I am terribly sorry I am late.” His voice dropped to a quiet tone as if he was a startled child, and frankly, he felt as if he was. He felt frail and sickly and attention-starved, as if he was a young boy being neglected by his parents.
“It’s quite alright. I didn’t expect any visitors anyhow.” He responded after a moment of collecting himself. That didn’t seem to be an adequate answer as Hassel frowned, his eyebrows scrunching as they always did when he entered deep consideration. If they hadn't been in a hospital, Brassius would have found it endearing.
“You can always expect me,” Hassel said softly. “I will always be there.”
The room had stayed quiet for a moment as Brassius had closed his eyes, too many emotions and thoughts running around. The other man didn’t move from his spot on the side of the bed, staying silent. Hassel always knew when Brassius needed a moment to himself; it was one reason he enjoyed the company of the other so much. He had other colleagues, sure, but they felt he was off-putting and awkward. And well, Brassius couldn’t deny that he was. That never seemed to matter to Hassel; in fact, it seemed to only spur him on to befriend the quiet Pokémon trainer.
“I do not think I can keep going down this path,” he eventually spoke, his voice scratchy and broken. “I do not think I can be an artist.”
“Well, that’s just absurd,” Hassel responded with a huff, causing Brassius to open his eyes slightly and watch the other man. He stayed quiet as Hassel gathered his thoughts, his fingers lightly tapping on the blanket next to his leg. “I have never met anyone else as capable and talented as you.”
Something sparked in Brassius, a fleeting thought of hope that he had not had in many months. Brassius wasn’t sure if he could grab onto the hope and hold onto it. In that moment, he wanted to reach out to Hassel and grasp onto him before the other man suddenly perked up and jumped up with a small exclamation.
"Oh! I must show you what I found outside your home. It was sickly, and I feared the worst.” He pulled a Pokéball and cradled it in his hands with a fond smile on his face. He then glanced over his shoulders to confirm the door was closed, and he gently placed the Pokéball into his hand, the fond smile never leaving his face. “The poor thing just needed some attention, I’m sure of it.” Brassius furrowed his brows and looked to the other man, confusion clear on his features, and Hassel huffed a small laugh. “Go on.”
With the encouragement, he opened the Pokéball. The flash of light was gone as quickly as it was there, revealing a small sleeping Sunflora. The Sunflora was much smaller than a standard one, fitting in his cupped hands. The petals weren’t as vibrant, and the leaves were ripped and torn. Brassius wondered what the poor thing must have looked like before Hassel had found it. The small Pokémon eventually did stir, raising its head and looking up at him, and the smile spreading along his face. The small, petite Pokémon then laid its head back down and continued its rest. Brassius watched its tiny form continue its rest before looking up to Hassel, who beamed at him.
“A Sunflora,” he said softly, and Hassel nodded, tears suddenly springing to his eyes.
“The poor thing was just sitting on your doorstep,” Hassel said softly, “as if it was waiting for you.”
Two months later, Surrendering Sunflora was started.
-
Brassius stood in his kitchen next to the window that overlooked the garden, the small Sunflora sitting on the edge of the counter kicking its feet. Over the course of two months, the small Pokémon had grown to thrive, with only one of the petals having not come back from the horrid condition. It didn't seem to upset the Pokémon, though, as it always smiled and hummed happily as it stayed by his side - never too far from the artist. The Sunflora attempted to shuffle closer to him and swayed, falling off the counter. Brassius gasped and moved quickly, catching the small Pokémon, cradling the small Sunflora in his hands. “Careful, Solros,” he said gently, “You’re going to give me a heart attack.” He murmured to himself, placing him back on the counter.
The two stayed silent for a moment longer, the Sunflora bouncing happily as Brassius stared out the window. The sunlight felt good on his pale features, and he couldn't help but feel at ease in this moment. He let out a relieved sigh, his shoulders relaxing just slightly as his eyes closed. For a long moment, the green-haired man stayed like that, just existing. A firm knock at his door caused him to open his eyes - the Sunflora next to him cheering and bouncing happily as if knowing who exactly is at the door.
Picking up the Sunflora and setting it on his shoulder, he walked to the front door, opening the door to his colleague. The small smile on his face slowly fell as he noticed the firm and sorrowful expression. “Oh, Hassle. Are you alright?” He asked softly, and the man met his eyes and sighed heavily.
“Brassius,” he said softly. “I found it on my walk this morning. Nurse Joy did all she could.” It wasn't until then that Brassius realized a small Oddish was sleeping in the other man's hands. Much like the Sunflora that sat perched on his shoulder, it was smaller than standard, and its leaves were in horrible condition. The edges of the leaves were brown and curling, as if they had been too close to a fire. The Oddish slept soundly, the body color more magenta than the standard blue. Brassius stared at the small Pokémon, his brain still trying to process what was happening. “You helped the Sunflora so I assumed…” Hassle filled the silence before he trailed off, the words hanging in the air.
“I am not a Pokémon nurse,” Brassius said softly, carefully reaching out and taking the Oddish from the other man's hands anyhow. The Oddish stirred slightly, giving a small noise akin to a whimper as it opened its eyes and blinked at the man. Its eyes flickered to the Sunflora, who waved down at the smaller Pokémon. The Oddish smiled softly, and its eyes fluttered closed as it fell back to sleep, nuzzling against his hands.
“I know,” Hassle said. “But the little lad just needs a little love!” His joyous personality seemed to come back at the sight of the Oddish accepting Brassius. Brassius couldn't help but smile, turning into his home and leaving the door open as an invitation to Hassle, who took it and followed in.
“I will do what I can,” Brassius said, heading to the living area to gather some blankets for the small Oddish to sleep soundly in. He took a closer look at the leaves, feeling relieved that most still had a green color - he was sure they would be able to come back from their awful condition. “Where are you finding these injured Pokémon?” He asked, looking over his shoulder at the blonde man, who shrugged.
“I feel as if they seem to find me,” he replied easily, watching as Brassius created a small blanketed area on his couch to rest the Oddish in. He added, “I seem to attract those who need help.” He added with a laugh, and Brassius couldn't help but think of himself.
“Yes, I suppose you do.”
-
The feelings for the tall, blonde-haired man only seemed to grow over the course of the next four months. Hassle visited often as the Oddish grew, every time happily exclaiming at the progress of the tiny Pokémon. Every time without fail, he would pick the small Oddish up and compliment its beautiful leaves and compliment Hassle for taking care of the sickly Pokémon. And without fail, every time, Brassius hid the blush on his face.
The Oddish and Sunflora always cheered and danced when Hassel visited, but at the slight mention of even leaving the artist's side, they quieted and hid. It was a bemusing sight, the Sunflora hiding behind a potted plant and the Oddish peeking out from under the couch. Hassle had laughed loudly, and even Brassius had to hide a chuckle behind his fist. He was quick to reassure the two Pokémon that they didn't have to go anywhere and they were welcome to stay by his side. Hassle had suggested he officially add them to his Pokémon party, but Brassius couldn't bring himself to accept the idea. The two Pokémon had already gone through so much he didn't want to bring harm to them once more. Hassle had accepted his hesitant response but encouraged him to keep an open mind.
The two Pokémon had grown fond of cooking, even if Brassius himself was no good at it. He had purchased a cookbook and started with smaller recipes, the two Pokémon looking at the book as if they could read the words written. The Oddish was ever so happy to push anything he needed towards him - this did cause a few items falling to the ground and many messes, but the Oddish always seemed bashful and remorseful, so Brassius couldn't get too mad - and the Sunflora was more keen on using its petals to pick things up. Brassius often caught him picking up random things around the kitchen and just holding them, just in case he would need it.
It was a beautiful day, with the sunrays spilling into the kitchen and the backdoor open to allow fresh air to leak in. The three were in the kitchen cooking when Hassel knocked on the door and opened it, stepping inside. The Oddish had just accidentally knocked the whole jar of flour onto the ground, and Brassius was working on soothing the panicked Pokémon. The Sunflora stood nearby, clutching a salt shaker. He grabbed a broom to begin cleaning. “We are in here, Hassel,” he called even though the other man had already made his way into the kitchen with a raised eyebrow.
“Last time I asked to cook with you, you told me you were known to burn everything you touched!” the man huffed in a fake downcast tone. Brassius gave a small chuckle - something he found himself doing more often around Hassel - and he knelt to sweep the flour into the dustpan.
“That is why I have Solros and Disa to help me,” he said. At the mention of their names, the Pokémon perked up in pride. “They seem to like making messes, though,” he chastised lightly, and the Oddish ducked behind the Sunflora as if to hide itself. The Oddish wasn't much smaller than the Sunflora, but it seemed to rely on the bigger Pokémon to protect it.
Brassius stood with the dustpan and turned to Hassel before pausing in his journey to clean the kitchen mess. Once again, Hassel held a Pokémon. Brassius recognized the Cherrim in its overcast form - which was odd, seeing as there was plenty of sunlight out still and sun rays were spilling into the kitchen from the window. The Cherrim was much bigger than the other Pokémon he had brought home; the other man having to practically cradle it like a child. He held back a sad sigh and dumped the mess into the trash. “You know if you want to see me, there is no need to bring injured Pokémon,” Brassius teased gently, “My home is open to you.”
The blonde-haired Pokémon trainer huffed a quiet laugh, one of Brassius' favorite sounds. It was often reserved for Brassius when he told a quiet joke or one of the small Pokémon did something endearing. Every time he heard the noise, it caused his chest to clench and spin, the butterflies ever so violently flapping in his stomach and chest. Hassel took a few steps forward, and Brassius tilted his head to examine the Pokémon. “Of course I know that, Brassius! It just happens that injured Pokémon seem to take a liking to you.” He teased back. “This little fella is in good condition! Nurse Joy suggests he's simply lonely and needs some help opening up.”
The artist was skeptical as he looked over the Pokémon but became content when he didn't see any obvious markings or damage. He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by two certain Pokémon suddenly making a racket. He huffed and turned to the two still on the counter, bouncing. “Yes, yes, give me a moment!” He hurried over to the counter to help them down onto the floor. The moment the small Pokémon were on the floor, they rushed over to Hassel, bouncing happily, but instead of paying the man any attention, they were focused on the Pokémon in his arms.
“Alright you two! Calm down before you scare it,” Brassius scolded, and the two Pokémon obeyed. Their excitement was clear by the way they nearly vibrated at the other mans feet. Hassel laughed happily at the excitement of the two Pokémon. He wouldn't have believed anyone if they told him these two Pokémon were once sick and in need of care.
“You have done a wonderful job, Brassius,” he commended softly. The man in question blushed brightly and turned away. Compliments were still hard for him to accept, as he often only got them related to his artwork and not to himself. It was something he recognized his friend had started doing much more often lately as well.
“Alright you two back up so I can set him down!” Hassel instructed, and the two Pokémon obeyed. Carefully, he set the Cherrim down, which teetered from side to side, peeking out from behind the long purple leaves. The Sunflora happily waved, and the Oddish bounced happily by its side. “Well, look at that! Looks like you already made two friends!” He kneeled next to the Pokémon and nudged it slightly. It looked to Hassel then back to the two Pokémon. The two Pokémon ushered the Cherrim through the open backdoor and into the garden, the two men watched them go.
Hassel rose from the ground and the two moved into the kitchen to watch them through the kitchen window. They stood there in silence for a moment, watching the 2 smaller pokemon kick a ball to the cherrim and encourage it to kick back, cheering once it did. It was a pleasant site and for the first time in months Brassius felt whole. He felt like he finally belonged and he finally had a purpose. And it was all thanks to Hassel.
"Thank you," Hassel said gently, startling the artist, a surprised laugh bubbling from his chest.
"For what?" He demanded, turning slightly so he could watch the other's expressions. It hit him suddenly how beautiful the other man was with the flourishing sunlight illuminating his golden eyes that shone with determination and happiness. Their golden eyes met, and Hassel beamed at him.
"For giving them a chance."
The sentence shook the artist, and all he could do was turn back to watch the three Pokémon in the garden. Slowly and gently, he rested his head on the other's shoulder. Hassel didn't move at the action, and they both stayed still, watching the sun set behind the beautiful garden and the three Pokémon happily dancing through the flowers.
("What were you even trying to make!?" Hassel bellowed a laugh as he looked at the abandoned bowl filled with a wet flour mixture. Brassius gave a deep sigh and shook his head at the failed attempts at a cake. "And why is there a full salt shaker in it?")
-
It took a full month for the Cherim to fully open up.
Hassel visited every other day and often just sat in the garden with Brassius, watching the three Pokémon play. Sometimes he brought little toys for them to play with or even treats for all five of them to share. Brassius accused him of bribing them for his love and affection, and Hassel had just laughed and said, "Well, it's working, isn't it?" He could have sworn it was followed by a wink.
The Cherim had become fond of sitting on his lap while he sat at the kitchen table or worked on a piece of art. The other two smaller Pokémon were never too far but preferred the soft blankets and pillows that now littered his home. He swore somehow the Pokémon were creating soft blankets out of thin air—until he caught Hassel bringing another one into the home. The man had at least looked bashful as he explained he couldn't help himself; they deserved all the soft blankets. Brassius had jokingly threatened the man that if he brought another blanket into his home, he wasn't allowed back. Hassel had laughed, and with a smirk, he leaned close and asked him what he would get if he listened.
Brassius had blushed for three hours after the other man had left, the Pokémon watching him with an unimpressed look.
On Brassius' birthday, he woke to the fire alarm blaring in his kitchen.
He stumbled out of his bedroom, tripping over multiple blankets strewn across the floor, and into the kitchen. For a moment, he just gaped at the sight in front of him. It appeared that the three Pokémon had pushed a chair from the table to the counter and climbed up it, attempting to cook something, but that something appeared to be burning. He rushed forward and grabbed the pan, shoving it under the sink and turning on the faucet. Then, in a hurry, he opened the window and silenced the alarm. With the immediate threat out of the way, he turned to check on the three Pokémon.
In his panic, he had nearly missed the Cherim in its sunshine form.
Brassius sat on the kitchen floor to regain himself, the three Pokémon now safe on the floor and looking bashful and ashamed. The kitchen was a mess, littered with spilled milk, flour, and several eggs and eggshells were on the counter, dripping onto the floor. It was clear the three Pokémon had tried to cook him a birthday breakfast, and now here he was sitting in a mess.
“Well,” he said softly, “What have we learned today?” He watched the three Pokémon bow their heads. “No cooking without me present,” he continued. “I very much appreciate the sentiment. Thank you.” The three Pokémon seemed to perk up at that, and they made their way over to him, climbing him with happy noises. He laughed and accepted the onslaught of love from them.
He was still sitting on the kitchen floor with the mess surrounding him when there was a knock at the door, and Hassel stepped into the kitchen. Brassius didn't even bother to call out to him or stand, waiting for the blonde-haired man to step into the kitchen himself, freezing in the doorway. Brassius couldn't help but laugh at his expression, the three Pokémon happily cheering at the sight of Hassel. Hassel beamed at the three Pokémon and gasped happily at the Cherim, who waved up at him and spun in a happy circle as if to show off. He kneeled down and patted the Cherim on the head as a silent congratulations.
“I thought you said you were getting better at cooking?” Hassel finally said as he stood and surveyed the kitchen, slightly impressed at how many eggs were stuck to the walls and cracked on the counters.
“I believe a surprise birthday breakfast didn't go according to plan,” he responded as he looked up to him, remaining seated on the floor. Hassel laughed.
“Well, you three, it seems like we have a mess to clean. Why don't you go play in the garden?” He instructed, moving to open the back door. The three Pokémon easily agreed and slipped out to go play. He then moved further into the kitchen and held out a hand to Brassius, who took it and stood. They then together began their mission to clean the kitchen. It took them an hour to finally get everything clean, and Brassius ended up throwing away the pan the Pokémon had attempted to use, as whatever was on it was completely burnt to the bottom. Thankfully, two eggs seemed to have been saved from the egg disaster, and Hassel ushered Brassius to sit while he cooked breakfast for them, which they enjoyed in silence.
With a clean kitchen and full stomachs, the two moved to the garden, sitting in their spot as they watched the three play. They stayed silent as they sat together, just enjoying each other's presence. Brassius picked up that Hassel seemed slightly nervous, shifting multiple times and rubbing the back of his neck. He knew that sometimes what one needed was time to process their thoughts before vocalizing them, so he let them sit quietly together.
“I think it's time I give you your gift,” Hassel finally announced. Brassius turned his head to look at him and smiled fondly.
“Is that what has got you so nervous? You know I will thoroughly enjoy anything you give me,” he said softly. Hassel gave a weak laugh.
“Am I really that obvious?” Hassel responded gently with a faint blush before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a Pokéball, holding it out to the artist. For a moment, the artist stared at it, thoughts of the hospital and the first injured Pokémon swirling in his thoughts. He then looked up to Hassel.
“If your gift to me is another injured Pokémon, you might need to relearn the definition of a gift,” he said softly, reaching out to take the Pokéball and cradling it gently. Hassel shook his head in amusement, watching as the other's hands gently brushed across the surface.
“Go on,” he urged gently, and with one glance to his friend, Brassius opened the Pokéball. The familiar flash filled the garden, and Brassius watched in awe as the Pokéball faded, and in its place was an Applin. The Pokémon gave a small happy noise and rocked back and forth as it stared up at the two, and Brassius felt all the breath leave his lungs. He stared at the Pokémon for a long moment, almost scared that he was interpreting things wrong. He finally looked over to Hassel, who watched him with a nervous smile and a faint blush on his cheeks.
“Hassel, you don't mean-” he cut himself off, covering his mouth with his hand in shock, and Hassel rubbed the back of his neck and took in a deep breath.
“You are a brilliant man, Brassius. You are insanely caring and determined, and I seem to have found myself falling for y-” his sentence was cut off with a surprised sound as Brassius practically tackled him, throwing his arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. Hassel laughed into the kiss before pulling Brassius closer and kissing back.
“I love you, Hassel.”
The Pokémon all cheered as if to say 'Finally'