Then The Morning Comes
A Pokemon Fanfic
By Sailor Seraphim
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's Notes:
This will probably be the only Pokemon fanfic I write. I was attacked by the plotbunny which gave me this idea and forced me to write. It has long since drifted back to the ether.
I do not own Pokemon or its related characters. I merely own the situations presented in this fanfic. I am not doing this for money. I'm just a poor college student with semi-literary aspirations. Do not sue me!
Oh, and if you do not like descriptions of adults behaving like adults (or implications of yaoi), you probably shouldn't read this story... even if it isn't really that graphic.
Enjoy! //(^_^)\\
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was eight 'o clock in the morning.
He stared at himself in the mirror, comb in hand, like he had done every other morning for years. But this morning wasn't like the rest. This morning was different. He wouldn't go so far as to say it was special, but it certainly was different. And it was driving him crazy.
He had gotten the phone call a little more than twelve hours before. He had been just about to start preparing dinner when the phone rang. He answered it. In hindsight, he should have let the machine pick it up; but, he knew he would have picked up once he heard who was on the other end.
He looked at his reflection again, resisting the urge to punch his fist through the mirror. He didn't like seeing his face in the mirror this morning. He closed his eyes.
It had been a standing tradition in the apartment that whoever came home first had to cook dinner. This was mutually beneficial for the both of them, since they had fluctuating work schedules. Actually, the two of them falling in love and living together was a miracle in and of itself. He had thought for years that anything between them would be utterly hopeless and full of strife. But, due to the willingness from the both of them, their struggles together, and their love, they had stayed together. They had turned the apartment into a home. Well, that and their amazing sexual chemistry wasn't a turn off either. His lover had proved that quite thoroughly last night. He spared a glance over his shoulder and smiled at the figure still sprawled asleep in bed.
After the phone call, he had spent somewhere close to half an hour trying not to break down into hysterics. What would he say? What could he do? He surely couldn't explain his absence to his lover, who would most definitely be hurt by his leaving. He had pushed all thoughts out of his head though, and realizing that his lover was due to come home soon, he threw himself into the effort of making a fabulous dinner. It would be a romantic evening. Dinner, wine, candles, and their king-sized bed. If he couldn't be with his love tomorrow, he would certainly prove that he loved tonight. It seemed like a flawless plan. Brown eyes had sparkled in surprise the second they stepped through the door.
"Why did you do this?" was asked simply.
"Because I love you," was the simple answer.
And so they wined, dined, and finally collapsed together on the bed, making love throughout the night. It had made him ecstatically happy. It had made him forget the phone call. Then, tousled black hair had fallen asleep in his arms, murmuring contentedly, "I love you. I'll never forget tonight for the rest of my life." That sent reality crashing back down on him. No, he silently answered. You won't forget tonight because you won't forget tomorrow either.
Then he had fallen asleep.
When he had woken up, it was almost as if the phone call had been a fantasy, a bad dream, but the remains of last night's dinner and the slim naked form cuddled against him in the bed were proof that everything was all too real. He opened his eyes, taking one last look at his figure, patting down a few stray strands of lavender-colored hair. Then he proceeded to get dressed in his normal clothes. His other outfit was already packed and waiting out in the hall. Pristine white and black... the glaring red logo... It all brought back painful memories. Memories he knew his partner shared. Maybe he could leave before his lover woke up. Just go out like every other day... but he wouldn't come back. That seemed to be a better option than telling the truth. Better than facing tear-filled brown eyes. He had pulled on his slacks and was about to decide to do just that when he realized that dinner would be waiting for him if he went through with it. The slim form in the bed would come home and prepare dinner, waiting for him to come back. Then the hours would tick by and his love would get worried. Frantic phone calls, sleepless nights. No, he loved his partner far too much to do that. He had to explain. Just as he finished tying his tie, a rustle caught his attention. He whirled around like a deer caught in headlights.
"You're leaving, aren't you?" the somber voice asked.
"Uh... yes, I'm going to work now."
"No, I mean you're *leaving.* You're leaving me."
"I... wouldn't call it that... exactly..."
"Then what would you call it?! I saw your long boots by the door! I know what that means!"
"I..."
"Are you coming back?"
"I..."
The slim hands that had touched him so gently in the night were now balled into tight fists in the bed sheets. Slim shoulders shuddered with the force of suppressed emotion. The sight made it feel like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. "I should have known that this would happen someday. That you would get some letter with no return address or a mysterious phone call. I should have known that they would take you away from me."
That was the last straw. He broke down, rushing across the room and clasping the figure in the bed into his arms. "No! I'll come back! Just this one last time. This is the last time I'll leave. It's important. Then I'll be back. I promise."
He stared down into his lover's beautiful brown eyes, which were swimming with tears. "You've broken promises before."
They were both crying now, his lover clinging to him like a lifeline. He embraced back, not wanting to leave but knowing that he had to. "Dammit! I love you! If I say I'll be back, I'll be back! What more do you want from me?!"
"I want you to stay here! We gave up everything for each other. I lost all of my friends, all of my family, because I loved you. Just stay here. Stay here with me. They'll get the idea and leave you -- us -- alone."
"You don't know them," he replied bitterly. But he wanted to. He so wanted to stay here, where he was happy. He didn't want to face his old life again, the one filled with defeat, loneliness, and failure. He wanted to stay here, strip off his clothes, and make love to the person already in the bed. But he couldn't. He had to go, because of --
"You love her, don't you?"
He was startled. "What?"
"You love her. That's the real reason you're going, isn't it?"
"I don't--"
"Don't lie to me! Just say it, goddammit! You know it's true!"
"Yes..." he replied meekly. "I love her."
"More than me?"
"NO!" he yelled, shocked. How could his lover even *ask* that question? "I don't love her more than you. Different, but not the way I love you."
"That's something, I guess."
Silence.
"I... guess you better go now, before you're late for 'work.'"
"You're letting me go?"
"I can't stop you, can I? Don't answer that. I... just come back. You promised you would come back."
"Yes, I promised. I'll come back. I'll be back before you know it."
They kissed. It was deep and long, and he wished that he didn't have to go. He stood up reluctantly, walking through the apartment and shouldering the bag with his uniform in it. His lover was behind him, wrapped in a sheet.
"James?"
"Yes?" he answered as he turned around. His love, standing there framed by the bedroom door, would be an image burned into his mind forever.
"I love you."
James smiled. "I love you too, Ash."
Then he walked out the door.
- Owari -
A Pokemon Fanfic
By Sailor Seraphim
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's Notes:
This will probably be the only Pokemon fanfic I write. I was attacked by the plotbunny which gave me this idea and forced me to write. It has long since drifted back to the ether.
I do not own Pokemon or its related characters. I merely own the situations presented in this fanfic. I am not doing this for money. I'm just a poor college student with semi-literary aspirations. Do not sue me!
Oh, and if you do not like descriptions of adults behaving like adults (or implications of yaoi), you probably shouldn't read this story... even if it isn't really that graphic.
Enjoy! //(^_^)\\
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was eight 'o clock in the morning.
He stared at himself in the mirror, comb in hand, like he had done every other morning for years. But this morning wasn't like the rest. This morning was different. He wouldn't go so far as to say it was special, but it certainly was different. And it was driving him crazy.
He had gotten the phone call a little more than twelve hours before. He had been just about to start preparing dinner when the phone rang. He answered it. In hindsight, he should have let the machine pick it up; but, he knew he would have picked up once he heard who was on the other end.
He looked at his reflection again, resisting the urge to punch his fist through the mirror. He didn't like seeing his face in the mirror this morning. He closed his eyes.
It had been a standing tradition in the apartment that whoever came home first had to cook dinner. This was mutually beneficial for the both of them, since they had fluctuating work schedules. Actually, the two of them falling in love and living together was a miracle in and of itself. He had thought for years that anything between them would be utterly hopeless and full of strife. But, due to the willingness from the both of them, their struggles together, and their love, they had stayed together. They had turned the apartment into a home. Well, that and their amazing sexual chemistry wasn't a turn off either. His lover had proved that quite thoroughly last night. He spared a glance over his shoulder and smiled at the figure still sprawled asleep in bed.
After the phone call, he had spent somewhere close to half an hour trying not to break down into hysterics. What would he say? What could he do? He surely couldn't explain his absence to his lover, who would most definitely be hurt by his leaving. He had pushed all thoughts out of his head though, and realizing that his lover was due to come home soon, he threw himself into the effort of making a fabulous dinner. It would be a romantic evening. Dinner, wine, candles, and their king-sized bed. If he couldn't be with his love tomorrow, he would certainly prove that he loved tonight. It seemed like a flawless plan. Brown eyes had sparkled in surprise the second they stepped through the door.
"Why did you do this?" was asked simply.
"Because I love you," was the simple answer.
And so they wined, dined, and finally collapsed together on the bed, making love throughout the night. It had made him ecstatically happy. It had made him forget the phone call. Then, tousled black hair had fallen asleep in his arms, murmuring contentedly, "I love you. I'll never forget tonight for the rest of my life." That sent reality crashing back down on him. No, he silently answered. You won't forget tonight because you won't forget tomorrow either.
Then he had fallen asleep.
When he had woken up, it was almost as if the phone call had been a fantasy, a bad dream, but the remains of last night's dinner and the slim naked form cuddled against him in the bed were proof that everything was all too real. He opened his eyes, taking one last look at his figure, patting down a few stray strands of lavender-colored hair. Then he proceeded to get dressed in his normal clothes. His other outfit was already packed and waiting out in the hall. Pristine white and black... the glaring red logo... It all brought back painful memories. Memories he knew his partner shared. Maybe he could leave before his lover woke up. Just go out like every other day... but he wouldn't come back. That seemed to be a better option than telling the truth. Better than facing tear-filled brown eyes. He had pulled on his slacks and was about to decide to do just that when he realized that dinner would be waiting for him if he went through with it. The slim form in the bed would come home and prepare dinner, waiting for him to come back. Then the hours would tick by and his love would get worried. Frantic phone calls, sleepless nights. No, he loved his partner far too much to do that. He had to explain. Just as he finished tying his tie, a rustle caught his attention. He whirled around like a deer caught in headlights.
"You're leaving, aren't you?" the somber voice asked.
"Uh... yes, I'm going to work now."
"No, I mean you're *leaving.* You're leaving me."
"I... wouldn't call it that... exactly..."
"Then what would you call it?! I saw your long boots by the door! I know what that means!"
"I..."
"Are you coming back?"
"I..."
The slim hands that had touched him so gently in the night were now balled into tight fists in the bed sheets. Slim shoulders shuddered with the force of suppressed emotion. The sight made it feel like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. "I should have known that this would happen someday. That you would get some letter with no return address or a mysterious phone call. I should have known that they would take you away from me."
That was the last straw. He broke down, rushing across the room and clasping the figure in the bed into his arms. "No! I'll come back! Just this one last time. This is the last time I'll leave. It's important. Then I'll be back. I promise."
He stared down into his lover's beautiful brown eyes, which were swimming with tears. "You've broken promises before."
They were both crying now, his lover clinging to him like a lifeline. He embraced back, not wanting to leave but knowing that he had to. "Dammit! I love you! If I say I'll be back, I'll be back! What more do you want from me?!"
"I want you to stay here! We gave up everything for each other. I lost all of my friends, all of my family, because I loved you. Just stay here. Stay here with me. They'll get the idea and leave you -- us -- alone."
"You don't know them," he replied bitterly. But he wanted to. He so wanted to stay here, where he was happy. He didn't want to face his old life again, the one filled with defeat, loneliness, and failure. He wanted to stay here, strip off his clothes, and make love to the person already in the bed. But he couldn't. He had to go, because of --
"You love her, don't you?"
He was startled. "What?"
"You love her. That's the real reason you're going, isn't it?"
"I don't--"
"Don't lie to me! Just say it, goddammit! You know it's true!"
"Yes..." he replied meekly. "I love her."
"More than me?"
"NO!" he yelled, shocked. How could his lover even *ask* that question? "I don't love her more than you. Different, but not the way I love you."
"That's something, I guess."
Silence.
"I... guess you better go now, before you're late for 'work.'"
"You're letting me go?"
"I can't stop you, can I? Don't answer that. I... just come back. You promised you would come back."
"Yes, I promised. I'll come back. I'll be back before you know it."
They kissed. It was deep and long, and he wished that he didn't have to go. He stood up reluctantly, walking through the apartment and shouldering the bag with his uniform in it. His lover was behind him, wrapped in a sheet.
"James?"
"Yes?" he answered as he turned around. His love, standing there framed by the bedroom door, would be an image burned into his mind forever.
"I love you."
James smiled. "I love you too, Ash."
Then he walked out the door.
- Owari -