Warning: Contains spoilers and some love-doviness between two guys—you have been warned.

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Similarities
When Barry and Paul take a moment to have a nice conversation with each other, they realize they have more in common than they would've ever thought. ColdCoffee, Barry/Paul

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Stuffing his cold hands hastily in his pant pockets, the purple-haired boy trudged against the snow white ground, the low crunching beneath his feet indicating the wintery wonderland was still fresh. A long breath escaped from his chapped, frozen lips, the hotness of it showing through the chilly air. His flushed, pallid face succumbed to the sporadic winds cutting adjacent the apples of his cheeks. Short shivers ran down his spine frequently; he figured if his Pokèmon could handle the bitter cold, so could he, but at this very moment in time all he proved was that he was wrong—he couldn't stand the brisk Mt. Silver air, nor could his Pokèmon, save for Magmortar, and, for a short while, Torterra even.

Heaving out a few more long breaths, the air around him reacting the same way as before, the purple-haired boy snatched for the side of his grey backpack and rummaged through it hurriedly, reaching out the proper Pokèball he was looking for. With one swift motion, he threw it lightly in the air as a red beam shot out of it, his flying Pokèmon appearing right before him. He sighed and jumped on, mumbling under his breath with directions insisting his Hunchkrow fly to the nearest Pokèmon Center. Loyally, the huge, black bird took flight in an instant, the strong winds hitting his face with an even greater force. His arm subconsciously covered his face in attempt to block out the majority of the razor-blade winds in succession.

His position stayed like this for a few more minutes, until the shrilling sound of his Hunchkrow's cry suggested they were at his requested destination. Hopping off, he gently patted the soft black feathers of the bird and returned it back in its Pokèball in an instant, heading towards the cozy-looking center quickly. Thereupon entrance, the pinkish tint of his face settled down to its normal coloration, a feeling of relief and warmth hugging the entirety of his body. The only other craving his mind was nagging him for was for a nice, hot cup of cocoa.

The purple-haired boy inched towards the front desk of the center and nonchalantly asked for a warm beverage, inevitably receiving a cup of tea, lest anything his ten-year-old mind would actually mind drinking. However, he took the cup and faked a grateful "thank you," carefully balancing the hot cup in his hands as he slowly walked towards an empty table. As he sat down, another feeling of relief surged through his body, and he began slightly sipping the tea—completely bitter, a taste that even more calmed his normally aggravated demeanor—enjoying the moment of peace he experienced barely ever.

Of course, at a time like this, gentle, peaceful moments never lasted for even a fraction of a minute when concerning the purple-haired boy. Right after his first sip of the bitter tea, a loud and awfully-familiar voice rang through the vacancy of the center, its echoes stinging his ears painfully. A short interlude of silence commenced, and immediately afterwards, the loud, shocked voice returned with full intensity, its volume increasing every passing second until the yells were practically right beside him—and, unfortunately, when he veered his head to his side, he regrettably had to say the owner of the shrieking was right next to him.

The blonde, his face glowing with a deep ruddiness, plopped his shivering body in front of the purple-haired boy. The overly ecstatic grin plastered against his face made him react with excessive twitching; there was only one person he knew of whose smile could annoy him as much as it did right now, and that person went by the name of—

"Barry, 'member me?"

The purple-haired boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat but restricted his mouth to release any kind of speech that could inevitably lead to a conversation. Instead, with an iron wall of ignorance, he took another small sip of his tea and glared uneasily to the side, avoiding as much eye contact with the blonde as possible. However, his attempts at ignorance proved to be useless when, after a few mere seconds of awkward equanimity amongst each other, the blonde asked again, only in a louder tone, "Barry, remember? That time at Mt. Coronet, you saved my life! And at that other time at Stark Mountain, well… I saved your life! So, I guess that makes us even then, huh?" His sparkling orange eyes gleefully stared at him with obvious mirth. "Oh, but… but…! I remember you saying that you owed me one, so it would actually be nice if you talked to me, y'know?"

The excruciatingly obvious hint at conversation stabbed wholeheartedly at the purple-haired boy's conscience, his still-chapped lips quivering slightly with the question of whether or not to heed the blonde's hidden begging. And, although his mind had been relatively winning the war of whether or not to contribute to the horrid conversation, his lips deemed to disapprove this and acted all on its own by unconsciously releasing the words, "Is that so?"

Flamboyantly orange eyes dazzled in surprise at the half-anticipated, half-doubted response, but took it in with extreme bliss, content with a possible and greater chance of having a conversation with Paul. "Yeah, yeah! But anyway, on another topic, what're you doing in Blackthorn?"

"I should ask you the same"—the purple-haired boy took another short sip of the bitter tea, musing at the idea of actually talking to the annoying, blonde nuisance, but figured it couldn't hurt too much; if his punishment of telling him that he "owed him one" was to only talk to him, then he couldn't be bothered with it as much as the other possible hideous scenarios cluttering his head—"but, to simply answer your question, my journey at Mt. Silver didn't work out too well."

"Oh, Mt. Silver? I was just training there, actually! But, the cold… Wow, it's crazy! Flying with Staraptor from there to here was almost impossible 'cause it was so cold!" His hands started caressing the sides of his arms with a quick fluctuating motion, physically indicating how cold it actually was. He even scrunched up his nose with uneasiness, sticking out his tongue with disgust. "I think I nearly died from coldness!"

"Same here, but to a lesser extent. So, what are you doing here anyway?"

"Yeah, really? And, I'm only here 'cause the old man's wanting to do something in Dragon's Den or something, and it's in Blackthorn… and, well, I couldn't find anything to do here so I headed towards Mt. Silver for some extra training. I didn't really need it much since I've already beaten Ash and all"—he grinned wildly—"and I just need to get two more badges and I'm ready for the Sinnoh League!"

Upon the mention of that one name—Ash—Paul's lone brow raised peculiarly, deeming his interests digging further into the conversation. "Ash, you say? You beat him?"

"Yep! Amazing, huh? His Gible was a cinch. It didn't stand a chance against Empoleon at all!"

"Gible…?"

"He caught it just a few days ago. And, I mean, it is a tough little fella, I've gotta say, but its Draco Meteor needs loads of more work to perfect, and—oh, why am I talking 'bout him anyway?!"

"Aren't you his friend?"

"I guess so. But, I think we're more on par as rivals. He's more or less respectable when it comes to his Pokèmon, especially—" He stopped himself midsentence to avoid the losses he's experienced when he's battled the black-haired Pokèmon trainer and hoped that the purple-haired boy in front of him wouldn't realize.

Of course, he made no mention of the interesting pause and just continued talking. "Same here, but to a greater extent. I can't say I actually respect him, though."

"Eh, that's sorta true for me too. It annoyed me so much seeing him beat the Hearthome gym leader when I cou— I mean, right after I beat her. I mean, her Pokèmon was probably weakened from my fighting, so of course it would be a cakewalk for him, y'know?"

"Sure," the purple-haired boy said calmly, shrugging. He then took another slip, the yellowish green liquid almost completely gone from the cup.

"But yeah, let's stop talking 'bout him for now. He's not so important." The blonde nonchalantly waved his hand and looked to the side with a bored-out-of-my-mind façade, but that mask didn't last long when his optimistic voice got ahead of himself: "Hey, what's your favorite color, Paul?"

Again, Paul's brow raised in a mixture of suspicion and confusion, his lips twisting with those same feelings. "Why? …I don't have one anyway."

"I bet you do! C'mon, just think about it!"

The purple-haired boy didn't even bother musing on the question. Instead, he quickly answered with a, "Blue," which he could've agreed is partly the truth; the vibes of calmness the color blue gave off relaxed him so—even after having to deal with the everyday idiots he manages to bump into. His soulless black eyes scrutinized the happy-go-lucky demeanor of the person adjacent him.

"Really? Oh wow, same with me! It's just such an awesome color, isn't it? Plus, my very own Empoleon is blue; he's the absolute best. What's the yuckiest thing you've ever had to do?"

By now, the purple-haired boy wasn't even going to bother with wasting time asking the hyperactive blonde why in the world he was asking all these sorts of random, unrelated, and nonsensical questions. Instead, he just willingly went along with him. "When I still had my Turtwig, me and my brother were walking around this forest in Kanto and we happened to run into a Muk. That idiot wanted to catch it but ended up getting swallowed up by it"—Barry suddenly laughed out loud, the purple-haired boy smirking while mumbling, "an ironic twist of fate," under his breath—"and so I head to dive in and save him. It took months for the smell to finally die down."

"That's hilarious! Mine had something to do with a Grimer. When I was a kid, my daddy would always let me go out into the forest near Lake Verity, and one day when I was walking 'round there, I stumbled into a Grimer! I don't even think they're a native Pokèmon anywhere in Sinnoh, and later on I learned that it actually belonged to a trainer, but anyway, I was practically stuck in a pile of purple slime for hours until the trainer came back and put it back in its Pokèball. My daddy wouldn't let me go outside for a really long time, and he even made me take practically ten baths a day for a year! Why don't you try asking some questions? Oh, but before that, what about getting older makes you most afraid?"

"Becoming like my brother."

"Ah, but you're lucky you have a brother! I don't even have any siblings, but my dad is pretty cool. I wanna be just like him." Shining, bright stars formed in place of his orange eyes. "I'm really scared of losing since I've never lost before, y'know?" The blonde lied, laughing. "Okay, so go ahead and ask me something."

"What's your… favorite place?"

"Ah, that's way too easy! I've gotta say Stark Mountain, for various reasons that I won't mention. But the fact that I saved my role model at that place might possible be one. Which Pokèmon do you think is most like you?"

"A Weavile."

"Aha, that makes sense. I would've said the exact same thing! I mean, I can really imagine you being a Weavile. What Pokèmon do you think is most like me?"

The purple-haired boy didn't even have a moment's second of thinking on the subject, as if he'd already prepared having to answer this question and memorized it for years. "A Minun."

"Eh, why? I've always thought I would be something along the lines of something cool, like a Floatzel or an Electivire."

"You're small, insignificant, hyper, and full of energy like a Minun. Plus, it's blue, and if I'm not mistaken, that's your favorite color. Or would you rather be a Plusle?"

"Oh, so I see now! Then a Minun I am! You're a good listener!" The blonde flashed a toothy grin. "If you could change your first name to anything else, what name would you choose?"

"P… aul."

Barry smiled. "Ha, you're really funny, Paul! I think I can see myself as a Damion, but that's all I can think of really. Okay, lesse here… What's the strangest thing you ever brought home when you were a kid?"

"… Some time when Reggie was off collecting the Johto badges, I was still at home and was out fishing. I caught this Pokèmon from the river and brought it home, but my mother only threw it away. I turned out that it was just a piece of garbage. I could've sworn it was a Poliwag, though."

"Ha! I think once I brought home a flower for my mom on Mother's Day, but she let it back out in the wild. I actually pulled an Oddish out of the ground! Okay, okay, so would you rather work with your head or your hands?"

Just before the purple-haired boy was about to answer, a red tint smeared across his face. However, the naïve blonde didn't even seem to realize the hidden message inside that question; or, maybe, spending time with his older brother wasn't too much of a good idea. "Wh… what kind of a question is that?"

"Eh? I think it's a perfectly normal question, see?" The blonde grabbed a book from under the table and shoved it in front of the purple-haired boy's face rashly whilst saying, "I've been reading questions from this book the entire time, hehe."

The purple-haired boy's black eyes grew to an exceptional and profound size. The title of the book was apparently, "Conversation Fun for Couples." He wouldn't have minded so much at the lack of creativity the blonde had, being as desperate as to having to use a book, but the latter part of the title made him shudder slightly. He'd been asking him questions aimed towards a conversation between couples the entire time? And, for a second there, they seemed like normal, everyday questions to him!

In-between the purple-haired boy's silence, the blonde retracted his hand and looked at the front of the book, gasping. "Ah, wrong book! This is my daddy's!" He looked at his backpack and gasped again, only somewhat louder than the preceding gasp. "Ack! This is my daddy's bag!" Upon closer inspection, he laughed meekly. "Oh wait, ignore that."

Paul sighed with an irritated undertone, his frowning evident on his already-scowling face. Then, with one swift motion, he walked out of his seat and stuffed his hands back into his pockets like earlier before in the morning, his eyes unconsciously gazing outside to stare at the orangey-yellowish sky, the sun setting low in the sky. A phase of equanimity overcame him again, only to be ruined again by that same person who ruined it earlier.

"Hey, hold up, Paul!" The purple-haired boy turned around and looked at the taller, panting blonde, who was scratching the back of his head. "There's something I need to tell you!"

"What, is it another question retaining the theme of couples?" the purple-haired boy scoffed harshly, an unforgiving glare stabbing itself deep within Barry's body, piercing it with no hesitation. "Or, perhaps you're here to declare your commitment for me?"

"Uh, about that… Wait, no, there's something else. I really love you—"

Paul's eyes widened, but quickly returned to normal after a split second, his scowl setting deeper into his lips.

"…r training style! Your Pokèmon are amazing and full of grace! I love you! I envy you!"

But, before Barry could continue his never-ending ramble on everything he "absolutely loved" about Paul, the purple-haired boy had already made his way towards the door to breathe in the fresh air of Blackthorn City. That didn't last too long, though, when he realized the annoying blonde was hot on his trail.

Sending out his Hunchkrow for the second time of the day, he hopped on hastily and commanded for it to go as far away from the hyperactive blonde as possible, and even further directions in case the blonde just so-happened to follow with his Staraptor (and why he bothered remembering he had a Staraptor was beyond even him; he would have to agree that his listening skills was oblivious to even himself). And, before the blonde could even send out his own flying Pokèmon, the two were already lost in the foggy clouds.

Barry sighed and, with a small aggravated dance, started pulling out his hair in a fit. "Ack! My dad lied to me! Being subtle about these things didn't work at all! Gah!"

. . .

Returning to the place he yearned to escape from would've only made sense to a madman, but to the purple-haired boy, he found every possible reason he could think of to be back here.

Breathing in the crisp, cold, fresh air of the top of Mt. Silver, he took his hands from his pockets and raised them towards his cheeks, rubbing them furiously against to create a friction of heat. Then, he sighed suddenly, the hopes he had had since meeting the hyperactive and apparently stubborn blonde heightened to great lengths, but crushed at the same exact moment. He didn't even think it would be possible for something like that to happen—for his simple, little hopes being crushed just when they have risen. Then again, nothing seemed to ever go his way. What made him think that something he had denied frequently would ever actually happen? What made him actually think an oblivious blonde like him would realize that the purple-haired boy… what he has felt for quite some time would be something more than being rivals? Something more than friends even?

But, he couldn't blame the blonde too much, now, could he? He had always been a snobby, arrogant jerk towards him—and, well, most everyone anyway—so, why would someone like him actually reciprocate his feelings—the feelings that he have told himself were unreal for various reasons, but at times like this, found it plausible but too good to be true?

A wave of depression washed over his face. He couldn't blame himself too much, though, considering his cruelty was practically second nature to him, and the blonde should've realized that from their recurring encounters by now. And—he frowned. He shouldn't be blaming anyone any more. When did his mind even get so worked up about something like this anyway? Why in the world would he have… "indescribable feelings" for someone who was the complete opposite of what he preferred: calm, reserved, and mature?

The purple-haired boy began trudging around the top of Mt. Silver and was about to sit on a random snow-covered rock, his body insisting that he sit down and rest for a while so his mind could stop roaming into the idea of the blonde, when he heard even more crunching noises right behind him. The young trainer looked over his shoulder and was completely surprised of the figure running towards him, his hands, out of nature, reaching towards his eyes to rub them and see if what he was seeing wasn't his imagine. And it wasn't.

The figure was nearing him, his blonde hair becoming more and more visible, and eventually the whole of his body was visible, appearing before him in a split second. He was panting heavily as if from running for a very long while, and he was shivering wildly as his attire only consisted of a green tail-coat, baggy brown pants, and shoes—nothing suitable for a snowy mountaintop. "Boy," he said with a caring but lecturing tone, "what on earth are you doing here? What's your name? Are you lost?"

"Training. Paul. No." The purple-haired boy was shocked at the similarities between father and son; he was sure that this man was Palmer, the Tower Tycoon—or, otherwise known as the father of a certain blonde boy… He shook off the thought of him and frowned, looking up at the tall, towering figure in front of him.

"Paul, did you say? Sounds familiar… Ah, my son's mentioned you before!" The tall man began scrutinizing the purple-haired boy and nodded his head with satisfaction multiple times. "Ah, you seem to be in good shape. Do you train a lot, boy?"

"Yes, sir."

"And, as I've heard, you seem capable of doing everything on your own, right?"

"That is… correct, sir."

"So… I see then. You'll be a perfect candidate for my son." His eyes started to sparkle. "My boy is growing up so fast!"

"What do you mean by that, sir?" The little shimmer of hope placed deep within his innocent intentions began slightly growing into even more than just a shimmer—possibly a thread, or even a ribbon. But, the feeling of denial still kept intact, killing that smudge of hope currently arising.

"Ah, isn't it obvious? My son obviously wants you…"

Paul bit his lip, sighing sadly.

"…as a mentor! Ah, I just can't train my boy to become the best of the best like his old man anymore, with having to deal being the Tower Tycoon and all. A companion such as yourself would be perfect for him. And it might stop him from talking about you all the time. You're all he ever talks about anymore, y'know? He doesn't even talk about his old man anymore, but ah well! He's moved on for the better, and I'm proud!"

"Sir… if you don't mind me asking, what is it he tells you about me?"

"Usually he says things like, 'Paul's the best,' or, 'Paul is the coolest trainer around,' but at rare times things kept deep into his head escape his mouth and he says something along the lines of, 'Do you think this is just an obsession or something more?' Now, normally I wouldn't say my boy isn't capable of deep thinking, but… gee, that boy sure does surprise me. I mean, it's quite obvious my boy has fallen in love… and for a boy, apparently. But, well, what can ya say; not all the best of the best trainers are straight. There's some gym leaders and Frontier Brains that just so-happens to be homosexual, and—oh, I'm getting off track. What I'm trying to say is, he's in love with you but just has trouble saying his feelings sometimes. He's always in a rush, y'know, and it's hard for him to say what he needs to say sometimes… When he's talking, he gets off track, or just can't talk to some people without that book, and—wait a minute… I already answered your question a few minutes ago, haven't I? Rambling is a curse in my family, I tell you. Ah, my apologies… Paul, right?"

"That is correct, sir."

"Of course! And you're even full of manners!" The Tower Tycoon stared off into the sky and smiled at the yellowish-orange dragon flying through the foggy sky. "Ah, Dragonite's here! He's been staying at Dragon's Den with the Blackthorn gym leader for quite some time, and he seems to be in better shape than ever! Well, it seems I'll be off my way. Just be sure to take care of my son, alright?" And, with a simple swoosh of orange, he was gone in a snap.

Paul took in every single word the Tower Tycoon stated like a sponge; his hope that Barry would reciprocate his feelings—and, by now, he more or less was able to resist his constant denials about this fact—was growing to the extremes. He was almost positive that things would finally go the way he wanted. Almost.

The purple-haired boy sat down on the rock and heard more crunches of snow, musing some more on the matter. And, in around twenty minutes of just sitting in the middle of the top of a mountain, he began hearing another pair of feet crunching against the snow. The silhouette against the foggy background was beginning to take shape as it neared him quickly, eventually turning into that all too-familiar figure he's thought of constantly in countless situations.

"P-Paul!" he called out when he found the purple-haired boy sitting on the snow-white rock, his flushed face radiating with a behemoth of happiness. When he was finally close enough to talk normally to him, he looked down at him and smiled, small tears forming in the corners of his orange eyes. "I… I remembered you saying that you were training at Mt. Silver earlier this morning… and, I just thought that you might have ended up being up here again, y'know, training again or something." He eyed the young boy's loneliness. "But I guess not. Look, I'm… s… s… Agh, I'm not sure if I can say this!" He repeatedly slapped his cheeks to knock some sense into himself and breathed in a very long breath of fresh, cold air. "I'm s-s-s-s-s-s-sorry! About… earlier. I mean, I guess it was all so sudden. And… I didn't even consider what you would say, or if you would ever even think about it, or maybe I was just being a little too subtle, or maybe—" Barry was suddenly interrupted when he realized the purple-haired boy was now in front of him, his soulless black orbs staring up at him with full intensity.

"You really do talk a lot. And… I'm surprised at how well you listen, too."

"You… you really think so?!"

"I know so." The confidence in his voice seemed almost foreign to him; he had never talked in such a way before. An arrogant tone, maybe, but never so much a faithful and confident tone like this.

"Then," the blonde said softly, slowly inching towards the younger boy hesitantly. "Like I said, I'm sorry again, but I want to do this again. I… I…" His quivering pink lips somehow, although tentative, reached downwards to caress the purple-haired boy's cold ones, the supposed short kiss turning into a much heated and longer version of twisted tongues and bruising lips. The action eventually lead to Paul reaching upwards to latch his hands around the blonde's neck to move him closer towards himself and intensifying the kiss at the same time. The two stayed in that position for the longest time, with the only interruption of their kissing be it Barry's heavy push against the purple-haired boy's small, broad chest. Both boys started having out gasps, trying to breathe in as much oxygen as possible, as Barry began shivering uncontrollably, his legs eventually being overcome by his own weight. "Ack, the cold…!"

Paul smirked, somewhat content with the heated kiss—and was even enjoying the view of the ecstatic boy bouncing up and down on the snow like a lunatic. He was sure the blonde was one interesting person, and that same interesting person was apparently the exact opposite of him; yet, there were similarities that naturally paired them together, like adjacent pieces of a puzzle, bringing them together through attraction. It were these similarities that made him enjoy being with the blonde—and, at the same time, the differences that set them aside kept their personalities in check to keep their equilibrium.

And, of course, there was the fact that he was a good kisser. Now, that was nothing too far from denial; and, from the obvious blushes and gleeful tint in Barry's orange eyes, the purple-haired boy could easily assume that the blonde thought of him as a pretty darn good kisser too.

X X X

Haha, so, I fortunately don't have school today (slippery roads, and blah blah blah) and when I woke up, my sister was already telling me about the new Pokèmon opening and how BARRY was in it. So, being the rabid Barry fangirl I was, I watched it and completely fan-squealed at the ending. It showed Barry and Paul practically together! And my ColdCoffee senses started tingling, so I just started writing this. xD Woo, my first fanfiction in a very long time! And there's a lot of dialogue, yay! (Barry talks a lot more than Paul does, though. :L) It seems that I can never put the two in romantic situations, though… Gah. I was gonna do it a lot earlier in the story, in a confession scene, but that failed. And all my other "OMGCONFESSIONMOMENTS" seemed to fail too, except for the last one. xD

…Woah, I haven't written anything for a very long time. I'm so rusty. D:

And the ending wasn't anything like I originally thought it would be. D:

And woah, I reached 10 pages on Word from this. :D

But oh well. It was a good practice oneshot (and possible twoshot, since I'm just not satisfied with this) to get me back into shape a little.

Oh, and I guess you can call this a sequel to "A Paul in Need," which is a sequel to "Achoo!" I mean, considering Barry mentioned some events in them. xD

But anyway, I'm already planning on writing a Comashipping sooner or later this week. :o