Pokémon 1. Chapter 1

Super cracky pairing in this, not sure how this came to me, but I like snarky romance, so I ran with it. Story contains a lot of things not Cheren/Marley, and has lots of het, yaoi, and yuri spread throughout that does not involve her at all. Enjoy.

I never knew how much I hated boats until I spent a week in them.

The ferry between Snowpoint and Sinnoh's Battle Zone sat in the docks idly as just under a hundred passengers disembarked, all lightly bronzed from the midsummer sun and hauling near-identical backpacks with them; those heavy-duty hiking packs meant for long trips, save for some who had smaller backpacks or even large purses. Every one of them was a Pokemon trainer, and most were pretty good-that was a requirement, really. Anybody who didn't at least have a nice collection of gym badges wouldn't even make it through the preliminary qualifier. In that sense, the Battle Frontier was even more exclusive than the Elite Four. You didn't get into these tournaments by collecting bottle caps.

Back home in Unova, we had the Battle Subway. Not nearly so prestigious, and run by two twins with enough issues between them to challenge modern psychology for a few years. All levels of trainer came and weren't really separated, which made dominating it as a Pokemon League champion a breeze. Nimbasa provided me with no challenge, and it ended the same for my friends, White and-to my surprise-Bianca. We needed more, hence the journey to Sinnoh.

"See Cheren, that wasn't so bad," White said cheerily, though stretching that followed betrayed her comfort. She was a wiry girl, tomboyish and energetic, sometimes proving a little more masculine than I at things. Her usual getup of a black vest, white shirt, and a a pair of short shorts may have been fine back home, but even during the summer, Snowpoint was a cold place. It was only then, under the warm sun that she shed the tacky parka she bought in Snowpoint. Her brown hair was tied into some kind of ponytail thing that stuck out the back of her baseball cap.

I scoffed, "We spent six days on a boat just to get to Sinnoh, then another day to get here. In that week, Bianca could have overcome her fear of flying and we'd have a few days to spare."

A wordless sound, something like a small child disagreeing with their parent, came from behind White. No longer shielded from my vision by the bulky parka, Bianca grumbled a little. Standing next to the tomboy, her long white skirt, matching shirt, and frilly orange vest looked even girlier than usual. Her blond hair had this strange, curved bounce to it probably helped by the green hat always atop her head, save for two clumps that curved up like horns or wings or something. I was convinced one day they would start moving and she'd fly off; from Bianca, it wouldn't be a surprise. White had this confident sureness to her, while Bianca seemed a lot less sure, but a lot more enthusiastic.

About everything.

Almost everything, at least. What few things she wasn't brimming with excitement over seemed to make things more difficult than her over-excitement and tendency to-quite literally-run right into problems. One of them, surprisingly, was flying; she was absolutely terrified of getting on a plane. That made going halfway across the globe a bit of a problem, costing me a week of my life in the process. The various boat rides did not set the trip off on the right foot, and I was more than a little frustrated at Bianca for it.

"I feel weird being off the ground," she said, trying her best to readjust the shoulder strap on her bag nonchalantly.

Another scoff, and I adjusted my own shoulders to make the straps on my backpack more comfortable as White motioned for us to start walking. "Of course, can't be so high that the air pressure is even outside the plane and in your head."

The insult soared right by Bianca, but White caught it and a swift smack across the back of my head made lean forward a little. It felt a bit wrong sometimes, sarcastically mocking a girl who sometimes couldn't even tell I was insulting her, but boy was she asking for it sometimes. Still, I begrudgingly shut my mouth to keep White from hitting me again, since she tended to start with a smack and build up to things it hurt just thinking about. My fingers clumsily undid the middle button on my jacket to let it open up-we were far enough from Snowpoint for it to feel warm again.

Bianca let out a gasp as she marvelled at the island's main attraction looming in the distance. The immense complex of the Battle Frontier seemed overwhelming even from the docks, like the pleasure dome rising up from Xanadu. The opulent turrets of the battle castle peeked out over the walls separating the frontier proper from the outside world, almost masturbatory in how utterly beautiful they were, belonging on some scenic countryside instead of being a tourist trap and battle arena. The other structure to rise up over the walls was the battle tower, much more practical in its design, but still more lavish than any sky scrapers back home. It boasted its presence to the world for miles away, voyeuristically watching over the entire island. The sights that lay just beyond the walls were surely just as beautiful, if not more so. I couldn't even fathom the years of dedication and genius that went into making it as majestic as it now stood before me.

"It looks alright," I muttered, continuing to walk forward while Bianca stopped a moment to take things in. White slowed down too, hurrying Bianca when I started to get too far ahead.

At the gates, our trek slowed considerably as all the trainers from the boat lined up. In the past year or so, new standards were added to the frontier, requiring trainers to pass certain tests in order to host only trainers who had proven themselves. Without showing they had all eight gym badges from at least one region, they wouldn't even be allowed into the complex proper. Just that wouldn't be enough to become a fully-fledged contender, but it would start us on the road to it. The registration line killed our brisk pace immediately, and even with our hurried walk over, we were still twenty or so trainers back from the front of the line.

My hands dug into the pockets of my jacket and I leaned against a solid, light grey wall. We waited in relative silence-Bianca made a few impatient complaints every now and then-as a week of uneventful boat rides exhausted virtually all grounds for conversation. We had been friends so long though, that a week of talking made a subsequent hour of silence feel natural, and being on ground made the hour fly right group of three trainers in front of us were all from the same podunk Sinnoh town and had about seven badges between them, but felt it necessary to make a scene and proclaim they were still great trainers who wanted to cut out the middleman of gym leader fights and rock faces on the big stage.

"I'm going to be the best!" the apparent leader exclaimed. "I am the best! Let me in and I'll prove it. Lets battle right now!"

I often got accused of being a bit of a hot head and putting a bit too much emphasis on being the best, whatever vague meaning that accolade was supposed to hold. Compared to this guy, however, I was humble and just looking to have some fun. He was irritating me-though admittedly, that wasn't very hard to do-and I was getting a bit tired of it.

My tongue clicked, and White reached out to grab my wrist and keep me back with that best friend sixth sense that told her exactly what I was going to do. My arm was already up though, and I strode over to the loudmouth. He was a bit younger than me, wearing a spotless white suit that probably cost more than a week of Battle Subway winnings, with blue hair so perfectly coiffed and tended to that one of his two companions was probably his tagalong hair stylist. His face exuded all of the arrogance and self-entitlement that came from the very worst up the upper class, and explained his attitude nicely. He had one of those faces that looked like he was always looking at something disgusting. Both of his companions seemed older than him, probably in their early twenties, both with neutral expressions and clothes less extravagant, a boy and a girl. Hired servants maybe; older, more experienced trainers paid outrageous amounts of money to make sure he never actually had to lift a finger or actually do anything.

"Go home, brat," I snarled. The familiar groan from White and worried gasp from Bianca rang out behind me, a bit more distant than I thought, and everyone else had fallen silent. "You beat a couple gym leaders-or at least, your friends did it on your behalf-with Pokemon your parents probably paid lots of money to have bred to perfection, and you think that entitles you to step past all these people? You probably grew up in a happy bubble where you got everything with less work than the people unfortunate enough to need to learn courtesy when they grew up, but now it's time to grow up and head to the back of the line. Everyone here earned their spot in this line, and mom and dad won't buy your way out of this."

Rich Kid looked at me with what was probably a disgusted, indignant expression. It was hard to tell; he looked the same as he did when we got into the line. His hangers-on looked at me horrified. The man on his left was much bigger than I was, with lots of dull bulk that implied lots of brute force training and little refinement. Most trainers tended to develop lots of lean, spry muscle from walking and biking everywhere, but his build suggested a strength trainer, or as I like to call it, someone who can kick my ass. He looked defensive, which only supported the "hired muscle" idea. Blond hair was cropped to the skull so short it was probably shaved regularly. His suit wasn't nearly as expensive as his client's, but still more than I could afford while actually eating. His shoulders moved around a little, possibly pre-whoop ass stretching.

The woman, on the other hand, looked at me with the sort of vague worry of someone too demure to show much else. His stylist, I guessed. She wore a maid-like outfit, reasonably changed to adapt for the outside, but as spotless as everyone else's. I sincerely doubted there was much in the way of actual walking these three did. Her light brown hair was cut tidily to somewhere just past the neck and tended to expertly, one of those people who worked intently to never get any of the hair problems people without access to expensive hair treatments had to suffer through. At that thought, the locks of black hair that, to my continued annoyance, refused to do anything but stand up, almost seemed to snicker a little. The dress hid a lot of what I assumed were generous curves. She was a very attractive woman, which made it all the worse that she seemed to have her spirit beaten into submission by such an irritating prat.

"What did you just say?" he sneered, taking a step toward me, followed by his lumbering enforcer. "Who are you? You're nobody. Get back in line, shut up, and stop messing with greatness."Most people would have taken one look at the brute and cowered away. I took another step forward, my entire body clenching up. My fingernails turned white from the pressure of being pushed so hard into my palm. Some people would have called it courage, but from where I was standing, it was stupidity. It was the right kind, though. Not the ignorant unknowing I'd been known to ridicule someone for. No, the willingness to stand up against your own better interests simply because someone was being an asshole.

"The only great thing here is the size of your ego, and you don't even have the fights to back it up. Everything you're proud of has been dropped in your lap, and you think that makes you King Dick? What have you ever done? Nothing. You don't get to lord all over people and piss in whatever corner you want just because you bought your way to a whole three gym badges. In a real fight, any decent trainer could cut you to shreds, and I'd hate to see how your self-entitled ass gets when you actually lose a fight. My money's on some tears, lots of screaming, maybe even a few punches thrown. Go home, ask for another Ponyta, and come back when you've actually accomplished something. Or once Daddy buys you enough gym badges."

Noble or not, stupidity was still stupidity at the root of it all.

The dumb muscle was already moving by the time I finished my sentences, and there was nothing I could do about it. He was faster, stronger, and bigger than I was. I could only stand there and make an unsavoury comment about getting blood on his suit that got cut off by his first striking me square in the gut. I fell back, and unsurprisingly, a few red specks splattered onto the white fabric as I stumbled into White and Bianca's waiting grasp. I spat some more blood up, and in my infinite wisdom, responded another smartass remark. "Funny, I thought you'd be rich enough to afford some real muscle, not a Bidoof in a human costume."

"You're still talking, and you think I won't plug your fucking mouth with my fist? What, do you think I'm stupid?" His voice was a deep, ressonant basso with an undercurrent of total cluelessness and ignorance. Maybe I'm just insufferable, but when you get stupid enough; "potato with a mouth", 100% stupid, the voice gives it away immediately.

"I know you don't have the brains that Arceus gave corn." It incensed him enough that he was moving in for another strike, but by that point everyone's attention was square on the mess.

Security guards, likely called while the brat raised a shitstorm, quickly seized the man and pulled him back with only inches to spare. By that point, my heart raced and my head buzzed with the heavy presence of adrenaline, and I probably shouted a few more insults now that I was safe-it was hard to tell what I was doing. I squirmed angrily in Bianca and White's grasp as a few more guards came to deal with the situation, as well as a suited man whose anger was well hidden behind his veneer of civility and reason. Utterly bland-looking in every way, he fit the bill perfectly for "problem solver".

"Sir," he said, regarding the brat. "You and your companions don't have the qualifications to even gain preliminary access to the facility, and a physical assult will not help. I am going to ask you kindly to leave, and if you choose to cause more problems, then I will be forced to ban you permanently, even when you are certified to compete. These guards will escort you out." He turned on his heel to face me. "And you three. I don't think you were really gunning for a fight, but what happened happened, and we don't allow physical confrontations between trainers. I'll let you off without a formal warning this time, but please try to keep your attitude in check next time. There's plenty of braggarts able to complete who will be just as arrogant. Proceed through processing and stay out of trouble.

My head rang, my blood raced, and another cough brought more blood past my lips. I seemed torn between pain and ecstacy and the heavy thump of my heart shaking my body a hundred times a second. Adrenaline raced through every vein with undending excitement. I was king of the world, and spitting up blood was only a challenge to my authority I had ruthlessly slaughtered. Confused, excited, and a little high, I started to laugh one of those heavy, cackling laughs only the insane and the cartoonishly evil would even consider.

"Cheren!" White snapped, and suddenly all of reality violently came back to me with a degree of whiplash that made me gasp and shake a little. We were past the line now, sitting on a bench by the exit, both girls staring at me wide-eyed. "How could you be so stupid?"

"He was a dick." I still wasn't completely aware of my actions, but something told me that I met my friend's angry expression with a shit-eating grin. My hand wiped some blood from my lip and I stared at her with utter conviction. I wasn't wrong in standing up to him, and I didn't resort to violence myself.

She groaned, looked to Bianca for some backup. The blonde fidgeted a little and spoke. "You shouldn't be picking fights like that, you could have gotten really hurt."

"Don't do that again," White added sternly.

"Fine," I muttered, "Next time, I promise I won't not punch someone."

Another scowl from White, and I closed my eyes and widened the grin. Smartass remarks were like a drug me.

"Has Cheren grown some claws?" came a voice behind us that would have surprised me had it not been so distinct I placed it immediately. Also, that we were expecting to meet up with him there helped. We turned our heads to see N, the newest member, so to speak, of our little group of friends. He had a good five or six years on us, but he made up for that with a more childish mind than is probably healthy. His wild and unkempt green hair ran down his back in a loose ponytail while other bits of it poked out of his cap. He wore a loose white shirt of a tighter black one, spitting in the face of the summer heat. His pants were bland, beige, and uttery unremarkable. What drew the eye, aside from the hair, was the assortment of strange accessories he had, none of them too sensical, practical, or stylish, but all quintessentially 'him'. They showed off his childish demeanour and painted him as about as innocent as he really was, the product of a very abusive childhood. He had come to be friends with us in the year and a half since that all went down, and his extremist view on Pokemon and trainers softened greatly. He saw us as shining examples of trainers who were friends with their Pokemon, who didn't abuse them, and he softened up on humanity as a result. He also started dating White and cut in on some of the gang's more 'interesting' activities.

Not much of a competitive battler, while we fought our way through the Battle Subway, he flew over to Sinnoh and somehow lucked into a staff position at the Battle Frontier. He was mainly in charge of the same squishy hippy stuff he always preached about, but now he had a liscence to kick peope out for abusing their Pokemon. It was a pretty sweet gig; I wish I had a badge that let me yell at people.

All of White's anger vanished as she saw the manchild approach, hopping over the bench to tackle him to the ground in a hug that, in more private places, would have gotten a lot less g-rated. They kissed for a moment as Bianca wandered off from the bench at the sight of a trainer and his Charmander walking back. Good, it had been a while since she saw something cute and wandered off.

"Let's go," N said. "I can skip you through the line to room registration and you guys can all relax."

I snorted. N's idea of relaxing was not something that needed a private room.

The living quarters were surprisingly nice. We got two adjoining bedrooms, one with a massive bed for a couple and another with two still pretty big beds. It was nicer than the Pokemon Center back in Nimbasa, even when you put money down for one of the private rooms for a night. The beds were so lush and soft that the moment we got in I lay down on one, not caring where my bag fell or how hard. It was the softest that I'd ever lay down on, and I could only imagine how divine it would be after a long day, under the blankets; the works. There was a nice television, classy furniture everywhere, and a bathroom that looked like the most expensive place I would ever pee, but all that was second to the incredible bed.

My sweet silence didn't last too long, though. The problem with adjoining rooms is that White can generally make an entire floor aware of what she's doing if she gets worked up enough, and nothing got her worked up like "I've missed you" sex. The two must have been tearing each others' clothes off before the door was even closed, and only a moment after White started to moan did I hear them hit the adjoining wall with such force it shook me a little.

A second later, Bianca climbed onto the bed with all the subtlety of a steam train, not that I really minded. Her lips met mine and, though there was probably still some blood taste in my mouth, it didn't stop her. My hands worked at my belt while she started to wiggle out of her skirt.

We were crazy kids, and, call me a degenerate, but sex is good. Bianca and I weren't in a relationship the same way she and White weren't, or White and I, or even N and I, on occasion. Just in our late teens with tons of horomones and pent-up sexual frustration we liked to resolve regularly and to our complete, mutual satisfaction. Hell, had White and N not been in the room next to us having their alone time, it would probably be a lot more hectic in here. We were friends, and in time that came to encompass looking after each other in other ways. It was all good fun, and in the event one of us got into a relationship with someone who didn't like it, we'd respect that decision and that'd be it. Luckily, White's current boyfriend was completely open to a whole world of things. Sometimes a bit too open.

Bianca and I shuffled up the bed a little so that I could lean against the headboard. Her hat was noticably missing, but every red-blooded instinct in me took to noticing what else she was missing. Her skirt was off, and her pantyhose were pulled down to her knees. Her vest was also discarded, and she worked at tugging her shirt off as well. It made me feel a little guilty; in that time, all I had accomplished was wiggling out of my pants and unbuttoning my boxers. I had to respect her enthusiasm, as she had to go through a lot more than I did, and as an apology, I helped her out of her shirt. She was quick to get undressed, not one for the kind of slow foreplay and disrobing that I often got in the mood for.

Our kiss resumed, her head moving in a bit too fast and almost hurting a little as a result. I scowled, but it didn't really matter. Our ferry ride hadn't left us much privacy, and it was time to collect on a few missed rounds.

Her hand seized me with all of the swiftness she was known for, and my hips jerked a little as my own hands reached out to her body, my own leaning over in the process. Her body twitched a little as I rubbed along her waist, just above the band of her panties in a slow, tormenting pattern. The study in contrasts of our masturbation was always a fun one. She fidgeted around as the other hand dragged two fingers down the middle of her chest, moving in a slow waving motion that constantly teased stimulation before hooking into her bra and stopping.

That really got her going, and it made her hand move faster in my lap. We kissed, and her mouth was just as impatient as the rest of her, no time for slow building. Most times, I would at least try to go slow with her, even if it meant she'd brute force me to orgasm and I'd go down on her to finish it, but fuck it, I was horny. My hands suddenly snapped into motion like my finesse had been chains they'd struggled at, and now sweet freedom awaited. Her mound was already nice and moist as my fingers brushed against in a couple time before falling into position, sinking two fingers inside of her while the others tended to her outside.

The other hand snuck its way into the cup of her bra and grasped one of her breasts. She was the better endowed-and overall curvier-of the two girls I grew up with, and the seventeen year-old's breast was more than a nice handful for me to knead. My fingertips brushed against her pink nipple and she whimpered a little into my ear.

Her free hand ran up my shirt, which wasn't too arousing a sensation by itself, but any physical contact was wonderful when a girl was giving you a handjob. She didn't like keeping her hands busy, and had I longer hair that's where she'd go to right away. Instead, she merely ran her hand along my skin, soft fingers all moving around in slow, aimless patterns.

My leg stretched out a little as it got a little cramped in its position, awkwardly bent and tucked beneath my other leg. Somehow, an idea came across me, and I pitched myself over, straddling her lap, never drawing my hands out from beneath her undergarments. Our kiss broke briefly, but it started up again, our bodies now close together. Admittedly, it made our masturbation a little more difficult, but damn if the feeling of her warm, soft body against mine wasn't worth all the mild inconvenience in the world.

She looked adorable, Her wide green eyes looking at me, happy as could be, the funny shape of her lips when our kiss broke in the transfer to her lap. We weren't matched too well for an actual relationship in terms of personality or emotion, but she was precisely the kind of girl I would feel up in hotel rooms and join in strange casual sex groups with. We, White, and N were that to a T. Curvy, adorable, and good in bed? I couldn't ask for anything more with her. When White lay atop her, contrasting curves with leanness and an ass not so much round as firm, it was the end of me. Every time.

We started to move our bodies a little, getting a nice grinding motion going, and at that point we were one article of clothing removed from actual fucking. Not that it mattered, we'd have still started with this if she were bottomless. For all her lack of patience, she didn't just jump into direct intercourse. She understood foreplay, just didn't think it should be slow, and the thought of even just doing it to warm up instead of following it through to orgasm was unthinkable. My fingers pumping in and out of her twat grew more slick as her juices really got going, and honestly, I didn't care how she viewed foreplay. The regular, rapid smacking sound of her fist against my pelvis played in with our moans breaths, providing a steady beat for our dance.

"Cheren," she moaned into my mouth, hot breath with a vague taste of cinnamon-she had a few bakery treats to snack on-filling my mouth. Her mouth was as sweet as the food she always ate, lips soft and trembling against mine. That did it for me-I was a sucker for adorable little reactions like that. I groaned, suddenly rigid in her lap as my seed spurted out, trickling down her clenched fist where it didn't land on her stomach or my shirt.

She pulled her hand from my croctch and smirked, pulling away from our kiss. "You came first," she sang, but I was two steps ahead of her, already making my way down her body, tugging at her panties so I could taste her nectar.

By the time we were done, a shivering Bianca sat in my lap, huddled in the corner of the shower, my spent penis still limp inside her as we made out. The hot water had been long spent, and we'd endured cold water for the last twenty or so minutes of our shower sex, but neither of us cared enough to kill the water.

After drying off and getting dressed, we decided it was supper time, which meant we could hit the variety of restaurants around the frontier. We knocked on White and N's door, but the only we answer we got was a string of moans, and we decided to leave them to their business.

My head was clearer as we stepped outside than it was earlier, what with the ringing in my head silenced and my vision straight. Now that I was able to perceive things other than smug glory, I could take in just how wonderful the whole place was. This was for the upper crest of trainers, and oh, how it showed. Everything seemed pristine, almost unreal to a small-town boy used to seeing sleepy towns and bustling metropoli. The frontier was pretty much a small, functional town for the most part, though it lacked anything beyond the necessities. The Pokemart was second only to those massive department stores that reached higher than some office building in size. There was a string of restaurants of various cuisines and price point whose smells all wafted right into our direction when we stepped outside. Trainers came and went, moving alone and in small groups, with a whole array of expressions from starry-eyed wonderment to overwhelmed fright, post-victory satisfaction to the moping of crushed dreams.

For the second time in a long while, I felt like I was around peers and equals. The Battle Subway wasn't so large or so challenging, and oh how futile it was challenging wandering trainers on routes between towns. No, for the first time since I challeneged the Elite Four, I felt like there was competition, a battle worth fighting. Every part of my fighting instinct, of my desire to be stronger and better and victorious, buzzed with what I could only call childish giddiness at the prospect. I'd start fighting at the first opportunity, and it would be glorious.

Of course, I still had to go through the next round of qualifying. If I flunked it, it would be a year before I could even try again. I was confident, but there was that niggling doubt in the back of my head that said handjobs weren't going to get me anywhere, that after dinner, I had better go out and start training intensely, to keep pushing myself and grow even stronger.

"White and N seem happy," Bianca murmurred as we set foot in the greasy burger joint; sort of the obvious place. You get a good idea of a place's quality by how good the fast food is.

I nodded. "Well, they haven't seen each other in months, of course they're happy. Even if they hated each other, they'd be thrilled."

"I don't- You're so pessimistic." We came to the back of the line and our voices dropped in volume that way they always did on instinct when you stood still in close proximity with strangers. "No, they're good for each other, it's a happy relationship. I just mean..."

"Wouldn't it be nice if you were happy with someone like that."

"Yeah."

"Don't worry. We all feel like that; waiting until the day we save the world from a sheltered manchild's evil father and fall hopelessly in love. Your time will come."

Bianca sighed, but we reached the counter, so she had to stop so we could order our food. We stayed relatively silent after that, partly because I think she forgot what we were talking about-she did that sometimes. When we got our trays and sat down with them, she had her usual smile back where previously it had soured a little during our conversation. "Is your stomach okay?"

I nodded. "He didn't hit me that hard anyway. I'm fine now."

"Are you sure?" she leaned her free hand over to pat my arm as her other grabbed the drink and took a sip.

"I am." I unwrapped my burger and we started eating. It had been a long day, and sex had further tired us out. It was good to get some food in me. Food was a bit subjective, of course, but hey; it was warm, tasted alright, and didn't upset my stomach. After the craziness of the day-relative to my past few, at least-the pre-processed soullessness tasted better than I remembered.

After about a minute, I looked up at Bianca, pushing my glasses up against my face a little. She was still; not just quiet, itself unusual, but still. Unmoving. She sat there eating her food and didn't make a sound or a single fidgety motion. I had seen Bianca scared shitless, near the point of tears, threatened; the whole nine yards. But silent? When Bianca thought, it was always after the fact, a slow conclusion reached long after there's any excuse to not get it yet. She was too busy living in the moment to ponder the immediate beyond some baseline level of worry and self-esteem issues that didn't usually stop her. Something was bothering her.

"Talk to me." It wasn't something I said often, especially to Bianca, but something was troubling her, so my usual relentless sarcasm could at least wait until after she explained herself. Witty barbs aside, she was my friend and I still cared deeply about her. Resting my food on the wrapper, I leaned in a little in

She looked at me with a raised eyebrow for about ten or fifteen seconds before setting her food down. "You don't really believe in love, do you?"

"You were concerned about my love life this whole time? I'm touched."

Her face flashed with a tinge of embarassment and just a little frustration. "Do you?"

Sighing, I leaned back a little. "I believe some people feel love. Who am I to tell people who they feel? But at the end of it, we're a series of nerves firing off. I have friends, and I have sex. At the core, isn't that was love is?"

"No!" she said louder than she should have, but was unshaken by the several heads turning to look at her. "Not at all. Love is saying you want to spend your life with someone. It's romantic and sweet. You don't want any of that?"

I took a sip of my drink as she spoke. "Not really, no. It's not for me. At least not now. Maybe when I'm 40, balding, and chained to a desk in Nimbasa, writing reports and avoiding sarcasm biting down on my tongue harder than White does when she gets going. Waking up every day lonely and desperate for companionship. But I'll stick to what I've got for now."

Bianca shook her head as she finished off her last few bites. "So what now? Go back to the hotel?""I think I'm going for a run, actually. My Pokemon haven't gotten any exercise in a while, and I want them to be in good shape."

My friend leaned in and kissed me on the cheek before setting off hurriedly, as was usual for her, leaving her tray, empty cup, and wrapper for me to deal with. I slid all of it onto my tray and actually followed basic fast food ettiquettte by throwing my garbage out before setting off. Quick to consult a map, I found a great trail that started and ended next to the hotel. I tossed the Pokeball on my belt out and shouted, "Emboar, let's go jogging."

Emboar was my first Pokemon and the star of my team. The qualifier fight would involve a one-on-one battle, one Pokemon each, and there was never a doubt in my mind about who it would be. He would lay on the hurt better than Liepard or Unfezant would. He had seen very little life over the week-long trip, and he only smirked at me a minute before darting off down the trail. I shouted, "Hey!" and followed him.

Maybe it was seeing nothing but water for days, but the path was wonderful. Everything seemed so alive as we went, thriving and healthy. A fragrant smell of flowers filled my nostrils and nature was loud and happy all around us, with leaves rustling lightly. A few trainers took liesurely strolls, and one couple out the corner of my eye seemed to be just coming back on the trail after likely doing unspeakable things.

Running gave me lots of time, and I spent most of it thinking. Thinking about the future mostly, about winning my next battle. That had been a lot less frequent as the battle subway stopped challenging me, but this was a new place, a stronger place. And again, being stronger became everything. Alder had tempered my rage and passion a little, teaching me how much more there was than just being better and winning battles through strength. It may not have been everything, but it still mattered, especially where my next year of life was concerned. I couldn't do much longer at the Battle Subway, and the next best thing would be challenging the Sinnoh League, which still wasn't nearly as exciting. I had to win, had to get stronger.

Bianca's words rang in my head, but I pushed them away. No, doubt and wondering about love wouldn't help. I had to be stronger, and stuff like that would get in the way. Relaxing and having time to do things I enjoyed was great; there was a cafe that looked nice and quiet, so it would be worth checking that out. And of course, plenty of unspeakable things would occur in our room. But not doubt. Not love. Not thinking about if I really believed in something. A lot of battling was about the psychological, how you felt going in and how clear your head was through it all. If I didn't keep myself together, it would be a repeat of my first round at the Battle Subway.

Alder told me that strength wasn't everything, and he was right. But he also told lots of half-truths and outright lies. Strength was still important. Strength being a general term here, applying to speed and tactics as well. Bonds were important, but never an issue for me. Alder had told me lots of things, and not all of them were to be taken seriously.

"Love is saying you want to spend your life with someone."

"Oh yeah?" I panted, running along my fire-type, whose concept of a liesurely jog was a bit different than mine. "Well once you hit thirty, your metabolism will fail and you'll get fat from eating all those sweets."

Emboar turned to look at me. It wasn't a sign of mental health, insulting your friends' echoed words out loud, and Emboar didn't even understand I was doing that. He thought I was calling him fat or something, I guess.

"Bianca," I muttered breathlessly.

He shook his head and we continued the rest of our walk in silence, while I tried my best not to think. By the time we finished, I was exhausted, and the sun had gone down. Being mid summer, that meant it was late enough to go to sleep, so I trooped up to my hotel room, stripped down to my t-shirt and boxers, and just lazily waved Bianca off when she asked if I was up for some more sex. There was a low hum when I closed my eyes, followed by a gasp just as I began to drift off.

It can't have been long after I fell asleep that I was rudely awoken. A heavy weight against my body, warm and soft, made its presence known, followed soon after by a kiss to the neck, a hand in my hair, and another in my underwear.

"I want to sleep," I muttered, trying weakly to shake the person off of me. "Come on, it's been a long day."

The wordless response was merely to feel me up.

"N," I murmured. His touch was distinctive. Bianca was too fast and less subtle, so that ruled her out. And of course, White wasn't big enough to be that heavy. But above all, N's hand was familiar, and he had a strange way of touching people. It was a fleeting sort of sensation, and his hands were always gentle and soft from never having too much to use them for. And if it made any sense, they sort of spoke, conveyed emotion that no other touch ever did. It was a thousand kinds of indescribable and pretentiously poetic, and... And-

"So good."

My body pushed against his a little, and his kisses trailed up from my neck. He was so gentle with me at the beginning, ruffling up my hair a little. "I think White and I have had enough alone time," he purred with that soft voice of his, and my eyes shut tightly.

"Where'd she go?" I grunted, trying to contain myself as his clenched fist moved in a slow, elliptical motion and capped each downward stroke with a light kiss. It was just my luck that every guy I was with had a penchant for being taller and heavier than I was, pinning me against the mattress as they did things to me. Every last one. His head moved and his hair dropped down from his shoulder, brushing against my face. I relented, giving him a haphazard kiss on the cheek and giving myself to him.

The kiss seemed to really get him going, as suddenly the presence of his thumb made itself known at my tip, and suddenly everything was maddening. "On Bianca's bed," he said smoothly, pulling away from my face so I could turn my head.

On the other bed, a half-asleep Bianca made little sounds as White basically did the same as her boyfriend to wake up the sleeping blonde. Bianca had no problems with waking up, though, and her own hands began to feel along White's sinewy body. The bright lights outside shone through-nobody closed the blinds-and it cast a jaw-droppingly gorgeous silhouette of White's back arching. Her whole body seemed to move with an inexplicable grace atop Bianca's and the shadow it cast alone would be something to masturbate to.

I was so caught up in watching girls make out that I forgot about my own bed mate. N had slipped down my body without me even noticing, until the thought of masturbating snapped my attention back to my own situation as N's tongue flush against my dick, pressing against the skin as it moved. His hand rested on my thigh, holding a solid grasp on it that almost felt like he was worried I would drift away if he didn't hold onto me. It was a strange sentiment, but the pressure on my thigh was strangely soothing and more arousing than I'd like to admit.

There were times when I wondered if White bringing N into the fold with this was a bit wrong. He barely knew anything about sex during their first time, and by their third, Bianca and I were involved. Maybe he was a little too innocent for such things and we had corrupted him. None of those worries mattered, though, whenever I felt his hand or his mouth or-oh, Arceus-even his thigh against me. The memory of N taking White's blowjob lesson-with me as the guinea pig-and ending up overshadowing her was a dear one, though the two had come to be about equal by that point.

His mouth must have had about half of me in him when my shoulders pushed back and my body arched upward. My hand found its way to his messy green mane and just lazily toyed with his hair as his lips and his tongue and his hands all danced their beautiful dance in worship of my penis. I sort of envied how good he could give head if only because I wanted to repay him in kind every time.

A short distance away from me, Bianca writhed without any attempt at restraining herself, and I sort of feared she'd end up kicking White off of her eventually. Until that accidental kick gone wrong, though, the brunette dutifully ate her out. She really got into it-in more ways than one-when she went down on someone. It was an art to her, and one she took as much pride in as a battle, although it certainly felt more fulfilling afterwards. Bianca's legs bent upward a little and hid her crotch and White's head from my view. Dammit, Bianca looked so adorable squirming around like that, just enough of her innocence breaking through to be a charm point. Every little whimper and errant jerking motion dripped with, quite frankly, inappropriate amounts of eroticism.

"Oh, yes! White, that feels so-Ah!" Bianca wasn't too creative with bedroom talk, but her voice sounded so sweet with that pleasured tinge to it. Her hair was all ruffled and all the movements she made while unable to stay still messed it up more. Not that she cared at all, seizing White's head and bucking her hips fervidly as she rode her way through the pleasure.

Watching White go down on Bianca, a position which only a week ago would have seen me grab White's hips and push her harder against our friend, got to me. Just on instinct, my body started to push into the direction of the other bed, not even anything conscious, just something I had learned to do after years of routine. N's presence was still rather recent by comparison, especially since we hadn't seen him in about eight months, and my hips lifted a little.

The push against him body must have made something snap in him. Sometimes, N was overcome by this possessive impulse, and the thought of me trying to move away apparently sparked it. His hands pressed to my waist and pushed me down onto the bed with surprising strength. I wasn't really leaving, but he wasn't going to take that risk. His tight-sealed lips suddenly pushed down all the way to the base of my cock, and my body was just thrown into something incredible. He was skilled, but he always had a certain pace to his treatment. When his animal side came through, everything changed. His head bobbed so fast as his hands felt all over, knowing every little corner of my body that set me off.

It was shameful that I blew it so soon, but... Ugh. "F-f-f-fuck!" I spat as my whole body grew rigid and his lips pressed to my skin, staying still just a moment. The quick surge of pleasure faded just as quickly as it arrived, and I was left breathless. Slowly, his lips drew up my shaft until I was out of his mouth and he eyed me predatorially, just a little bit of my cum dripping from the corner of his mouth. I could barely even see it coming as he pushed forward in one motion, again putting all of his weight on my body, though this time he was anything but gentle. I

could taste my own semen as he forced his tongue down my throat, fingers digging into sensitive flesh. The result of it was that I was still hard, almost painfully so as my body tried to negotiate between my refractory period and the deep, feral arousal. His own erection rubbed against my own, still sensitive post-orgasm, and it did nothing to let the pain ebb. His cock a bit longer and thicker than mine, as he was done puberty and I had just a little longer to go, and the pressure was intense as his weight forced ours together so tightly, and I could feel my warm, throbbing penis against my midsection. Curiously, there was a certain slick feeling to his length, not the messy kind of saliva and semen, but the slipper kind.

My eyes widened as the weight left me, only for an instant; barely enough time to catch a breath. When it pushed against me again, I knew precisely what was coming, but it didn't make it any easier. I was on my stomach now, my painful erection just as unhappy as two mens' weight pushed it against the mattress before it could even attempt to work out the dual pain and pleasure. It didn't matter, because there were other things to deal with.

N pushed into me with one motion, and I trembled. He just slid right into me, apparently having lubed up before waking me up, and going overboard just so he could give it to me as rough as he wanted. As his fingers pushed against my skin with even more force than before, I felt like I was going to burst under all the pressure. My head turned to see how the girls were doing, hoping it would make me feel a bit better if I ogled some boobs.

I had apparently missed Bianca's orgasm in being pinned down and objectified by N. They had switched, and apparently deemed my violation important enough that White sat on the edge of the beds, totally naked and illuminated by the dim table lamp. Bianca sat behind her, with her legs against White's and her hands roaming the more slender girl's body. One hand worked over her pert, small breast as the other disappeared between two clenched legs. Bianca kept her eye on us as well, kissing at White's shoulder while they watched hungrily together.

Now, don't get me wrong. I had nothing against N pounding me into the mattress as hard as he wanted. Hell, it had been a while since I'd been with N and I was glad to feel it again. But hell, was it really necessary for the girls to watch it happen with huge grins? Vague whispers didn't help as I wondered what they were saying about me, and the shuddering man child atop my tried to say things that, in all the confusion, sounded like gibberish.

I was confused, exhausted, still a little groggy, and N gave little consideration to how comfortable I was as he just kept going at me. A girl was getting off to watching her boyfriend fuck me as hard as he wanted, as my penis still ached as it was all just too soon after my last orgasm for any of this to happen.

All in all, the best lay I'd had in a while.

"I've missed this so much," N groaned, his hands now on my shoulders and my forearms as his body lay fast against mine and he kissed at the back of my neck with the expected level of grace. All quick, kisses that would have been light on any other day, but had too much force behind them to be called 'soft'. There was no pattern to them, unlike his thrusts-which, while savage and intense, were consistent and rhythmic-just a random stream of kisses that left the skin in its wake a little upset and tingly.

Speaking of tingly, each push into me rocked my body back and forth. Flush against the bed, it made for a lot of friction as my cramped dick rubbed against my body and the bedsheets in time with every motion of his hips. It didn't help any; exacerbating the ache and demands to stop as well as the growing arousal. I was going to blow my load by the time he was done, that much was certain. Whether or not it was wholly pleasurable remained to be seen, but something had to give, and previous experience told me that it was me.

"Right there, Bianca," White crooned, the two friends' bodies heaving in unison, Bianca's bare, round breasts rubbing against White's back. Breathing was laboured, and White's legs were crossed now, so tight together I wondered how Bianca could even move around down there, but the redness on the brunette's face told me that they managed just fine. Bianca's other hand was now lost in White's hair as they kissed very, very sloppily while watching N and I fuck. White's own hands now worked over her breasts. They were strong hands-she did a lot with them-and they kneaded her breasts and teased at her nipples with more gradual slowness and force, compared to Bianca's less reserved, less forceful, faster treatment.

The basic differences between all of us in bed always interested me, how we had our own techniques and approaches that reflected our personalities and spoke volumes about who we were.

"Cheren's always on the receiving end," White muttered. "He's all mighty and forceful up until a boy grabs him by the wrist. It was the same with Alder."  
I wanted to say something, but instead a choked moan came up and my body trembled. Each rocking of N's hips pushed him to the hilt inside of me, and each thrust ended with a radial wave of pleasure that made me jerk and twitch beneath him impotently. I wanted to say something sarcastic and abrasive that made it sound like I hated every minute of this wonderland, that I was just doing it so that N could feel good, maybe throw in a comment about White's ass not being as tight as mine.

"I missed it too."

Oh yeah, top-tier tsundere wit right there.

To make it worse, I didn't really say it. I shouted it. Loud. My fingers dug into the bed and seized fistfuls of it as my body trembled. There was a hand on my chest and a hand on my thigh and oh, Arceus, I wasn't going to last. N still carried on, apparently intent on fucking me flat into the mattress. The girls reached their own fever pitch and what I wouldn't give to just stop time and remain in this perfection forever. Another push, and N sputtered a little, his fingernails suddenly digging into me. The beginnings of an orgasm blindsided him, but I was too close behind to notice.

All in one motion, N jerked his hips back fast enough that only a few drops were actually loosed inside of me. A sudden feeling of emptiness was jarring enough, paired with a warm splashing feeling against my buttocks, but they all took a backseat to the most unexpected part of the night. He bit me.

He fucking bit me.

His teeth dug into my neck as his orgasm rocked his body, and the sudden pain and vague knowledge in the back of my head that animals sometimes did it to mark mates just ended me. It seemed I had finally passed my refractory period, though the hypersensitivity ensured the pain was there and I could do absolutely nothing to stop it. Pain and pleasure mixed all over my body and my vision dimmed as my orgasm shook my body, now alleviated of some of the weight atop it and free to writhe as I wanted to as I felt a warmth against my lower body that could have only been my cum. I didn't care. Wet and sticky as it may be, I could have passed out by thinking about it.

N came back down onto me, panting, again pinning me. He leaned his head over a little to kiss me.

I missed it in all of the commotion, but it seemed that White came as well, panting and tired-looking in Bianca's arms as she watched us with shock. "He wasn't that intense with me." 


	2. Chapter 2

The four of us woke up at roughly the same time in the queen-sized bed of N and White's room. My fingers were still entwined in White's hair and from our position, I assumed we both kind of fell asleep mid-coitus. She lay atop me, so maybe it was better to say that I had fallen asleep and she kept going until she was satisfied, then passed out. The last thing I remembered was being on top, so that certainly fit. Beside us, Bianca and N had snuggled in their sleep.

There were two showers between the rooms, and I declined Bianca's offer for another joint shower, not really feeling like sex at the moment. When N pointed out how large the shower in his room was, though, Bianca decided to join the couple, leaving me with my room's shower. There was no hurry, but I went quick nonetheless. The bathroom had one of those frilly, girly loofah things that never ran out of suds, so I went right at lathering up. Sweat and cum of both sexes washed away, and it felt refreshing when I rubbed the shampoo vigorously into my hair. My whole body kind of ached from the craziness of last night; admittedly, I was happy to see N too. We had gone long enough that we only woke up mid afternoon, and my ass probably had it the worst, though. My shoulder came next, where he had bitten me like a rabid fucking animal. Then my knee, where Bianca had kicked me on pure reflex when she came to N eating her out.

Point is, it had been rather rough, but I was happy with the night, all told. It was the sort of night that only happens every so often, when it's been so long since something happened that it was extra special. N's return was that kind of special.

I liked sex. It wasn't something I particularly made a secret of. It may have sounded cynical when I said we were just nerves firing off electric impulses, but I was no nihilist. I loved life, loved feeling and experiencing things, even if I was more reserved about some things than my friends were. Sex, though? Passion, a dizzying array of physical sensations, and a chemical release that left me a little high? There was nothing better. I was probably a little more degenerate about it than a guy my age should, sleeping around and such, but N's return was wonderful for me. The thought of a pool of lovers of mixed gender seemed the pinnacle of the experience as things constantly shuffled about. We all took turns with each other last night, and it was intense.

Towelling off my hair, I stepped out of the bathroom and found nobody around. Now that I was out of the shower and its ambient noise, I could hear my three friends loudly over their own shower. There was an urge to make some comment about how none of them could keep quiet, but I doubted I was always able to reign myself in. I was probably just as loud when I wanted to, and when I was deep in White, I could easily imagine I woke the neighbouring room's occupants.

When my hair was totally dry-I could always tell because my untamable locks of idiot hair stood upright then-I dressed and headed out to that cafe I saw. It wasn't anyone else's thing, but I really liked the atmosphere of small coffee shops. This one looked about right; dimly lit, modern, smelling richly of coffee and reeking of pretension. All told, my kind of place. I stepped in, took a deep breath, and then made my order. It took a couple minutes to get my coffee, and just as I turned to look for a seat, a familiar face waved me over.

Shauntal was one of the Elite Four members back home. Her purple hair fell to her jawline where it was neatly kept, and a purple fringe that covered the top rim of her round glasses. She wore a purple dress, purple tights, and black gloves. She had ditched the usual collar thing I never knew what to call, which was entirely for the better. She had some nice curves to her, though she was more on the lean side of things. As usual, she had a pen in one hand-the hand she waved at me with-and a spiral notepad in the other. She was a writer, with some published stories and plenty of unpublished porn. She had a gift, and was actually pretty cool, once you got past her strange obsessions with romance and who was having sex with whom.

In the seat next to her sat the only man to ever look more smug than I did, and with no effort at all. The first thing I noticed were his eyes, a piercing blue that seemed to almost glow in the dim light of the cafe. Only then did I notice his sharp face and very carefully-treated, slick blue hair, with locks in front and wing-type things in back, like Glenn Danzig after a rain storm. He wore a strange suit that certainly couldn't be called formal, but too expensive to call casual. Blue and white, it fit him loosely. There was an air to him of riches and aristocracy, even if he was far poorer than he let on, in some varying level of fortune depending on how well his luck went at the casino.

Sitting across from the couple, though, was the most striking of all. I had never seen her before in my life, and that was a damn shame. There was a certain beauty to her I couldn't place. With her black clothes and pallid skin, she looked like a porcelain doll. Paler than anyone had a healthy reason to be, it made her blue eyes even more striking. Her black hair was parted off to the side, the left side adorned with a white bow. Her dress was black with white trim and buttons, elegant and clearly very precise. She had black arm things on that would have been forearm-high gloves had they not stopped right at her wrists. There was a certain blandness to her expression, though; her face seemed rigid, lips curled into a smile so vague it was likely just their natural shape. Being the 17 year-old boy I was, I also took a quick look at her chest. It was damn-near flat, only the vaguest traces of breasts present.

I scampered over to the table, pulling up a seat and trying my best to look nonchalant and keep my gaze at the two Elite Four members. "What are you two doing here?"

"Hello to you too," Grimsley muttered. His voice had traces of an implacable accent over something smooth and suave. It was a little uncomfortable just how soothing his voice could be, and sometimes it made me wonder if all those stories about him being a vampire were true.

Shauntal rolled her eyes. "We flew in with Caitlin. She used to be a Frontier Brain and wanted to visit her old butler, the current Brain. The off-season is so dull that we jumped at the chance to take a trip." She sipped at her coffee. "I do love cafes like this. Minimal lighting, ambient noise of people speaking over low, subtle music. All of the aromas blend together into what would have to be the best coffee ever conceived by how well the smells intermingle and-"

"You're doing it again," the girl cut in. Her voice was completely monotone, to an almost uncomfortable point; robotic, even. It was stated matter-of-factly, not irritated. just pointed out. Her expression was rigid, lacking any emotion or feeling to it. Her head turned to me, and it was all sorts of unsettling. Those blue eyes stared at me rigidly, unyielding and completely unemotive. Her attractiveness was undeniable, but it lay in spite of such a frighteningly emotionless visage. "Hello. I'm Marley."

"I'm Cheren," I said, unsure exactly what to say and too weirded out by how completely still she was. Normal people moved a little when they spoke. Hell, even abnormal people showed some signs of life.

"Nice to meet you." She turned back to face the Elites with a stiff motion of her waist. "An old challenger?"

Grimsley nodded. "And an acquaintance. We've enjoyed his company since then, and it's always been rather entertaining." He drew out the last syllable on 'rather' enough to send a shiver along my spine. He was harmless and more eccentric than creepy, but damn, if it wasn't the most awkward table I'd sat at in a while, what with the eerie girl and Dracula's poorer brother. It took a lot of effort to make Shauntal, an amateur writer of real person smut, the sanest.

"I do parties as a professional clown," I said; when in doubt, sarcasm. "It was a little strange they'd need my services for dinner dates, but a paycheck is a paycheck."

"A clown, you say? Interesting."

"Yeah, a clown. And you know what they say about men with big feet, right?"

"That they're wearing fake shoes for comedic effect."

Her response just killed all my momentum and witty banter. Did she even know I was joking about the clown thing? With such little in the way of expression, maybe she couldn't understand jokes. Or sarcasm. Autism, maybe? At any rate, it didn't make me any more comfortable about being around her. Grimsley and Shauntal's continued silence didn t help either.

"Sorry," she said, not sounding at all like she was. "Sometimes people can't tell when I'm joking because it sounds like everything else I say, and I have a bit of a strange sense of humour. No, what do they say about men with big feet?"

Was this a joke? My eyes darted over to the Elites, but they didn't seem to be smiling, and I knew firsthand how terrible Shauntal was at hiding what she was thinking. That was the more worrisome bit for me. If she was red in the face, at least I'd know I was being fucked with. The idea that Marley was serious frightened me, because I had no idea how to react to this all.

"You're scaring him," Shauntal chuckled, and a bit of colour filled into her face. "Sorry, Cheren. She takes some getting used to, as does her sense of humour, but she's really a great gal."

I took a sip of coffee and tried to penetrate the awkwardness around the table. "It's okay. My humour is sometimes lost on my friends, so I guess it's only fair it happens to me one day."

"Hopefully, we'll get to know each other a bit better and we can exchange banter some time."

A sudden, subtle sound forced its way out of Shauntal's mouth then, and the spidery fingers holding her pen twitched a little. I had no idea what was written in the notepad when she put it down on the table and started writing something; it was all illegible scrawling no human being of any level of sanity could decode. Her eyes darted between Marley and I as she wrote, and suddenly I grew very worried as to what she was writing. I pretended not to notice, though.

"I hope so." The awkward air subsided greatly after that, and the conversation became more fluid, mostly because introductions were over and the other two talked more. I had some time to enjoy my coffee when Grimsley told us a story about the time he replaced all of Marshal's weights with fakes. It was a great blend, and immediately I knew where I would spend my off-time when I needed to get away from my friends. There's a certain volume level that qualifies as "quiet time", somewhere around the general ambient noise of a coffee shop. Bianca's been known to go over that volume limit while sleeping. As much as I loved them, sometimes there was just a need for space.

After a while, Grimsley's company became rather soothing as his voice became more familiar, the smoothness lulling me into a nice, comfortable state. "So by now, he's shouting that he's stronger than any of his Pokemon, and demands Conkeldurr let him lift the stone slabs. Everyone gathered to watch, because the fool wasn't listening to anyone; he's rather fun that way. He goes to pick up the slab with one hand, and this is where I disclaim all responsibility. Shauntal, dear, could you finish this for me?"

The purple-haired trainer nodded. "Through some divine fuck-up, the floor was wet or something. When he goes to pick it up, it slides a little, balance skews, and the whole thing comes down on him. Conkeldurr just managed to grab it in time, but-"

"He got rocked."

My head snapped to face Marley, whose own head turned slowly toward me. We cut Shauntal off at the same time with the same punch line. Sure, it was a lame pun that took less originality to make than my coffee, but it was a brief moment of synchronicity I rarely experienced. I guessed, for the purpose of thinking she was actually human, that she was just as surprised by it; her actual expression was just as stoic as it had been the whole time I sat there.

"I don't usually have that happen," she stated, and took a sip of her drink. "Strange feeling. Perhaps it is you who is destined to bring balance to the force."

I looked blankly at her. "Oh, Arceus, you went there." I paused to take a sip of my own drink. "I approve."

Shauntal made another one of those strange sounds I had grown to ignore as Marley spoke. "As if I needed your approval."

"Well, I am the chosen one. Might be a good idea to get into my good graces."

Shauntal chuckled a little, Grimsley rolled his eyes, and Marley stayed rigid. It was becoming the sort of thing that didn't really need saying. Nights were dark. Pidove always had the cleverness to empty their bowels where it would cause the greatest inconvenience. Marley didn't react. A pattern began to emerge, much to my utter non-surprise.

"I think I'll take my chances." She turned her head to Grimsley. "It's four. We were going to practice at five, and the area I had in mind is a long walk away. We had best start heading out." Back to me her head moved, and I noted it was eerily like a doll's head in its motion. "I hope we run into each other again."

And then she left. No handshake, no goodbye, she just got up, with Grimsley shrugging and following, and left.

"Strange girl," I said to Shauntal, my body sort of easing up as the table became mine.

"She grows on you. So, I'm not going training, but I have some things to do. Why don't you swing by a little after dark, and we can 'catch up'?"

I smirked, nodding my head in agreement. I hadn't seen Shauntal in a while, and 'reminiscing' would do me some good. Staying behind, I finished off my coffee and did some thinking. That Marley girl was something. I still hadn't figured out what kind of something, Eccentric, eerily attractive, sarcastic, completely unemotive and deadpan. Sounded like my kind of girl. Of course, I didn't really have a 'kind', but there was certainly a difference between her and someone like White. White was a friend, and the kind of girl that I indulged in wild monkey sex with to our mutual satisfaction. Marley, I would at least entertain the prospect of dinner or a movie to serve as an entree to wild monkey sex.

A friend once told me that girls like that were into some weird things, and as I got up and threw out my empty coffee cup, brief flashes of some rather kinky images made me yearn for some quality time with my friends. I ordered another for the road and set back to the room, becoming more and more intrigued by just what depravities Marley was probably into. It interested me, and the mental image of the girl naked was nice. I imagined her body just as pale as her face, with very little in the way of curves but possessing a certain appeal as such a lithe form squirmed and writhed, tied to a bedpost-ff she was into weird stuff, she'd be into bondage.

So enraptured I was in thinking about it that when I opened the door and stepped in, White and N undressing on my bed really didn't startle me for a second. I took a sip, said hi, and then as I started to turn, my body snapped back toward them. "You guys were naked when I left."

"We got dressed a few minutes ago," White said as N pecked at her neck and she tried to kick the air in attempt to get the short denim shorts off her ankle. "It makes for good foreplay to undress."

I sighed. "Bianca went out?"

"We overheard someone in the hall saying there were wild Eevee in the woods, and she stormed out."

N pulled his head from her neck. "Do you want to join us?"

After twenty minutes with my own thoughts and the image of the Gothic lolita girl tied to my bed, I couldn't really say no. "Sure, but I think I'll undress myself first."

"Your loss," White moaned as N ran his hands along her body while pulling away.

Whatever may have gone on between N and I, it wasn't really explored where threesomes were concerned. White was a very demanding girl, full of energy and passion, and she wanted to be the centre of attention and affection. N and I had been in the middle a few times, but the prospect of two men to please her was too much for White to let slip through her fingers. N was hopelessly devoted to her, and when she got dominant, would listen to her unconditionally. As for me, I think it's pretty clear what stronger wills can do to me.

White got down on her knees, N and I standing on opposite sides of her. After long enough, you begin to fall into certain routines, and with these two, it always started the same way. As her hand grasped me and her head leaned in to lick my shaft, I wondered if her demand to be the focal point was a conscious one. Maybe it was because she was always the middle factor, the ego of our trio. She balanced out Bianca and I, and in different ways, N and I. She was used to being in the middle, what connected the two other parts and made us a cohesive whole.

On the other hand, she may have just liked two guys devoting all of their attention to her at the same time. My money was on that one.

Her mouth moved a couple times along my entirety, her lips pressing against my base before pulling away, leaving it slick with a thin sheen of saliva as she turned to do the same to N. Her hand grasped me, and worked me with the same slow motion her mouth had, previously. I leaned my head over a little to watch her head move back and forth along N's penis, her brown ponytail jerking back and forth as she did. I couldn't really complain about the usual start; having something to watch made a hand job much better, especially when her head moved back to face me.

After she got us slicked up, she alternated between us, sometimes every few seconds, sometimes taking longer with us, hands sliding along our bases all the while. I remembered as a kid, how she was one of those classy girls who learned how to do strange things with their tongue like crumpling it up, or spending an afternoon trying to lick her nose. That very tongue, years later, did unspeakable things to me as her bright blue eyes looked up at me with a mix of joy and hunger. My hips jerked a little after a solid twenty seconds of eye contact, and my body slouched a little. My hand reached into her hair, but just as I felt her soft brown locks, she moved away to do the same for N.

N looked like he was enjoying things, muttering soft words to her that seemed almost out of place during such a filthy act. His dirty talk wasn't too strong, since it was rarely dirty when the situation called for it, so it was best when his mouth was occupied. I'd have reached over to shut him up and keep his romance out of such an inappropriate time if I didn't know even my hand on his shoulder would make White aggressive-and not necessarily in the good way.

As I enjoyed the hand sliding along my spit-soaked cock and the words of the man child slowly subsided, my mind started to drift back to Marley. Dammit, she was still on my mind. I just couldn't help it. There was so much about her that just mystified me, some strange allure to everything I'd seen of her. What was her story? I knew from experience that people didn't become sardonic because it seemed like fun. What sad tale robbed her of expression and pitch? How did she look naked? Surprisingly, the latter seemed the last pertinent amidst all of the questions about Marley the person. I wanted to know everything about her, hear what tales could be spun of her experiences and-

Oh, hell. I was thinking like Shauntal.

"Cheren!" White said, jolting me from my thoughts. She stared up at me with a dry look. "You're philosophizing during sex again."

"It's nothing to do with you," I reassured. "You're great. My mind just wanders when I don't have much to do."

She groaned, getting up off her knees. "Right. We're changing position. Lie on the bed." Even if I hadn't been willing to, she pushed me as she spoke, sending me in the bed's direction. I bounced against the divinely comfortable bed and rolled a little so I was on my back and in the rough centre of it. It was only a second, at the most, before White's body pressed against mine. The girl's patience was gone, it seemed, because I was inside of her by the time her lips met mine. N's weight followed soon after, lying atop his girlfriend. She hissed into my mouth as N's slipped into her back door.

For all she may have understood the idea behind finesse and taking it slow, her kisses during sex were never soft. All of Bianca's kisses were soft, but White's was possessive and fierce. Her teeth lightly grazed my lower lip, and dammit, I had enough of teeth from the still-lingering bite marks on my neck. Her moans filled my mouth just as much as her tongue did, and there was definitely a part of me that felt better for having her there.

My hands found their way to her hip and her leg, feeling the smooth flesh as she topped both of us from the middle. Her inner walls held me tightly, and the slight tremble in her body from N and I's combined, vaguely synchronized thrusts, felt wonderful against me. Her lean frame was wonderful to feel; everything so lithe and taut, her strong legs getting tangled up in the other four. It pulled us closer together, her warm frame trembling a little more.

N's hands were on her arm and her other hip as he met my motions as best he could in her rear. She moaned and writhed as we double-teamed her, occasionally barking at us to go faster. His lips were at her shoulder, and I wondered if he'd bite her when he came, too. I sure hoped so, mostly because our kiss hadn't changed much and some part of me wanted to taste blood from her biting my lip too hard. Sometimes, I wondered whether my sexual interests were too healthy, but if I broke eye contact with White she'd think I was philosophizing again, and I didn't feel like bringing that whole harangue on. There'd be plenty of time once we were done for that.

"Yes," she howled into my mouth, her body tightening in such a way that she couldn't have been much farther. Her hands were on my sides, and her grasp hardened a little. Her orgasms were rarely understated, and when double penetration was involved, it was quite the sight to be seen. It bordered on theatrical at times, but damn if the ride wasn't intense. N's hands seized her breasts from behind, kneading the flesh as his knuckles accidentally poked at my upper abdomen. It wasn't the most comfortable feeling, but the tight, velvety vagina wrapped around my dick, the thin layer of sweat on my brow, and the panting, frantic girl bound to make my lip bleed any second now all made those issues seem secondary.

The door slammed against the wall, and Bianca shouted like she had just won the lottery, "Guys, I caught an Eevee!" Had she come in a minute earlier, it would have killed the mood, but we were so close that we just ignored her. She got the message and closed the door behind her, sitting cross-legged on the bed and watching.

N came first. White's motions had been partly dictated by N's, and he suddenly became rigid, ending all of that as he loosed his warm seed into her ass. That set White off next, her thighs squeezing against my hips, sending me spiralling into orgasm with her. She wasn't rigid at all, writhing and breathing heavily as her teeth predictably drew a flood of warm, metallic taste into my mouth as her body tightened against me and a single, almost meek "yes" escaped her throat. I thrust against her as my hands held the back of her thighs, pulling her as close against me as we could, shooting my load when I was buried to the hilt in her. My hips jerked a little as I came down from the high and her tongue remained in my mouth, no doubt because of the blood. The look in her eye told me she was far from done, and Bianca's presence only sealed matters.

She wasn't letting us go anywhere.

Another shower was necessary after I pulled myself away from the foursome. White had been less domineering with Bianca around, since she was no longer the only girl, and it was a lot more frenzied as everything changed so frequently. It wasn't that I was out of energy or anything; far from it. I just felt like going up to see Shauntal, partly to catch up, partly because it was likely to devolve into sex anyway.

And as much as I hated to admit it, mostly because I hoped Marley would be there, back from her training with Grimsley.

In many ways, I found a kindred soul in Shauntal. I clicked with her in ways I didn't with my other friends-White was never the type to sit down long enough to read books, and Bianca's reading level wasn't appropriate for her age, let alone near mine. The month I spent with her, though, gave me access to a library I only wished I could afford. Certain interests and quirks that matched me well. Then there was her boyfriend Grimsley, who could match me in being an insufferable genius. Sometimes, friendship was just about finding people who your neuroses were compatible with, and the two elites were definitely compatible.

There was probably a good sex joke in there

The door to Shauntal's room was open, and on her word from practically living out of her library for a whole week, let myself in. "Shauntal?" I called as I walked into the room and found it empty. A twin bed looked messy and unmade, pillows and blankets bunched up in such a way that it formed a sort of chair back to lean against, probably so she could write. The other was a queen, large and a bit cleaner, though the obvious signs of what in polite society was called a rough sleep and in everywhere else 'sex' were all over the bed. Luggage bags lay in the corner, and the room overall looked like it was in a constant war of cleanliness, as Shauntal neglected her surroundings when she got caught up in her writing and Grimsley cleaned up reluctantly after her.

There seemed to be no sign of either room occupant. The bathroom door was wide open and the light was off.

On a normal day, I'd have found an empty hotel room with the door open odd, but not where Shauntal was concerned. Wandering off and forgetting about that sort of thing was very much her style. She'd come back at some point, so I merely sat on the unkempt bed and decided to wait for her. There was, predictably, a throwaway notebook and a pen beside me, the same one from the coffee shop. I just had to indulge my curiosity, flipping it open to the first page.

My jaw dropped instantly.

The words screamed out at me, Cheren and Marley, 30 kisses prompts. I am going to regret this in the morning, aren't I? Doesn't matter; too fluffy to care. New OTP? It was gibberish to me, but I understood the gist of it, reading on with horror.

1. Look over here

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The slow, rhythmic feeling of Marley's foot on his kept jarring Cheren, keeping him from thinking straight. Bianca had said something that left her wide-open for one of his wonderful remarks, and the thought struck his mind that would have made for one of his best snarks ever. He lost it, though, as Marley tapped her foot on his yet again.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"What is it?" he groaned, turning around to face his girlfriend, none too happy his golden remark was lost in a sea of distraction. When he faced her, though, he found her charcoal lips pressed to his, curved into the closest they came to a smile as she stole a kiss from him. And suddenly, she was forgiven.

2. News; letter

Stupid prompt idea, I'll do this later.

3. Jolt!

His hands brushed her arms, and fingers snaked under the black gloves that extended to her forearms. In response, her shoulders jerked away a little from the surge of his touch on her skin, a place nothing had brushed against in ages.

I guess my touch is electric, he smirked, pushing down the glove to reveal more of her alabaster flesh to his fingertips. Her nerves fired off hundreds of jolts in rapid succession.

Stick to sarcasm, she stated dully, and she'd have rolled her eyes if she did that sort of thing. Your mouth is good for two things, and jokes aren't one of them.

Well, you're not giving me anything to remark on, he said, peeling the gloves off of her. So what do you want my mouth to do?

As he spoke, his lips met hers and she just melted.

4. Our distance and that person

No idea what to do for this. Alder jokes, maybe? If Cheren finds this book, he's going to be so mad.

5. "Hey, you know..."

Hey, you know that thing you do with your hands when you get shy?

She regarded Cheren thoughtfully.

What do you mean?

Whenever you're embarrassed, you clasp your hands together and move them around, like a little girl. It's one of the few times you ever act like a person with feelings.

What about it?

He pulled away from their embrace. Can you do it for me? It's adorable.

You want me to be a little girl?

What? No, I-

Alder really did a number on you, didn't he?

His eyes widened at the mention of Alder, and his attempts at self-defence crumbled into sputtering random syllables before managing, I'll be quiet.

6. The space between dream and reality

The groggy haze Cheren endured every morning always brought with it one physical aspect that he always rather disliked. He would come out of ever dream with morning wood, and usually it was a curse unless someone woke him up for sex. It was a surprise, then, when his alarm went off that morning, and he found Marley shuffling down the bed.

"What are you doing?" he asked, still a little confused.

"Logging," she murmured.

With a groan, he sat up. "You need to work on your jokes. That's supposed to be sexy? Puns are such-" His body snapped back to his former, prone position as her lips wrapped around his penis. "I take it back! Make all the puns you want."

7. Superstar

Much to my utter lack of surprise, Shauntal got derailed, and what followed was a two-page rant about how much she didn't like The Carpenters. I have the most mentally-balanced friends.

8. Our own world

Neither of them seemed too cheerful to anyone, and certainly not optimistic. Bitterness and dry wit convinced everyone that their nights in were spent reading books and insulting each other over the most minute of flaws, for fun. But there, cuddled up on the couch, beneath a soft blanket, they watched animated Disney movies with childish glee. In their own world, they could take solace in their shared, guilty pleasure while keeping up appearances around everyone else.

How terrible it would have been for everyone to know what they were doing. Or, worse, that they sang along, especially on the duets. "A Whole New World" was a personal favourite, and they couldn't forgive themselves.

Colour filled into my face as embarrassment and fury and some deep, giddy joy surged in me all at once. She skipped through the next bunch, the only other entry being at the end of the book.

28. Wada Calcium CD3 (Seriously, what the hell?)

"What is this?" Marley asked, pulling her lips from Cheren's. He had put on some music, and it was strange, to say the least.

"Wada Calcium, disc three. It's a five-disc minimalist folk-jazz concept album by The Tragically Hypno."

"Who?"

"Oh, you've never heard of them, they're pretty obscure. Maybe you've listened to Luxraydiohead?" She responded with a shake of her head. "Cheap Trick Room? Clamperl Jam? Stone Edge Temple Pilots?"

Marley sighed. "I haven't heard of any of those."

"You're too mainstream."

"Hipster." Cheren laughed a little and moved back in for a kiss. Marley stayed with it for a minute before breaking away. "Seriously though, your music sucks."

The book dropped from my hands as they pressed themselves firmly to my forehead. I knew she wrote about real people, be it in vague, change-a-letter-in-the-name terms, or explicitly, but it never occurred to me that she'd write about me. Especially in such context. Such terrible, terrible context. It preyed on my already confused mental state and did no favours in helping me get over it. Such timing was almost bordering on plot convenience.

You weren't supposed to read that! The purple-haired writer shuffled into the room with wide eyes. How much did you-

All of it so far, I groaned, not peeling my hand from my face, though adjusting the fingers so they didn't smudge up my glasses any more. I'm speechless. And a bit disturbed.

That made her laugh a little, though her quick motion to pull the book out of my hands showed her worry. Inspiration isn't something you question. I'm a writer, and sometimes I'm compelled when I see something to act on it. You and Marley hit a dynamic that I've been wanting to write forever.

My stare was one of judgement, questioning, and defeat all in one. I need new friends.

Oh, come on. I saw how you looked at her, don't pretend I didn't drill a hole right into your psyche. As she spoke, she drew nearer to me, grabbing at my collar. Now come on, you didn't come up here to read my notebooks. Put this out of your mind. She climbed into my lap and ran her hands along my forearms. I've missed having a boytoy. Grimsley is always so dominant, but with you, I can be on top all I want.

Every masculine instinct in me told me to grab her shoulders, take her for a roll so that I lay atop her, and assert my dominance by pounding her into loving madness. As far as they were concerned, the only acceptable course of action was to fuck her hard, until her eyes rolled up and she couldn't take it anymore.

Instead, I kissed at her shoulder as she pulled my jacket off. Far be it from me to take control of such things.

Her ribbon collar thing unclapsed beneath my fingers easily, falling off of her shoulders as she pulled her dress up, revealing the strategic hole torn in her tights.

Classy, I said as my pants and boxers followed in one quick motion.

She chuckled a little, grasping my half-hard cock and stroking it lightly as she pushed me onto my back. Is what we do ever classy? Her body descended on me, hand still on my shaft as her knees pressed into the bed on either side of me.

Instead of answering, I merely grabbed at her ass cheeks and pulled her pelvis down, my tongue hungrily meeting her slit at the end of its downward motion. It wasn't that assertive a motion, but it was something to make me feel less useless. I probed a little deeper, the heavy taste of her moist slit making its presence very known the moment my tongue passed her labia. Writing had certainly got her ready, and she was probably gearing up to write some proper smut after she was done whatever she had wandered out for-I guessed I'd never find out what that was.

While I was very quick to get into things, having been surrounded by sex with few breaks since arriving on the island, Shauntal was slower and more methodical. Her tongue made long motions up and down in contrast to my frantic tonguing, and her hand worked the base patiently. Even as I drove her to something harder, having already felt my share of build-up, she took it slow and refused to yield to my pacing attempts.

It didn't help the whole 'masculinity' deal any, though that was pretty facetious at that point. The only person I ever had a chance of topping was Bianca, leaving every other encounter a completely submissive affair. White, N, Shauntal, Ald-certain exes-all took me and did whatever they wanted. To be fair, though, as much as it seemed like a complaint, I complained about everything. I truly did enjoy it.

There was little the writer could have done to resist the boy's advances, she breathlessly muttered to herself between licks. To be worshipped by his tongue, to feel his body writhing beneath her as all of her experience brought him to unseen lengths, was the greatest feeling in the world in her eyes. He deserved the reciprocation, deserved to feel her experience. It had become a right, something she couldn't in good mind keep from him. Who could be rightfully deprived of such pleasures?

The snarky 'I need new friends' thought came back as I heard her lapse into her habit of composing stories during sex. It had varying levels of sexy depending on the context, but hell if a blow job was not the time for it. Still, I knew better than to shake her from her trance and just let her go. To hear her desperately pant the words with so much arousal in every syllable was at least a bit of a turn-on. Her hand was undisturbed by her words, and there was now enough saliva all over my penis to make the very tight hold pleasurable enough.

Instead, I tried to refocus my attention on her. A few of my fingers slipped into her, feeling around the sopping wet pussy as my lips tended to her thighs and clitoris. The other hand slipped beneath her tights, feeling the soft, smooth flesh of her moderately plump ass as my fingers prepared themselves. Each breath brought in a heavy pull of her smell, of her dripping sex and all the desperation in the world.

Everyone I knew had a different reason for having careless, casual sex. White loved the attention and affection, N had a warped view of human interaction and saw it as some kind of bonding, in addition to finding a genuine connection that he lacked growing up. Bianca just liked the feeling and fell in line with the rest of us. For Shauntal, though, I was completely unsure if she was a nymphomaniac using her stories as vicarious release, someone who took an artistic turn in the 'wrong' direction, or just someone who really liked sex. All of them seemed equally valid, but the realization that I was once again philosophizing with my tongue against a woman and derailed the train of thought immediately.

On the bright side, I found the best way to force Shauntal into a pace change. My fingers were now slick with her juices, and as they ran along her rear, her body bucked a little in knowing anticipation. As the first finger breached her ass, her story composition died immediately, silenced by the sudden presence of more than half my cock in her mouth. Her fingertips pressed into my thigh so hard that I could feel the nails, and my head spun with wild joy. My intense tongue work went rewarded at last, her mouth and lips and tongue and neck all picking up the slack, the hand around my base moving faster to match her oral treatment.

Something must have snapped in her head and she realized what I was doing, because with a sudden motion, she stopped. Saliva trails connected my penis to her lips as she pulled away from me, taking her sweet, nectar-soaked pussy with her. My fingers withdrew reluctantly as I lay there unsatisfied and disappointed.

Crafty, she purred, turning her body around so that she lay atop me, pressing my penis up between our bodies and moving just slowly enough to tease me without bringing me any further. But you can't pull one on me without having to pay for it. Oh, I will enjoy toying with you.

I heard myself gulping, cursing myself for getting into this mess. Shauntal had the definite capacity for cruelty and, given the time, could leave me on the edge for as long as she wanted. Mixed with the patience to read door-stopper novels in one sitting, it meant that sunlight would be a distant memory by the time I got release.

Her thighs pressed against my hips as she pulled away and drew back forward. I felt her hands on my wrists, pinning me down as the underside of my penis pressed against her slit and the next few motions her hips made drove me mad.

The boy had little recourse as she took the reigns so fully. Where previously he writhed out of passion, he now moved trembled meekly, powerless to cease her teasing and the quick-firing pleasure it brought. Sunlight's last threads through the curtains gave a terrible warning of hours to come on the verge of nirvana and a relative eternity in service to her out of meek hope she would reward him with gratification. Her head had rolled back and she stared at the ceiling as she spun her tale, coming back down to face me when she returned briefly to reality. Her hands pulled from my wrists for only a moment, pulling down at the top of her dress so that her breasts came free. They weren't the largest in the world, but a nice size and still sufficiently plump. As her body lowered, she fell back into old habits.

Hunger tore through his throat in anticipation for the temptress's treat. Her round breasts seemed more appetizing than anything his lips had ever felt save for her nectarine core, which was preoccupied with other matters. In some eager hope to slate at least one hunger, his tongue came to it lovingly, and he treated it with all of the reverence it deserved.

Apparently too caught up in what was sure to be her next trashy novel, she forgot about the whole 'teasing' thing. As I kissed her nipple, she moved around a little and pushed herself onto me in one motion. My tongue treatment made her twat even wetter so that now, my dick screaming in loving agony as her velvety walls enveloped it. Eagerly I suckled on her breast, hoping to lull her deeper into her artsy trance just long enough to get off.

Her hands pressed against the headboard as she pushed against it for leverage. Seeing her face caught in its pleasured state from below as I got a mouthful of tit and her body heaved atop me was one of the hottest things I'd seen on me in recent memory, and really made me miss hanging around with her. I'd need to pay more regular visits if she got this intense when I finally came around.

All of the commotion and previous stimulation worked against me. I knew that my first release in her hands wouldn't be my last, but fuck if I didn't want to at least outlast her. The stirrings in my body were imminent, and I could do nothing but brace myself for the oncoming release.

Then, in a couple of smarmy words, all of our momentum ended. My orgasm receded so fast it worried me that I wouldn't get another one again, and whatever trance Shauntal had fallen into broke in an instant.

What a surprise.

As the soft flesh moved away to stop obscuring my face, I saw Grimsley standing in the doorway with an amused smile on his face. He had found his girlfriend and a friend in his hotel room, fucking on the mostly unused second bed, and he wasn't angry about it at all.

You should have waited for me, he said in a voice so smooth my eyes shut involuntary and something comforting came over me. Before I could perceive anything else, I could hear his whisper in my ear. It has been so long, after all. I wanted to indulge as well, dear. 


	3. Chapter 3

"I wanted to indulge as well, dear."

The words echoed in my mind a little as I felt hands, smooth as velvet, along my hips. Grimsley lay on the bed, clothed, straddling his girlfriend. All of their weight pressed down on me as my head began to spin. Most people would find a friend beneath their lover and be mad. Grimsley was merely upset that we hadn't waited for him. Sometimes he didn't even seem to act like a normal person; not that Shauntal was any better with her head in the clouds and her nose buried in a notebook. Gosh, why did my circle of friends need to consist of such head cases?

"Do you remember," he continued to purr in his smooth velvet voice, deep and rich, coming off with just the traces of an accent I never could place, "What I asked of you the last time you started without me?" I winced as his hands worked their way further up my shirt, and I wanted to call for an adult. Of course I remembered that night, no matter how intoxicated we were. We went through so much of her 'liquid inspiration' that night that it's a wonder we could even muster up the ability to fuck. It probably wasn't even all too good, but hell if it didn't feel like the best night of my life when it happened. "I would like that again, please. It's regrettable that Marley and I took too long with our practice battle, but you should learn some restraint, dear."

Shauntal cooed into my ear, and I was sure there was something I could see that he was doing to her to elicit that sound. After she trembled against me, their combined weight was lifted off and we all shuffled into the position he wanted us to be in, one we knew well. Grimsley lay on the edge of the bed, slowly working his pants off as he watched us with a smile. Half-clothed, with what we were wearing disheveled and pushed or opened to reveal what it should have hid. My pants were gone and my shirt was open, and my glasses were crooked on my face. Grimsley's voice alone had roused my penis from its post-orgasm lull. Beside me, Shauntal's hair was mussed, glasses slipping down her nose, dress hiked up at the bottom and pulled down at the top, pantyhose torn with a visible hole that revealed her snatch and some of the neat purple hairs above it. Yes, Shauntal's carpet matched her drapes.

Grimsley's pants slid down his waist and his legs, thumbs hooked into the waistband of his underwear and letting them follow. Just the sight of it rigid made my back curl forward a little and my tongue drag along my lips where the taste of Shauntal's juices still lingered. N was certainly no disappointment in that area, but Grimsley was positively gifted, blessed by Arceus with the ability to, with only the sight of it, make every decision I ever made about experimentation seem right. There was something magical about it that made me deeply envious of Shauntal and the fact it was hers to enjoy whenever she wanted.

My legs grew weak a little as they clenched together, and I felt gentle hands on my shoulders. "I've never been one to say no to you," Shauntal said in a voice so completely raw that I almost forgot it was her. "And I don't think Cheren's ever been known to say 'no' to anybody."

The proper response would be to act indignant, make a couple snide remarks, and turn my head to Grimsley's offering. Had it been any context other than sex, I would have, too. Instead, I made a sound that apparently pleased Shauntal greatly, because she made a happy little squeal and shoved me forward. I would have complained had two inches of Grimsley not suddenly been keeping my mouth from doing much speaking. In that instant, all defiance melted away, and Shauntal's hands on my shoulders began to do something like a massage that wasn't very skilled or focused. He made a pleased sound as my hand reached forward and began to stroke his base. A bit further down, my head slipped, before coming back up and letting my tongue work over his tip as I looked up at him through glasses hardly on my face.

Shauntal was a dear, though, and slid them up my nose for me as she leaned in real close with her mouth and kissed the side of his shaft. The massage was over, and her other hand was on the back of my head, trying to push me down a little. "He's a bit too good at this, isn't he?" she asked, getting even closer into things. Her leg locked into mine and she was up against my side, drawing ragged breaths right against my ear. Not that I'm complaining. The hand not on my head was now in my lap, fingers wrapping around my aching cock and beginning to pump so slowly that it did nothing for me and was all part of the tease. It's fun to watch you work. So inspiring. And Grimsley enjoys his part in it, too. Don't you, love?

Very much, he said with far too much self-control and composure. I mean, I was there, trying to suck him off, and he was acting as though I was sitting across from him having coffee. But, you were just as guilty of starting without me as he was, so don't think you're getting off free. Besides, he laughed there, letting the word hang as a bit of pre hit my tongue and I was worried as to the rest of the sentence, It's always more enjoyable when it becomes a competition.

Her hand left my crotch and seized his, much to my dismay, as she stole his cock from me and began to work it over herself. I could only sit there and watch him go, her eyes torn between looking up at him like prey and looking at me as if to say, You're not going to beat me . Up and down her head bobbed, flesh disappearing between her lips as she performed masterfully for him. With the snarky voice in my head silenced and my mouth free, I did the only reasonable thing and leaned in to lick at what she didn't. We each had a hand on his lap at that point, and there was little competitive scowling as we looked up at him together. It left her mouth and we shared it, kissing and licking and sucking in tandem, awaiting his response or approval or dismay. Anything.

He gave us nothing, so I went in deep. My lips slid down his shaft quickly as it pressed onward, deeper than either of us had hit yet, as I could tell by where the consistent ring of saliva ended. That was my benchmark, and oh hell I had no gag reflex. Of all the times to find out, it was while giving a blow job There was some self-deprecating joke in there somewhere, but my head grew even lighter as I pushed onward and breathing kind of escaped me. Shauntal egged me on, whispering into my ear things I didn't even understand anymore. Finally, my lips came to touch his pelvis, and I came back up starved for air. A bit too much saliva came out of my mouth, many long strands connecting my mouth to his shaft that broke under the force of gravity, as I took deep breaths and looked up at him hoping for something.

Not bad, he said, his voice growing a bit gravely-er. But I'm afraid Shauntal has beaten you to it by almost a year.

As if to show off, the purple haired writer sank her head down and set out to show me up. And she did. Oh hell, she did. I didn't even want to compete, given the circumstances, and noticed her exposed breasts just waiting for the attention. My head leaned in and my mouth seized one of the perky nipples, the hand not on Grimsley's thigh cupping her pelvis and feeling just how wet she'd grown. Her body grew a bit tenser as I did so, and that earned an appreciatory murmur from Grimsley. Something about 'at least giving him a show'. Like I was there for his fucking amusement. I ignored him, focusing on Shauntal and how she started to fidget a little. My tongue worked slow circles around her nipple as the fingers pumped into her in time with the bobbing of her head.

As Shauntal drew away for air, I pulled away from her and returned to Grimsley's lap. There was a strong taste of Shauntal's mouth on it, though not as strong as the next few drops of pre to touch my tongue. My angle wasn't to compete with Shauntal, merely to satisfy Grimsley so that I wouldn't have to be on my knees for him all night. Out the corner of my eye, Shauntal seemed ready to go again, so I pulled my head up and leaned his shaft towards Shauntal a little. The writer and I shared a sloppy kiss with his cock between our lips, working together to get him off. His approval came in the form of a pleased sound as his hands found their way to our heads and started to guide us.

Being with Shauntal and Grimsley was different than being with some combination of White, Bianca, and N-and I'd laid with all possible combinations there. Maybe it was because neither were a childhood friend, or because they were adults and I always seemed more comfortable around them. It could have just been that I knew those three well enough to see how their personalities came through in sex, like White's need for attention and affection. Maybe it was how foreign it all seemed, so unlike the environment I'd grown up in and was used to. Or, it was just because I liked how hard Grimsley topped me. They all seemed valid, and probably at least partly right.

Our hands overlapped on his base, mine atop hers and guiding it so that we stroked him in tandem. We took turns with it, taking his penis into our hot mouths for a few seconds, then passing it to the other. We worked up a good rhythm with it, settling into our motions and doing them well. He looked down at us, glasses a little ways down our noses and eyes turned upward to meet his intense gaze. There was a touch of emotion in his face that he tried to hide, but I knew it was there. He was enjoying himself, and if we kept it up he'd start to lose his composure and his stoic expression, and start showing us that we were making him feel good.

He gently motioned for us to back away, and as though some heavy wind had drove us back, we both pulled away from him reluctantly. Well, Shauntal did. I found my wrist seized by his hand, and I stopped in my tracks just as quickly as I'd begun to move. It wasn't a particularly strong grip, but his presence in a room brought with it a strange air that made even the lightest amount of force seem great. My head back to look at him as, slowly, he began to pull me back toward him. "Shauntal has already had her way with you," he purred, "And now I believe I'm due some as well." By that point, he was sitting upright on the edge of the bed, and I found myself gravitating toward his lap. When I was close enough, his other hand came to my thigh and helped ease me down. Still watching Shauntal and her jealous gaze, I was seated on his erection, incredibly slick and beginning to push into my ass.

I saw his hand move outward toward Shauntal and his outstretched fingers draw back into his palm so fluidly it was almost inhuman. It was Shauntal's turn to rejoin the scene, which she did gladly. Her body dropped down a little, not quite so that she was kneeling, but low enough for her head to be level with mine as she went in for a long, heavy kiss. There was the stark taste of Grimsley in both our mouths. As he sank deeper into my ass and her hand found its way into my lap, I ran my own hand through her messy purple hair and threw everything I had into the kiss. Her slow hand job just made me melt back against Grimsley, easing me into everything slowly. When the two of them worked together on somebody, they were unbeatable.

Her lips dragged to my ear, whispering, "You look so vulnerable right now."

"All mine, 'champion." Grimsley was in my other ear, which would have made me jump and shout had I not become putty in their combined hands. His grip on my thighs directed me, and I began to move up and down at his command.

"So strong, except when someone comes along to ravish you."

"Then, where does it go?"

My head grew light and the words that followed all sort of melded together. I could make out a few, like 'plaything' and 'inspiration', but for the most part they were just lost in the sensory deluge of it all. It only came back into reality when again the ghost trainer slipped into her usual bedroom fare.

'The look on the boy's face was one of surprise and surrender as he gave himself utterly to the two adults. Like prey wandering into a strange land, he'd been seized by the two and now lay bared, exposed to whatever twisted pleasures they wished to teach him.'

You're doing it again, love. It bothered me how casually Grimsley spoke with his dick slowly sinking into my ass. He may as well have been sitting at home sipping wine from an expensive crystal glass for how collected he seemed.

Her head shook a little, and she mouthed an apology.

Why don't you help our friend out a little? He must be so tormented right now.

With a nod, Shauntal planted a flurry of light kisses down my body as she feel to her knees in front of us and began to lick at my aching tip. Her tongue moved in agonizingly slow motions around my tip, keeping pace with her hand. Her brown eyes looked right up at devilishly, and I knew she was laughing on the inside. My legs fidgeted around as Grimsley kept me on the same slow pace as his lover. It was no longer Grimsley exerting his will upon the two of us for his pleasure, but rather a couple toying with the boy who had wandered into their bedroom. It was a game and I was their plaything, left to wriggle around and get fucked for their amusement.

It spoke horrible volumes about me that the realization was helping me get off a little bit.

The slowness drove me truly mad. I was so used to the frenzied sex of energetic White or animalistic N that it was like everything was slowing down save for my perception. I was trapped in a world I was too fast for, and my body was so hungry for more that it screamed out at me angrily. It didn't accept that I was powerless, that even though I could beat defeat him in a Pokemon battle, trying to contend with Grimsley's will was impossible for me. I could hardly contend with Bianca's will.

Damn it, why was her mouth so warm? Why was Grimsley so big that even at the snail's pace he moved, my lower lip curled inward toward my teeth subconsciously? They kept me on the verge, falling just short of any significant pleasure, while giving me enough for it to be extra torturous. After deepthroating Grimsley I knew that Shauntal would have no problems handling mine, but she acted like a worried, nervous beginner just because it meant she'd move slower.

"Please," I whimpered, giving in at last. My body finally won over my pride, and if they wanted to see me squirm, they'd get it. "If I wanted tepid, unsatisfactory sex, I'd stay in and my hotel room and watch some softcore pay-per-view porn." I spoke a different language than most people, and they knew that for me, the comment was the equivalent of, I can't take this anymore, oh please fuck me, I'll do anything . They deemed it satisfactory, I guess, as Grimsley eased me further down his cock and Shauntal's tightly shut lips slid down my shaft. Within seconds, I was approaching something that could be called actual pleasure, and I leaned back into Grimsley and sighed.

Shauntal grabbed her exposed breasts and put them into my lap, letting her mouth take a break as her cleavage found its way around my cock. I looked down, surprised, and saw her looking back up at me, beginning to heave her tits. On each downward motion, my tip poked out from between them, and had our gaze not been locked together, I hoped she would have given it some tongue. Of course, I couldn't find out, because I was far too entranced by staring down at her, eyes gleaming up at me from beneath her rimless glasses, and watching her pleasure me.

Under his guidance, more of Grimsley sank into my ass with each motion. He pushed deeper, and the pleasure grew louder. My head leaned back onto his shoulders, and as the pace quickened I could feel Shauntal's own motions slow, letting the natural up-and-down of my body do its work and thrust upward between her breasts. Satisfaction at last. The string of complaints ceased and it shut up, basking in what the couple granted me. My most base of hungers had been slated, and so long as they were so dominant, I only had to lean back against the vampire wannabe and let things run their course.

Right?

As soon as I thought that, having begun to enjoy the titfuck and Grimsley fucking me, it stopped. Shauntal's soft, pillowy boobs left my lap, and Grimsley's hands grabbed me in a way that was definitely not for mere guidance. Excitedly, the purple-haired trainer went around us and got onto the bed, and I was pulled off of Grimsley and shoved onto it face-first. When I landed, I found myself only a third of a foot away from Shauntal, sitting against the headboard with her legs up and parted, revealing the torn pantyhose and her sopping wet slit. I tried to push myself up, only to feel Grimsley grab my hips again and press his tip against my ass, something that felt too right for me to be comfortable with.

I sighed, knowing exactly what was going on, and didn't even try to fight in. I scooted over a little so that I was better poised, and my head disappeared between her legs. Unceremoniously, Grimsley buried into me as much as much cock as we'd reached earlier, and picked up from where we left off with renewed vigor With his hips doing all the work, the thrusts became harder and stronger, my body beginning to rock slightly, fucking me right into Shauntal's pussy. My tongue worked over her sore clit as my fingers began to slip back into her wet entrance. She moved slowly, hands running out so that one grabbed my needs-a-haircut long hair and guided me, while the other toyed with her nipple.

You're so good at this, she moaned, upper body rising as her head pushed back against the headboard of the bed. Oh, I wish I could take you home with me and use you whenever Grimsley is busy.

Maybe we should take him home, Grimsley mused in that same nonchalant tone he kept using. Take him on as an apprentice. His company is certainly worth it, if nothing else.

Mm, that sounds like a wonderful idea. Our bed is always welcome to you if you ever want it, Cheren, we have room for a third.

So wrapped up in the moment, some instant knee-jerk reaction in me wanted to take up their offer then and there, to go home and end up in a three-way relationship with two people whom I'd certainly have no problem being with if I thought relationships were worth anything to me. I didn't though, if only because no life decisions should ever be made when you're the middle link in a threesome. Also, because my tongue was beginning to probe Shauntal's pussy and I really didn't feel like coming up to speak. I was too busy tasting her and the vague traces of me that still remained. I had almost forgotten I'd came earlier, it seeming so long ago. My body was aching so much it may as well have been months since my last release.

They seemed to drop the issue there and get back to matters at hand. The dark trainer's fingers pressed harder into my hips as he fucked me harder, and Shauntal began to push my face into her crotch and buck against my mouth. Everything was loud and rough and felt nothing like home and everything like bliss. My glasses were hardly on my face and I couldn't adjust them because nothing in the world wanted me to let go of her with either hand. My knees pressed into the bed and if I kept going, no matter how soft the sheets were, the friction was going to start getting to me. Again my penis began to ache and neither partner paid it any attention, too wrapped up in their own doings to care about it, using me for their pleasure and nothing more.

All he head to do was reach over a little. But no, he remained stern and on his knees, thrusting into the younger boy in front of him and just enjoying the torment he brought. Shauntal could let one of those long, pantyhose-clad legs down and snake it under my body, and that would have done something. Hell, if I was flat against the mattress I could probably just rub against it a few times and cum. But no, of course that wouldn't fly with them. They knew damn well what they were doing, and enjoyed it almost as well as I did.

F-fuck! I scowled into Shauntal's thigh, looking back at Grimsley a moment as he finally reached the hilt. All of his cock was in me now, and my body was aflame with delight, my cheeks were flush, and my hair was mussed. By contrast, he just gave me the slightest of smiles. Cocky asshole. He even stopped when he did so and noticed I was looking at him.

You look so delicious when you're flustered, he said, finally giving me an expression. A smile. A bit, gloating smile. I think we know who's won the battle of wills here, all hot and bothered with me throbbing in your ass.

Shut up and fuck me, I groaned, trying my best at petty vengeance by sucking on his girlfriend's clit. It didn't do very much, as that was exactly what he wanted me to do, but I didn't have very much else to work with. All it did was make Shauntal coo a little as I pumped three fingers into her dripping snatch. My eyes looked up to see a big, wide smile on her face as she moaned, fingers working over a nipple as she looked down at me. It killed how right it all felt, how a twitch hit my penis and I damn near felt that I could get off on Grimsley's pounding alone.

Thankfully, I wouldn't have to. His thrusts suddenly stopped and Shauntal pulled my head from between her legs. I cursed Grimsley, and how he could seemingly communicate with his eyes, and how Shauntal knew exactly what he meant. It left me incredibly uncertain every time so much as an arm was out of place.

The writer grabbed my face and pulled me up into a long kiss, her tongue slipping into my mouth and moving so hungrily that I was certain she was only looking to enjoy her own taste. My eyes shut tightly as I enjoyed the reprieve; as much as I wanted to be violated, it did take a lot out of me, and the kiss provided a short break. When I opened them again, I found Shauntal had wriggled her way beneath me and our kiss had angled downward when I wasn't looking. As we broke away, my lower lip curled in and my teeth pressed against it lightly. I knew what was coming, and I could even feel her reaching down to adjust my penis and position it to her entrance.

My tip rubbed against her wet labia, more torturous almost-pleasure, before finally the first quarter of an inch pushed through into her pussy. No sooner had she done that than Grimsley pushed forward, his cock to the hilt in me and his body coming down hard against mine. It pushed me forward and I buried myself balls-deep into Shauntal, who moaned into my ear. My eyes shut tightly; the feeling of her tight passage clenching my dick being exactly what I needed after all that torment. We were back as Grimsley found us, mostly, though now I was on top and Grimsley was ravaging my primed ass.

"D-don't you ever just cum?" I muttered up at Grimsley as he drew upward and shoved back down harder in retribution. I yelped a little, and what space had come between Shauntal and I in his absence was gone again.

Shauntal began to shift beneath me as Grimsley pulled away, and my hand seized a fistful of mattress as again they closed the gap. There were hands on my hip and my shoulder and my head and I couldn't tell whose was whose in the mess. There was a certain rhythm to their motions that I could feel immediately, and it made my entire body surge with delight. In the space of an instant, we'd move in perfect synchronization, guided by Grimsley's touch alone, bringing me up with him and then back down into Shauntal. None of us were ever entirely away from or out of another, but only when we were all flush together did things feel right.

They probably felt right because, as they moved faster against me, I realized that I may as well have not been there. I was stuck in the middle of them, and their motions synched up to basically fucking each other, just with me in the middle to change things up. Their fate as victims of routine was only spared because I was there, though they seemed to slip off into their own worlds and I may as well have not been. Grimsley pushed down into me and Shauntal pushed up against me, and their total sum was that the right one was doing the penetrating and the right one was receiving it, and with their eyes closed it may well have been the same, except it wasn't nearly as full a fit as she was used to, and Grimsley knew it was way too tight on his end.

One of the hands I assumed was Grimsley's by the way the arm attached to it pressed against me shifted down to between my and Shauntal's bodies. It was a tight fit as it found her clitoris and begin to rub it, bringing a not-too-pleasant sensation to me of his knuckles against my waist. Each time she thrust upwards or he pushed into me with enough force to press me down against her, I could feel the bony knuckles of his hand into my skin harder than was called for, but I didn't even care anymore. Sex with these two was something else; almost like a progressive rock odyssey in length and experience, and I was too bothered and aroused and drunk off the moment to care about such minor things. What mattered was something was in my ass and something else was around my penis and two sets of pleasured voices played sweet sounds for my ears.

Grimsley's face pushed down a little and seized Shauntal into a kiss. My head, off to the side, dipped forward as well and began to kiss at her cheek and upper neck. It didn't help my theory about them ignoring my existence until his head tilted away from me a little, providing a clear opening that I gladly took. Our three-way kiss was sloppy, frenzied, and fucking unbelievable. More than 'good', the three of us seemed to reach the same spiritual plane and everything fell into place so perfectly it made every moment before it seem broken and unappealing. Moans tore up my throat and into Grimsley's mouth as even the way his tongue moved against mine seemed possessive. My back wanted to arch upward, but his body pressed down on mine even tighter, sandwiching me between the two as they fucked through me.

One of my hands found their way to Shauntal's hip, and the other was on her breast, working the flesh for that extra little bit of pleasure I could squeeze out of her. She wasn't a passive partner, and every bit of sensation I piled on her was paid back to me in how she ground against me. It helped make the whole knuckle thing bearable, knowing how much it got her worked up. I applauded Grimsley's ability to read her like one of her trashy novels, the way he adjusted so quickly to any change in her own motions. They seemed to be moving as one, two halves I'd somehow wandered between, and they acted as though there wasn't a snarky, submissive wedge between them.

I wasn't sure what was louder, our moans or the sounds of our bodies crashing against each other rapidly. Stray words formed out of our mouths and into our messy pile of a kiss. My glasses fell off and I didn't care enough to get them back, my eyes already closed anyway and my senses so overloaded that I was very grateful for an arrangement that kept me passive. I didn't think by that point that I could do much of anything anymore. Hot passion streaked across my body, leaving flames in its wake that licked up at my sensitive nerves, and I surrendered to it all wholly

I was first to go. Of course I was first. I'd spent the past eternity being reamed by Grimsley, so frustrated that I could hardly form sarcastic responses. "Yes!" I shouted, repeating it again and I thrust hard into Shauntal and my body grew rigid. I could feel my penis jerking against her slick inner walls as I came inside her, the streaks of pleasure exploding through my body in blinding white light. I could feel her own orgasm follow underneath me, and Grimsley begin to fuck me even harder and without much regard for pace. I'd set them both off, and together they joined me in orgasmic bliss. Her walls clenched down on my spasming cock and I could feel a sudden warmth on my backside as Grimsley pulled out of me just in time to blow it all on the outside. He came back down lazily onto me, his still-hard penis resting on my back, while I lay buried in Shauntal, who lay still against me. We all breathed heavily and just sort of lay wordless.

"I hope it's not too late and you guys are being gross, but-" A voice deadpanned from the door connecting to the next room, halting as our three heads looked toward it in a panic. Marley stood there, expressionless and still. "I'll come back in the tomorrow." She stepped back a little so that she was out of the doorway and closed the door.

"We should lock that door," I muttered, my eyes shutting so tightly it hurt as I tried to keep myself from showing the obvious embarrassment in my face.

I awoke long before either Grimsley or Shauntal did, though it was already midday when I did so. We hadn't stopped after Marley's run-in, although I suspected they continued on after I was exhausted. Smelling of sweat and sex, I pulled myself away from the bed and got into the shower, my body still aching in all the right places. It had been one hell of a night, and if I kept going at the pace I was, I worried my body would start falling apart.

After the shower and gathering my clothes, I hurried out of the hotel room and endeavored to return to mine, see if anybody was up for lunch, and then maybe do some battling. Oh, that's right. Pokemon. I came here to battle and prove my awesomeness. It all sort of got lost in N's return and running into the two elites, such that my two days there so far had involved no training or battling. Typical of me to go somewhere and end up sleeping my way through several people before even thinking about why I was there. I had a qualifier to think about. A one-on-one fight with a currently qualified trainer, and if I won, I'd get in. If I lost, I'd have to wait two years, and pay back the cost of my room. Registered competitors got free lodgings. Knowing that this wasn't rookie land, I should probably do some training first, scope out what my competition was like. As I stepped outside, though, I found Marley leaving her room. My gaze shot over to the opposite direction and my head hung low as I tried to keep her from noticing what I was-

Hello Cheren, she said.

Cursing under my breath, I turned around to face the obscenely pale girl. Hi, Marley.

I was going down to get lunch. If you aren't busy, would you like to join me?

Uh, s-sure, I said, nodding a bit too quickly and following her down the hall. So uh, about what you walked in on last night...

Yes, I wanted to say something about that, actually.

You did?

It worried me. Have you considered protection? I don't know if you are aware, but the rate of STD infection is-

Hold on. Before you continue, is this more of your weird sense of humor?

It is. I'm sorry if it's offended you, I was just trying to make conversation.

It's okay. I've said things far more offensive before and actually meant them.

I am a little surprised, however, that you would have sex with a man and a woman at the same time. Despite your clothes, I had assumed you were nominally heterosexual, and the act of having sex with multiple people doesn't make a lot of sense to me.

Nominally?

Yes. Although I will admit, much about sex eludes me. But, we don't have to dwell on that. Whatever you enjoy older men and their girlfriends doing to you is none of my concern.

You're something else, I said as we stepped into the elevator and headed down to the coffee shop. Oh Arceus, is this what it's been like for everyone this whole time?

The elevator isn't that bad, she shrugged. At least there's no music.

Ugh, that's exactly what I mean! I've spent my entire life being insufferably sarcastic, and now you're showing me what it's like on the other side.

And now you feel you should go to your friends and apologize for what you've done?

Oh, hell no. I couldn't stop if I tried, even if I wanted to. It's just jarring.

You aren't driven away by my sarcasm. Good, some people don't understand what I do and end up walking away.

Don't get me wrong, half the time you speak another language to me. But, I wouldn't walk away. If my friends suffered through all the subtle insults over the years and stayed with me, then who am I to flee at the first sign of snark? I looked down for a moment, then grabbed my face. Did we just have a bonding moment in elevator?

I'm not sure. But let's err on the side of caution and pretend we didn't.

Now you're speaking my language. ...  
I slept through most of school, I said, stirring my coffee. Once the teacher started digging frantically for reasons why the protagonist of every book had some kind of messianic symbolism, all I had to do to fight insomnia was think about Lord of the Flies.

Agreed. I held no interest in Catcher in the Rye, which is rather ironic, actually.

Ugh, to this day White calls me 'Holden' just to bug me.

Don't worry, you're nothing like him. I remember a few brief moments of that book where I actually laughed a little.

You're merciless, you know that?

You don't meet nice girls in coffee shops.

My face reddened a little and I choked a bit on my words. Was that a-

Yes.

Marry me.

Sorry, but my true love shall always be this coffee. It pleases me in ways no man ever will.

I'll admit, this coffee leaves me less sore than any man ever has. Or woman, for that matter. White went through a bit of a rough phase that still creeps up ever now and again. Say, have you ever actually da-

Hey, four eyes!

The cafe died as everyone turned to look at the source of the obnoxious shout. My eyes rose a little to see the blue-haired, white suited git from a few days earlier. His entourage had changed, the meek girl who handled his hair replaced by a scowling bleach-blonde with a bad fake tan that made her look like a carrot, and so much makeup that I was almost choking on the chemical fumes from where I sat. Unlike the grunt he brought with him, the woman looked to be in her forties and vainly attempting to avoid age by slowly changing the composition of her face to be plastic instead of skin so that it wouldn't wrinkle. She wasn't doing a very good job. I could see he was pointing right at me, and I just crossed my legs and leaned back in my chair.

So, daddy bought you some badges. It's funny that you called me 'four eyes', because you probably need glasses yourself. I motioned toward the rest of the cafe, filled with people on their laptops or chatting, most of them wearing glasses. Could have been almost anyone in this place.

Do you know him? Marley asked.

Briefly. Not getting out of my seat, I sipped my coffee and sighed. How badass you must be, to have accumulated several badges in twenty-four hours. Must be some kind of record.

Don't speak that way to my son, you little twerp! the blonde screamed, suddenly making things infinitely more entertaining.

I burst into laughter as everyone else stared, shocked at me. Oh, this is beautiful. You went home, complained to your mom that someone stood up to you, and brought her here to yell at me?

Don't you dare speak to him like that! she shouted. You're going to be in so much trouble for hurting him you little shit. Why don't you come here and I'll show you what it's like to be punched by someone older than you."

Marley turned around in her chair in that weird doll-like manner where only her neck seemed to move and everything else remained perfectly still. You wear a lot of makeup to look pretty, but it doesn't make you any prettier on the inside. Maybe you should try eating some.

I snorted, and a few other people chuckled nervously at it, too. She had quite the quick tongue. Look, I'm just trying to have a coffee. I'm sorry for punching your prissy little darling, but your coming here to yell at me is just undermining the whole reason I did so about the world not wanting to put up with his bullshit. Fine, I was out of line, but try being a good parent and use it to teach him some sort of lesson.

Did you just call me a bad parent? she shouted, grabbing a Pokeball. Oh it's on now, faggot!

Why do people keep saying that about my clothes? I groaned. Fine, then. We'll fight. If I win, you, the git that came out of you, and Cujo leave me alone.

Deal!"

Finishing my coffee, I got up to pay for it, moving over to the cash and opening my wallet. A devious smile flashed my lips as she told me it would be a dollar and sixty seven cents. "Y'know," I sighed, placing my wallet on the counter, "All I see are twenties, but I swear there's some change in here. Let me look for some." Rifling through the pockets of the wallet as slowly and thoroughly as possible, I could almost feel the seething hatred of the rich folk behind me, so pent up and ready to fight that my calm stalling tactic was driving them right up the wall, just as hoped. They were getting impatient, and impatient people always made mistakes.

I learned few lessons, getting through life snarky and always coming out somewhere close to the top. But one of the important lessons I learned was that keeping cool was vital. Even in battle, you stay level-headed and let them make all the mistakes for you. What was previously a loving way of coping with Bianca's ditziness had become a viable tactic in battle. Get them worked up, get them angry, get them wanting to punch you in the face just to wipe that smirk off of it, and they'll become so focused on making you pay that they'll fuck up. The kid spent a day regrouping and getting his mom to yell at me, so they were practically at Captain Ahab levels of being blinded by anger. I had this one in the bag.

"Come on already!" she shouted.

"I'm trying to pay for my coffee," I deadpanned, emulating Marley's empty tone and even her cadence.

"Fuck it, here!" she shouted, throwing a bill worth several orders of magnitude more than the coffee. "Keep the change! You, faggot, outside, now!"

"Vengeance on a dumb brute! That simply smote thee from blindest instinct! Madness!"

She groaned and stormed outside with her son and his bodyguard or whatever the fuck he was there for, and I calmly followed with Marley.

"Give it your all out there, okay?" she said, leaning in and giving me a peck on the cheek. "And win. For me."

Color filled into my face and I averted my gaze. "I will."

"One Pokemon each," she shouted from a safe distance away. "Our strongest."

I nodded, grabbing the ball from my belt and rolling it between my thumb and my index finger. "Would be rather apropos to have a Wailord on hand, but I guess you'll do, Emboar."

"Ursaring, let's get back at him for hurting my baby!"

The two Pokemon came out, and neither looked particularly threatened. Emboar had learned to put on airs and act more smug and cocky than he was, and Ursaring merely responded by roaring at us and holding his arms out. They actually looked pretty well-matched at a glance. Emboar most of a foot shorter, but looked bulkier and heavier overall, while the bear Pokemon came in at just under six feet and had some definite power in those arms. It wouldn't come down to that, though. Even if this Ursaring was stronger, the species as a whole has no range game.

"Flame charge!"

"Close combat!"

Emboar started in a mad sprint toward the bear, his entire form bursting into heavy, rolling red flame. I could feel the heat coming off of him as he dove shoulder-first into his opponent, the accumulated flames exploding around them. Through the smoke, I could make out the silhouette of the staggered Ursaring coming back with a flurry of swipes and short punches to try and knock Emboar back, though the bulky pig mostly weathered the blows, guarding them with his arms raised in front of him.

"Go for an arm thrust!" I shouted, getting the upper hand on orders as I made out their actions through the smokescreen. Either through rust or inexperience, my opponent-who, I realized, I never got the name of-said nothing.

Parrying one of the small punches, Emboar struck with several strong hits, making Ursaring's body bend and twist, contorting to each heavy blow. Again and again, he struck the bear like a prize fighter with a fire under his feet, wearing him down with a relentless assault.

"Now, rock smash!"

Wind up for one final strike, he hit Ursaring square on the target painted on his chest and sending the normal type hurtling out of the smoke as it began to clear. There was a clear gap now, and it was time to end it.

"Fire blast!"

"Hyper beam!"

I'd been self-assured by that point, even going so far as to throw out my hand as I shouted the order, but that stopped when I heard those words. "Hyper beam". No, that wasn't-damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Emboar had a large space, and he was supposed to use his ranged advantage, and I hadn't counted on Ursaring knowing its one potential ranged move. Few did.

Emboar sent the burst of flame out, but it was blown away by a massive beam of blinding white energy. Upon striking Emboar square in the gut, a heavy gust picked up and blew back my hair, sending up a cloud of dust. My Pokemon fell back several feet and hit the ground hard. Nobody expected that, and the crowd of onlookers who I just noticed had gathered to watch stared in awe. Ursaring fell to one knee and panted, the move exhausting his already beaten and overworked body. Emboar still showed signs of life, but it wouldn't do much good if he couldn't get back on his feet before Ursaring could fire off another. Running their Pokemon to the edge was something that many trainers were willing to do when they had to, and while I personally despised the strategy and thought it harmful, I didn't know how my opponent would react.

"You can do it!" I shouted. "Come on Emboar, we've been through worse. If we can beat Ald-" I stopped, my fist clenching up and my entire body tightening. "If we can become a Unova League champion, we can deal with her easily."

Slowly, he fought back to his feet and, just to show he was still able to go, the flames on his shoulders flaring up as he punched the ground.

Triumphantly, I shouted, "Defense curl, then a rollout!"

Emboar started into a run, diving forward as his massive body curled up into a ball and his momentum sent him hurtling toward the Ursaring. He'd been waiting for that, though, and without the command of his trainer, grabbed the rolling Pokemon and threw him long. Still spinning madly, Emboar went over the crowd, clearing them by an easy fifteen feet, and disappearing off into the distance. The people dispersed, running off to the side for fear of when he came back around. He was so far gone, though, that I couldn't even seen him. There was no way that he could have been thrown that far, so why was he-

Genius.

It took a full thirty seconds for him to come back into view, accompanied by loud screams as many people who had no idea what was going on had to avoid being run over by the behemoth of a Pokemon. He was closing the distance fast, and whatever he hit first was not going to remain in one piece.

"Hyper beam!" she screeched, as I expected. Ursaring's mouth opened and another massive stream of white shot out, headed straight for Emboar.

When it struck Emboar this time, though, it was a different story. Rollout picked up power as it went on longer and the speed picked up. He went long on purpose to build up momentum, at that point so fast that the beam could hardly touch him. People cheered and shouted and oo'd as my Pokemon defied the powerful move and advanced. I could hear brat and his mom calling foul and yelling, "No!"

Knowing his momentum would make slowing down impossible, he cleared the final few feet by unfurling from the roll and, in mid-air, striking the Ursaring hard with his shoulder. Falling back together, they dragged ground with them and left a crater in their wake. When the dust settled, Emboar was tired, but still standing, raising his arm in triumph before finding the act too exhausting and lowering it.

I called him back to his Pokeball, deciding that I'd give him the best dinner I could get once he was patched up.

"This isn't over!" the kid shouted. "I'll find some way to get back at you!"

"We had a deal," I said, throwing my arms up. "But please, if you want to be publicly humiliated again, call me." I turned away from them as they kept on shouting, having proven my point again and just wanting to get some damn lunch.

Marley came up to me, hands clasped together and down her waist. "Congratulations, you won."

"Well, you asked me to give it my all."

"And you did, thanks for that. Because I got the news this morning that I will be your qualifying match. How about we take a rain check on that lunch date?" Her face still perfectly still, she set off in silence.

It took me some time to register what she said and what it meant. When I got it, my face went into a scowl. She tricked me into going all-out and showing how I battled with the Pokemon I was obviously going to use; even threw in a kiss to get me worked up. All so that she'd have the edge when we fought for a battle that had real stakes.

She was right. You don't meet nice girls in coffee shops after all. 


End file.
