(Short, mindless fluff for Valentine's Day! And for my OTP! Huzzah! Inspired by the song of the same name, which I think was covered by NOFX, so I like it... –shrugs- Anyways, shonen-ai fluff. Don't like, fuck off. Anyways, don't own, thanks for reading!)


...Drew loved Harley. Honestly, he did. The boy was just always himself, and so sweet... well, to Drew, at least. However, he wasn't always the best thing for the world at large...

It all started on one goddamn excursion to the park. Harley wanted to stretch his legs, and Drew wanted to see the playground in Slateport where Harley had probably plotted to kill his preschool teacher, or something.

They walked along happily, both of them lost in thought; Drew on how to make a better Appeal; Harley on different ways to torture May in a Battle Appeal. Two sides of the same coin, really.

"Harley?" Drew asked, hesitantly asking his older lover a question. "God, why won't that bitch just die—I'm sorry, what?" He looked at Drew, trying not to show his eye twitch from evil-thought overload.

Drew rolled his eyes. "If you're done with your homicidal fantasies, it's Valentine's Day, dolt." Harley stared. Drew glared back.

"And?" Harley raised an eyebrow. "And you should care! Hello, boyfriend? Chocolate? Flowers? Valentines?" Harley blinked. Then he smiled stupidly.

"Right! I forgot, because, well..." He grinned sheepishly at his boyfriend. Drew wasn't fooled.

"Uh, I've been too busy paying attention to you?" Drew glowered at him as they walked. The little kids peeped out from behind the slides to watch the two Coordinators argue. Cacturne and Masquerain hid, sensing that Harley was going to have a fit, and end up sleeping on the couch.

It's a wonder Drew still kept the huge bed they shared, considering all the times Harley had been refused entrance. But I digress.

"You do understand, love," Drew continued, still giving Harley a death-glare, "That, once again, I could make you sleep on the couch." The amethyst-haired man shrunk somewhat in misery.

"Pwwweeease, Drew? Don't you love me?" He pouted cutely, blinking at Drew flirtatiously. Drew sighed. Harley was a manipulator when he wanted to be, and he wanted to be one right now. Perhaps that's why they were together... Drew had no capacity to be manipulated. He could handle Harley.

But he did have to admit, Harley was the most adorable thing in the universe when he pouted. Drew sighed heavily, aware he could force Harley to do whatever he wanted. He chuckled evilly to himself. 'Oh, wouldn't this be fun...'

He strolled on, saying nothing. All the little kids were giggling at Harley behind his back, and well, they did have a reason. The svelte and gangly Coordinator was begging at the feet of someone who was about six inches shorter than he was.

"I'll do anything!" Harley wailed. Drew still said nothing, and grinned evilly. Harley fumed. Oh, Drew was going to get it later, he could assure you...

And then Harley had an idea. Act cute. And get Drew freaked out enough that he'd completely forget he was supposed to get a gift!

And as if Ariados read his thoughts, the spider pokemon chimed in, "Wouldn't it just be easier if you just bought him a nice gift?" Harley shook his head. "No, he's going to suffer."

So they walked on in silence, both thinking they had won. Finally, Harley said, "Drew, let's have a baby!"

Drew stopped in his tracks. Even his hair stopped mid-flick.

"Excuse me?" He rasped, hoping he hadn't heard that correctly. Harley smirked to himself, and continued. "Distraction! Ha! Now for phase two..." He clasped his hands together, and fluttered his eyelashes at Drew.

"Yeah, why not!? We could have a cute little kid, and name him Darius or something. And he'd have purple hair, and he'd be adorable!" He looked at Drew, who was staring at the small children with a look of abject horror on his face. Harley cheered mentally.

"Of course, I'd never actually have a kid! Perish the thought!" He growled furiously. Still, it did the trick. Drew had completely forgotten the gift.

"We're a bit... young..." Drew trailed off, unsure what to make of this entire situation. Harley grinned mischievously at him. "And, so? Celebrities do it all the time, now go home, and stay there. I'll be back." Quicker than Drew could register, Harley was gone.

Drew stared at the little kids. They stared back. Drew hissed at them, and shot off. "Dude, he's got issues..." Masquerain piped up. Roselia and Absol nodded.

Harley, however, had issues of his own.

"Gah! What to get him?!" Harley wasn't getting him a rose. And he didn't want his lover all fat from chocolate. And Drew would laugh in his face if he got him a stuffed bear.

He muttered to himself, and shoved his hat over his eyes. His lip curled as he looked at all the cutesy-little cards and frills of this holiday. They all reminded him of May...

He snarled at some little girl with brown hair, and flounced off to the music store. Why not... Drew liked music, right?

He found nothing there, either. He sighed in annoyance. All of it was either some Hannah Montana bitch, or Taylor Swift! "Well, her song does mention Drew... but I think it's from a girl's point of view, and I don't need any more gender confusion than I've got..." He sighed, and stormed out.

Harley watched the little kids pass outside. Some held their mother's hands, happily chattering about who they were giving a Valentine to. But Harley watched one girl, and his eyes lit up.

She had a red balloon. And he had an idea. He suddenly went up to the girl, and hugged her, yelling, "Thank you so much, now I'm not sleeping on the couch!" And rushed off. The little girl stared at him.

"Mommy? I just got hugged by a crazy person..." She called after her mother, shuddering.

But Harley didn't hear any of it. He rushed to the party store. "I need ninety-nine red balloons." He told the clerk, panting heavily. She jumped. "...Excuse me?" He slammed his hands down on the counter.

"My god, woman, my position in bed is at stake! Let's go, red balloons! Ninety-nine!" The scared mouse of a girl ran off to find a bag of balloons, terrified for her life.

Once he'd gotten the balloons, he headed back to the park. "Wigglytuff!" He called for his pink rabbit pokemon, who stared, annoyed, at his trainer. "Whaaat? God, you're in trouble with Drew again, right? Do you want me to kill Roselia, or what?"

Wigglytuff never did like that junkie thing. Harley shook his head. "Oh, no, I need you to inflate these balloons! Please? Or I will be in trouble!" Wigglytuff stared at his trainer.

Harley pouted. Wigglytuff sighed, knowing he was gonna have to do it regardless. Taking a breath, he inflated himself, and as Harley threw the balloons up in the air, Wigglytuff exhaled, and inflated them. Harley smiled, until he noticed they were getting away.

"Ariados! Tie them up with String Shot!" The silky strands shot up after them, and grabbed them quickly, returning them to Harley's hand. He sighed. "Let's hope this works..." He started off, Pokemon in tow.

"Well, this could work... If I knew what the hell he had planned..." Octillery offered, slightly miffed his services were not needed. Cacturne rolled his golden eyes.

"I don't think even he knows. Not like it'll work." But Harley had faith! ...And so did the Greeks, and look what happened to them. Owned.

But I digress.

Drew was pacing the house intently. "What if he does actually want a kid? But this is Harley, he hates kids, so I think he was kidding... but I don't really know... So what do I do?" He asked his pokemon. Absol shrugged, and padded off to sleep in the sunlight.

Roselia offered a rose. "Stab him in the eye?" She offered. He glared at her. Then he stopped. "Don't tell him that works, or else May's going to end up dead before the next Grand Festival." She sighed, and nodded.

Suddenly, Drew was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Harley? That you?" He opened the door, and a piece of paper flew up from the steps, and smacked him in the face. "Ow! That hurt!" He whined. Reading the note, it simply read, "Go to the backyard. –Harley"

Drew sighed, and called his pokemon out to watch. Harley was waiting expectantly in the backyard. "There you are, my love!" He fluted, blowing a kiss at Drew.

He grasped his pokeballs, and waited. Drew finally observed the scene. "What are those balloons doing here—" Harley shook his head.

"Don't talk, just watch! Behold! The Dance of the Ninety-Nine Red Balloons!" He released them, and called out Cacturne.

"Cotton Spore! Stop the balloons!" The magic floating fluffballs stopped the balloons, and manipulated them to the shape of a...

"Oh, Harley..." Drew felt touched. A heart. How cute... hey, he was pretty creative when he got desperate.

Harley snapped his fingers. "Now! Needle Arm!" Cacturne shot up, and popped each balloon, along with Banette and Octillery, whose fire attacks lit up the rubbery spheres. "A flaming heart." Drew bit his lip, and tried not to smile.

Harley turned to him. "You owe me so much. Those balloons weren't free, you know!" Drew smiled, and strode over to his lover. Standing on tiptoe, he brushed his lips against Harley's for an instant.

Harley grasped him, and held him there longer, and they stayed there happily, uncaring of the eight horrified pokemon staring at their trainers.

They pulled away and smiled at each other. "So, do I still have to sleep on the couch?" Harley asked, pouting cutely again. Drew smirked.

"Only if you promise we'll never ever have kids." Harley swung Drew up into his arms, and smiled.

"Done! Now come on love, there's another Valentine's Day surprise I want to show you..."

The two headed inside. The pokemon were left staring at the door.

"Should we go in?" Masquerain asked, wings fluttering gently. Cacturne stared. And then he shook his head slowly.

"No. In fact, let's just forget this ever happened." The others nodded. Banette looked at the sky.

"You know, it's only five o'clock. If they're inside doing whatever, why don't we go get drunk or something?" Everyone cheered their agreement, and rushed out of the backyard.

So, the moral of this story is; if you're in huge trouble with your boyfriend, all it takes is ninety-nine red balloons and the promise of pleasure, to keep you from sleeping on the couch.

Or something.