"Sweet Dreams"
By sevenfivetwo (aka animefan752)
Summary: Best friends Ike and Link face problems one after another. With an upcoming party in mind, thorns begin to jab at their seemingly flawless relationship. Why? Well, Ike secretly likes Link, who likes Marth, the legendary Pokémon Manaphy is causing mischief, Ike's love letter is stolen, everyone is sent on a wild goose chase, bodies are switched, and all hell breaks loose—why else?
Caution: Beware the intimacy between men! You might recognize it as gay, homosexual, homoerotic, shounen-ai, or yaoi, but they're all relevant! If that isn't your cup of tea, I recommend you please exit the area before you charge at me with sharpened pitchforks. Let's be civilized! I definitely don't fetishize homoerotic men, — or at least I hope I don't, — but the plot revolves around men "swinging that way." In fact, within the first few paragraphs, you'll see the sexual innuendos I'm trying to warn you about!
Disclaimer: Super Smash Bros does not belong to me. It belongs to Nintendo and company, respectively.
A/N: I'm sure you're all wondering what I'm doing, writing another fanfic before I've completed the others. Well, my mind often tends to drift and wander, much to my dismay, but I just can't help myself! Besides, inspiration came to me for this. Not only that, but after disgruntled mumblings, I've managed to smear my other ideas into this story too! Originally they were going to be their own little fanfics, and how troublesome that would've been. I will be efficient! After all, I can't even finish one fanfic, so I might as well put all the eggs in one basket and cram those ideas into one.
Nevertheless — enjoy, my beloved readers! Humor yourselves with my lame words as you read fervently. I hope your precious dreams are sweet!
Wet dreams generally weren't considered sweet dreams — but then again, in a sort of twisted way they were sweet, weren't they? After all, they had the sweetest scents, tastes, sounds, and sights, with tender caresses and fingers trailing softly along the most sensitive of places, flesh upon flesh. Who could ignore the delicious kisses and embraces their mind concocted? Lathered in a fragrance of sensual thirst, these dreams were "sweet," fantasies of naughtiness. Who could help it if they possessed a lustful appetite for pleasure? Perhaps their very definition of a "sweet dream" involved such lewdness?
Well, at least, that was what Ike concluded.
"Right, Ike?"
"Huh? W-what?" Flustered, the mercenary faced this abrupt voice, his eyes landing upon a handsome blond, who chuckled at Ike's bewildered response.
"Peach's plan on Friday, isn't it so sudden?" Grinning, he strolled alongside Ike's own lumbering pace with a spring in each step. At once the ruffled mercenary felt his heart skip a beat. "Where does she get the idea of a mingling party? It came out of nowhere! I mean, I know we all got used to her careless planning, but she should at least learn to schedule events in a more organized fashion."
"Yeah."
Oh, how could he just space out! He was ignoring his most beloved friend!
Well, again and again each week there would be some ridiculously sexual dream that teased Ike in his sleep. There he would be in his little fantasy, blinking awake and confused, and a certain someone would be there to accompany him in the most bizarre role-playing situations: sometimes at a school venue with the uniforms, or perhaps in some law-breaking business where Ike would either commit the crime or arrest the "naughty criminal," and other times in some big corporation with the inappropriately dressed secretaries and the broken copy machine.
Dream after dream, that same person would always speak in hushed whispers, right into Ike's ears. They would lean forward until their blond hair brushed against his tense skin, their moist lips parted to gasp over and over again. Oh, and how extremely hot they would feel, sweltering from the heat of their lewd movements. And it would continue downhill from there, with more touching and more rocking, with an endless intensity and vigor. Both their husky voices would cry out in dissatisfaction, always craving and longing for more. Back and forth, Ike could remember his shameless body, completely erect in excitement, savoring the taste of his partner inside and out.
Often in various positions, Ike never failed to recall how skillfully and powerfully he managed to thrust, without the slightest trace of mercy for his partner, who always looked erotic. Each thrust was unyielding, warm, and fluid, and the immediate answer of his moaning partner was to squeeze around Ike's stiff cock.
In response to this thought process, Ike choked and perspired, feeling the blistering heat of humility engulf his red cheeks.
"Ike?"
Honestly, this whole "wet dream" business was often too much to handle. If only Ike would grasp at the reality of things, pursuing a more reasonable goal. It was almost impossible — if not impossible already, — to fantasize about things like that, or even dare to associate those passions into his daily life. It was dangerous to think that way in public, where there were children like Lucas and Popo and Nana. Wouldn't he disturb the peace of Smash Mansion?
"Hello? Earth to Ike?"
Oh, his mind was buried in the deepest gutters of desire, imagining this person with familiar blond hair. The golden-haired youth, kissed by the sun and blessed with aquamarine eyes, was permanently assigned to be Ike's partner in his wet dreams. It was excruciating because that same person was the one who sent his heart thumping, hopping, and leaping into the next century! Oh, they were a glorious ray of sunshine, glimmering through the clouds and bringing light into Ike's life. In fact, their friendly smile brightened each tedious day, it kindled a pleasant flame within people nearby, and it could even pull the sun from beneath the horizon. And that lovable smile belonged to no one else but Ike's crush!
However, no matter how much the dreamy mercenary wished to proclaim his adoration, there were quite a few obstacles that stood in his way.
First of all, this one person was his best friend! Oh, one could only imagine the pain of being enamored to such a close friend, with the curiosity and the constant wanting, which could only develop into a painful love. Not only that, but — this person was a man! And on top of that, this man loved someone else! And the ambitious mercenary dreamed so naïvely for a relationship between them?
Ha!
As if anything like that could even happen in the first place! Absolutely impossible! Inconceivable, really! How cruel were these fleeting emotions, this tingling sensation that could very well be recognized as love! Ike could tear his hair out in frustration, meddled by these hindrances. He could hardly face him in broad daylight as it was, faltering and blushing and stuttering pathetically. His palms would always get clammy and making eye contact was a dangerous feat. Where would this one-sided love get him, huh? What could he possibly accomplish by liking that guy? It was just hopeless, wasn't it—?
Thud.
Ow, ow, ow, that hurt. What was that, a wall? Now there was a bitter stinging upon his face, the shock of the impact tipping Ike off balance. For a second, his vision blurred into near hallucinations, seeing hazy doubles of everything. Stumbling backwards, Ike heard the ringing laughter of his companion, his best friend, his one and only crush — Link, who approached him with a beaming smile.
"Are you okay, Ike? That looked like it hurt!" Chuckling in jest, the blond Hylian caught the faltering mercenary before he could collapse helplessly onto the floor. "You're so clumsy! Were you even looking?"
I was looking at you.
"Oh. I-I didn't realize we were turning the corner, I guess." His forehead sweaty and his hands damp, Ike stammered as he attempted not to catch Link's gaze, desperately hoping the blond would release him before his cheeks could burn any brighter.
"If you were listening, you would've heard me. I warned you. I told you to watch your step!"
Embarrassed, the mercenary didn't dare to meet eyes, feeling the vast flames of red spread across his cheeks. "S-sorry."
"Well, come on then. We'll be late to roll call. I don't want to get scolded by Master Hand. You know how he is, don't you?" Link started again as he helped tow Ike in the right direction, those cerulean eyes of his glistening. He wore such an appealing face, such an adorable expression of delight, framed by blond tresses that gave the impression of golden silk. "Let's go."
Once the harsh stinging in his face vanished, Ike stopped himself from staring indulgently into Link's eyes or anywhere else on that body. It was far too risky. Instead, he nodded obediently and began walking in strides, still recovering from his embarrassment. "Okay."
Oh, but that fire still persisted to blaze on his cheeks, staining his entire visage in humiliating red shades. He couldn't let Link catch a glimpse of his pathetic face! Link probably pitied him enough as it was!
Noticing the awkward tension building between them, Link initiated further conversation and broke the ice with a teasing chuckle. "But as I was saying, apparently Peach wants everyone to attend this mingling party. Of course she somehow forces everyone into coming in the end, but this time she's organizing it so that everyone comes in pairs, like couples. Isn't that just ridiculous?"
As the two companions leisurely walked, going about their day, Ike gradually surrendered to his desires and let his eyes gaze at the blond. Devotedly Ike watched him as he talked about the advertised party. Oh, how every single detail enchanted the doting mercenary! Those pointed ears, those soft lips, those stray blond strands, those mesmerizing blue eyes — Ike was enraptured with it all!
"Can you see anyone showing up like that? I doubt anyone would wanna!" Laughing, he suddenly flashed his eyes in Ike's direction, those cheerful pools of cerulean blinking as his eyelashes fluttered and brushed against the surface of his cheeks. In that instant, his pretty little eyes met Ike's own, — mingling with deep navy blues, — and a buoyant sensation surfaced between them. Of course, being sheepish and bashful, the mercenary soon broke from that stare, blushing profusely. Link laughed. "You know, I think it'd be a lot fun to see that happen, but it's still embarrassing. There are pros and cons to everything, after all. But I think Peach deliberately ignores the cons."
How cute could one person be? Everything about that Hylian was adorable! Not to mention Link's mundane dialogue, his voice speaking and rambling casually, unlike the passionate moaning and panting from Ike's dreams, where he would always cry out his name.
"Ahh, Ike!"
Good Goddess! With a panicked blink, the mercenary could feel his mind fleeing from his control as it dwelled on his fantasies, unable to resist temptation as he heard that voice calling out to him. With impulsive urges, Ike's blood simmered and boiled in impatience, the sweltering heat spreading through his body like a thirsty wildfire. While the temperature in his cheeks rose exponentially, tremors shook his build.
"She actually expects everyone to comply with her wishes and show up with another person as if they're dating and everything. That's awkward. I wouldn't want to defy her or anything, but isn't she pushing the boundaries a little? There should be a rule somewhere in the handbooks against that kind of behavior."
Oh, suddenly all of these inappropriate scenes from Ike's dreams flickered before his eyes, his thoughts running rampant. As he stared affectionately at Link beside him, different versions of that Link from his dreams would appear in random instants, making lewd faces that replaced his gentle smile. That was when Ike realized his wet dreams were merging with reality — his subconscious mind was aroused with the memory of Link's false panting and moaning, devising a way to imagine the real blond in a sensual manner. Such a naughty seed of lust had been planted in his mind, warping and rooting his thoughts with indecent obscenities. It was as if Ike's fantasies had been triggered, prompting Link's most humiliating noises and expressions to flash before his eyes, bursts of flustered reds spread across his body. His mind was playing tricks on him!
"Ah! Ike, don't stop!"
"I mean, I know we're both members of the Brawl Committee," Link continued, "and that her status as the president gives her the permission to make the decisions official, but I think she abuses her power too much, don't you think so?"
"Ah! That feels good, hmmm — ah!" This was the same voice. It was exactly and impeccably the same, almost uncanny. This was definitely Link's voice, but in a different setting, a totally different situation in some alternate universe. "Ike. Please — ah, it's big! It's all the way inside."
"And she does this all the time! She should really start reconsidering what being the president means. I mean, I'm glad she's enthusiastic about this, but — hey, Ike, are you even listening?" Link spoke up, reflecting his concern through the curious expression on his face. With refreshingly blue eyes, he touched the mercenary's tense arm and looked up at him. "You really need to get rid of that habit. You weren't listening to me at all, were you?"
"It's huge. How does it even fit?" Link giggled as the heat between them mingled, their heavy breaths joining together amid their hefty puffing and panting. Ike's impassioned breaths danced on his flesh, faint whispers brushing against his creamy collarbone and making it blaze in sheepish reds. "That tickles, Ike!"
"Did you hear what I just said?"
"Don't hold back."
Compelled to feel and touch his mesmerizing Hylian companion, Ike fought against his lust, ignoring his sexual appetite. The feverish mercenary was hot with coveting hunger, perspiring at an alarming rate, enticed and seduced by Link's every littlest motion. As his fantasies collided with reality, the false Link became scarlet red with embarrassment, and each stroke in his most sensitive places made him throw his head back, strands of his blond hair sweeping gracefully across his face, and oh, good Goddess!
"It's so hot, Ike! Ah!"
"Ike?"
"Ike!"
"Of c-course I was l-l-listening, Link!" He replied frantically, unable to regain his composure at the mere sight of those precious eyes, which drenched Ike in unease. As beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck, a sense of anxiety overcame his nerves. The mercenary clenched his fists and blinked furiously, as if to maintain a firm grasp on reality, frenzied and hysterical. No, stop thinking about it, don't think about it. Don't look at me like that, Link!
"Ike, are you okay?" Genuinely concerned for his friend, Link raised his blond head in an attempt to meet his overexcited eyes. Ike tried to look away without stirring suspicion, but even the slightest glance from his peripheral vision captured the Hylian's face, sending his heart drumming away in his chest. "Is something wrong?"
Please, spare me that face, Link. You will be the death of me, I swear.
How cruel love could be! Love was blunt and brutally honest! It was as though the whole world adored tormenting Ike, huh? They were telling him the cold, hard truth with a slap in the face: it was impossible. Right from the start, Ike was doomed to the fate of an unrequited love, which meant he could never declare his affections towards the blond Hylian. Regardless of how strong and prominent his love was, it was tragically one-sided and hopeless. Why? Well, Link could never possibly return his amorous feelings. He felt no significant attraction towards Ike, but instead their friend, Marth, who was presumably more suave and courteous and gentlemanly.
It would be a miracle, a truly sweet dream, if love burrowed within their hearts and sprouted into a beautiful romance. Oh, how Ike wished for such a wonder! After all, as if controlled by his infatuation, he always dismissed his misery and chased after his fantasy of a budding relationship with Link. In fact, through a humble approach, the writing of a letter, Ike believed that perhaps he could achieve that goal. Innocently handwritten, folded and creased, perched on his desk and surrounded by crumpled pieces of paper with similar words scribbled on them, was the letter Ike deemed worthy. The purest and most honest confession was scrawled in that letter, an invitation to the party that Friday, a timid request to attend as a pair — a couple.
However, this modest proposal was bittersweet. Ike was hesitant to declare that love. He was awkward and embarrassed, wanting to keep their relationship status as close friends. But there was a certain line, this "friend zone" dilemma, which could only mean there was not the slightest possibility of attaining something more. It was a double-edged sword.
Bothered by Ike's pensive expression and the furrow of his brows, Link burst into a kind smile and chuckled to ease the mood. "You know, this is why you're always knocking into things, Ike, you're too oblivious. You have to start paying attention!"
How am I supposed to pay attention when there's too much to pay attention to? I can't just concentrate when I'm too busy watching you, Link.
"You really are lost without me, huh?" With an amused sigh, the Hylian smiled at the flustered mercenary, as though his clumsiness couldn't be helped. Well, he was an absentminded person, a klutz, an airhead, a scatterbrain. From Link's own experience, he knew Ike was the type of guy who needed someone to accompany him, someone who would supervise his actions. Otherwise Ike would accidentally wreak havoc upon all of Smash Mansion and it would have been totally unintentional. "Come here, Ike, your clothes are all messed up. I'll help you fix it."
Blushing nervously, Ike returned his gaze. "Well, if y-you say so."
"Come here, then. You look funny with your clothes like that. You even buttoned it wrong!"
In a nutshell, Ike was a total crybaby. He was impulsive, emotionally unstable, and too extreme, always acting on his instincts with seemingly no rational thought. For example, if Ike accidentally stepped on Link's foot, he would turn beet red and apologize frantically before suddenly tearing up and sobbing loudly like a dying whale. Of course, Link never would have thought much of it in the first place, but Ike had a reputation for blowing things out of proportion, erupting from his lack of self-discipline.
After all, the clumsy mercenary was a dangerous package of emotion, unpredictable, irregular — a bomb ticking until the next explosion, detonating at random. In other words, Ike's roller coaster of emotion always took unexpected plunges, sudden turns, without prior warning. No one could ever decipher any kind of schedule or pattern behind Ike's outbursts; it seemed impossible to determine when his next tantrum would be.
In comparison, Link was his complete opposite. Patient, he had common sense and self-control, could express his emotions in moderation, able to communicate his feelings properly without throwing a fit or bursting into tears. For that very reason, consequently, Link became Ike's babysitter, responsible for the awkward mercenary and cleaning after his messes, befitting of the role as Ike's voice of reason and sense of direction. Every day they managed to avoid some of Ike's renowned catastrophes, disasters, and accidents because Link was there to prevent them.
Well, he did consider them to be close friends, compared to his fickle bonds with the other Brawlers. In fact, he always looked after Ike as though he were his little brother, despite being around the same age. It wasn't much different from his life in Hyrule, where the spirited children played and frolicked and Link performed the role of the older brother, making sure no one got too close to the edge or got lost or hurt themselves.
"Okay." Ike stepped towards the Hylian after looking awkwardly at his toes, which curled and giggled and squirmed excitedly in his leather boots. Immediately his heart decided to thrash wildly in his chest, pounding against his ribcage and threatening to burst from his chest.
Luckily, it seemed as though the noisy thuds from Ike's heart went unnoticed by his beloved, who smiled harmlessly at him. Ike breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing in the slightest. However, once Link's hands reached up to adjust the tousled collars on his shirt, of course the mercenary entered some distress–induced stupor and once again his aggressive heart propelled itself against his chest, thrown in a lovelorn panic. The echoes of those unyielding punches hummed in his ears, leaving a buzz that vibrated from the clamor of his heart. Swallowed by his emotions and crazed imagination, Ike felt the blush consuming his face.
Just kill me now. Put me out of my misery!
"You're really shy, aren't you?" Link laughed softly as he tugged on the mercenary's tunic and yanked at the garish fabric, stretching the wrinkles and creases out of sight. With an endearing smile, the blond Hylian patted him and snickered. "How cute."
Loud thuds rang in Ike's ears. Beads of anxious perspiration clung onto the features of his face, and, once they collected too much weight to hold their place, rolled down his clammy skin. Trembling, he knew he was insanely nervous about this — after all, in mere seconds there was suddenly no space between them! And, as lovesick as the mercenary was, only wistful thoughts brewed within him in anticipation, getting excited for nothing.
Don't stand so close to me. Good Goddess, you're all warm and your face is too close and I can feel you against me!
Far too close in proximity, the smitten mercenary found no other solution rather than to panic silently, grappling over the possible outcomes if he acted upon his instincts. Oh, but woe was Ike! He was always at a complete loss when it came to these stifling feelings, worried that these tender affections could only be thwarted. Who knew what Link could be thinking?
"You always look like a total mess every day, Ike. It never changes, no matter how many times I remind you to dress yourself properly." With a good-humored chuckle, Link buckled and fastened the belts around Ike's waist. From time to time, he would shoot playful glimpses at the mercenary's face, but each time Ike seemed to purposely dodge those fleeting looks.
Ike — you always look away.
Disheartened and troubled, Link didn't pester the mercenary about his secrecy, pressing his lips into a thin line. Oh, it was always like this, as though Ike had some grave secret to hide. He always avoided eye contact and explained very little to him, even when asked about why his exaggerated weeping was really necessary for every littlest thing, he didn't answer. It was as if he prioritized his secrets rather than the delicacy of trust, always reluctant and hesitant. Of course, Link never addressed his concerns about how guarded the mercenary was. Not even once, he never bothered Ike about his constant need for privacy, ignoring the suspicions he felt and burying his doubts. Link couldn't pry if Ike didn't want to share. So, in order to preserve their friendship, he kept his lips sealed.
Nevertheless, the fretful Hylian couldn't help but wonder what that secret could be. Despite being such a close friend, Ike refused to tell it. Why, though? Link himself already put all of his faith in him, revealing everything about his life and whatever else, trusting him with his own secrets, admitting to his flexible sexual orientation and his feelings towards Marth.
Due to his restlessness and careful deliberation, Link already tossed around the idea that maybe Ike was afflicted with social anxiety, a disorder that ailed communal interaction. However, he knew that couldn't possibly add up because at one point in his life, Ike was an esteemed general, noble and popular. And that meant he should have gotten along well with his associates and handled social exchanges marvelously.
Now unless he was only putting up some charade, Ike had some kaleidoscopic sense of character, shifting from his various mood swings, bashful to cheerful to sad in a matter of seconds.
Enlighten me, Ike. Are you keeping secrets from me?
"Umm, t-thanks for fixing me up, b-but we should probably go now." As awkward as ever, the mercenary withdrew from Link's hands, which soon dropped limply to his sides. Stubbornly choosing not to meet eyes, Ike gestured for them to move along.
"Oh, you're right." Beneath his expertly joyful façade, Link smiled ruefully. "Let's go then!"
Eventually, after being accounted for by Master Hand, the two companions were teleported into the battle arena.
For those moments, not only were their bodies transported to the brawl, but their troubled minds were pulled in as well, as both Ike and Link overlooked their uneasiness and amused themselves, losing their concerns to the commotion. Preoccupied with the joys of the brawl, it was reasonable of them to forget their worries. They escaped them through distraction. In the spur of the moment, the fun was more important, after all. Besides, during the brawl, someone was lucky enough to acquire a pokéball containing the legendary Manaphy. Interestingly enough, during their carousing, Manaphy made its grand appearance, switching Link and Ike's bodies for a limited period of time.
Of course, this didn't seem to be of much importance then, but this was such an essential moment — because when that happened, their unsuspectingly complex relationship caught Manaphy's interest. A revelation had struck the legendary Pokémon, rousing ideas on how to recover their thorny relationship to one that was honest, thoughtful, and understanding.
Si on ne sait rien d'aimer, on sait peu de la vie.
Little did the laughing Brawlers know that such a mischievous yet kindhearted creature felt much more than empathy for their current state of affairs; there was interest and curiosity and pity for the two friends. Well, perhaps it was that nosiness that compelled Manaphy to sneak out of its designated pokéball, exiting along with the Brawlers into the adventures of Smash Mansion.
And no one noticed.
Look Forward to the Next Chapter!
Side Notes:
- Yes! I did it! Less than 5,000 words!
- Love triangle, anyone? In case you need some clarification, Ike likes Link, and Link likes Marth. Sadly, we don't know what Marth thinks about this, let alone if he even knows. In the second chapter, maybe something will be revealed. Exciting!
- Manaphy speaks French, I guess. Well it seemed fitting at the time, anyway.
- You know when faced by some phenomenal situation, in the spur of the moment we go, "Good God!" or "oh my God!" and so on? Well I know that in both Ike and Link's original games, their gods are female, so I assumed the phrases would just take a turn from god to goddess.
- In case anyone was concerned about the vast change in personality, I was only trying to get across the fact that Ike — like anyone else — can be totally flustered around his "crush" to the point in which he can't communicate properly. That's normal, right? I might have exaggerated it a lot, but it's for the comical effect! Besides, I think it's adorable how Ike can be so head-over-heels that he loses all sense of direction!
- So the relationship between Ike and Link has been exposed in this chapter. They are friends and Link mentions how he always looks after Ike like a "little brother." Now this doesn't have to be true, but I like to think that it is because I believe that in their original games, Ike's around 17 years old, and Link is somewhere around 18 or 19, so yeah.
- You'll probably want to know this for future chapters, so I might as well tell you now! The members of the Brawl Committee consist of president Peach, Marth, Mario, Fox, Zelda, Samus, Kirby, and Link.
- I'm aiming for ten chapters, ten being the maximum. Originally it was going to be five chapters, but I realized how long those chapters would've ended up being, so I lightened the load and made it ten short chapters instead. For the most part, I've already settled on the plot, — and I promise it won't crumble pathetically like everything else I've written because I've scrubbed it and brushed it and added all sorts of spicy details — but towards the end it gets a little shaky, which I know I'll end up revising plenty of times.
- Reviews? I'd love to hear your opinions! I have no intention to request too much of you, my beloved readers, but allow me to overcome my mistakes with your constructive criticism, supporting me with your words of advice.