" … and in breaking news, a Team Aqua hideout has been located and raided. Aqua members had been tipped off of the raid and had cleaned out much of their hideout by the time the authorities arrived. Remaining documents have been seized. Members managed to evade capture, but the operation has been deemed a success. Officials warn that this is not Team Aqua's main headquarters and for civilians to keep their eyes open for suspicious behavior. If you suspect an area is being used for Team Aqua or Magma activities, contact a skilled trainer or local Gym Leader to investigate …"
Maxie switched off the television with a smug smile. He'd bugged an Aqua Grunt's phone and thought he'd got nothing good out of it, only listening in on constant home remedies to cure seasickness. Finally after months, he'd hit jackpot. When he'd heard about the raid, he'd leapt at the opportunity to send Courtney into the hideout. Normally the heavily guarded place was impossible to get into, but the grunts had gone into panic-mode. They were unlikely to notice some strange female in a stolen pirate's outfit, running through the building, picking up folders. She just looked like any other Aqua member, trying to clean the place up before the authorities arrived. Her daring escape from arrest was lauded by her team members when she arrived back at the Magma hideout.
After congratulating his admin, he went over the collection of papers in private. He didn't come up with much. Most were just invoices for Aqua uniforms or plans from the past that'd already been battled. Of course, there was the endless speculation of where Kyogre may be hiding, all as useless as Magma's own notes on Groudon.
The only thing of interest was a carved wooden paperweight, a trio of colored buttons on three of the sides. He examined it closely, before putting it at an arm's length. Pressing two of the buttons did nothing, but on the third one, he yelped, something small and sharp shooting out and smacking him in the mouth.
He narrowed his eyes at the bloody razor blade that had flown out, hand over his cut lip. If it was booby-trapped, there was something important inside. Pulling out a handkerchief to stem the blood, he stared at the box, trying to work it out.
It took him a minute to recognize it. A trinket Archie had bought at the market in Slateport. Back when they weren't sworn enemies.
The memory that attacked him was sharper than any razor. It had been a hot weekend. Archie's turn to pick somewhere to visit. Normally when Maxie picked, they'd end up trekking around the desert or relaxing in Lavaridge.
They'd been sitting on the beach, drinking soda, Maxie making fun of the other man trying to solve the riddle. Obviously, there hadn't been any built-in flying weapons back then. Maxie smirked. He remembered when Archie had started growing out his beard. Maybe because he'd put his razor in a puzzle box and couldn't be bothered getting himself a new one. It was a typical thing of him to do.
After an inspiring amount of patience and good-temper, Archie had found a well hidden lever built on the fourth, seemingly plain side, the buttons having been a red herring all along. Finally opening the damned thing, there'd only been a measly note saying Congratulations! inside. Archie had cursed, nearly chucking it into the ocean, Maxie snorting his soda up his nose with laughter.
Shaking his head, the man came back to the present day, trying to ignore the tightness that had suddenly coiled up in his chest. He turned the box to the blank side and started scratching around for the lever. It took him a few frustrating minutes, the menial task distracting him from his memories. When it opened, he found a map of Slateport, the shipyard and museum circled in red. Nothing else written, even when he checked for invisible ink. He pushed his glasses up his nose. Something to investigate. Something to thwart.
He leaned back in his chair. The plans for Mt. Chimney were coming together and now he had a lead on what his enemies were up to. Today couldn't have gone better. Well, except for his cut lip of course.
A week after the raid, he found himself in his bedroom, going through his wardrobe and muttering to himself. There were sudden footsteps down the hall and he looked around.
"What're you looking for boss?" Tabitha said at the doorway. "Need any help?"
Maxie had returned to his rummaging.
"I am in need of some … casual clothes," he said. "I'm going to Slateport. I think showing up in my usual attire would … uh … alarm the citizens."
His admin chuckled.
"Why don't you send a grunt instead? Heck, I'd be honored to do a bit of digging around … "
Maxie shook his head.
"No, I'd prefer to do this myself. I have reasons to believe Team Aqua has a plan of great magnitude under way, much like our own for Mt. Chimney."
Tabitha looked at him curiously.
"If it's such a big plan, why haven't you gone down sooner?"
At this, the man straightened up from the cupboard, clasping his hands behind his back.
"Now, listen carefully," Maxie said. "The Aqua slime are convinced the authorities have their plans, so they'll be on guard at Slateport, ready to strike at any hint of investigation. Yes, it is true they're not expecting Team Magma, but the point remains that if we had went to Slateport at once, we would've been instantly captured. We don't want to alert them to the fact that we're in on their plans."
Tabitha nodded at this.
"That's good thinking, boss," he said.
"I know it is," Maxie replied a little irritably. "That's why I'm the leader and you're the admin."
The other man laughed again and his boss frowned.
"I haven't finished," he said. "Now, waiting a few days means lowered defenses. Waiting a week means I have most certainly lured them into a false sense of security. Those idiots probably think the officials haven't figured out their little puzzle box yet. Patience, Tabitha is key to success. Recklessness leads to the road of disaster."
His admin grinned with approval. Still frowning a little, Maxie turned back to the cupboard, readjusting his glasses. He pulled out the most casual clothes he could find, a short-sleeved, button down shirt and a pair of plain trousers.
"Wait here," he said. He walked into the bathroom to change in privacy, locking the door.
It was going to unpleasant dressing in regular clothes. Whenever he put his formal Magma attire on, Maxie always felt in charge, in control as a leader should. He reckoned it was the same reason why Archie styled his beard in that ridiculous way, why he wore that gold anchor. To feel intimidating.
Getting into the new outfit, he glanced at the mirror wearily. He didn't like to admit it, but one of the reasons for his multiple layers was because without them, his scrawniness became ridiculously apparent. He sighed. Long skinny neck, ribs sticking out, his elbows knobby and the patchy ginger hair everywhere. Looking closer, he saw the crow's feet around his eyes and the lines around the corners of his mouth. In his usual outfit, he thought his few wrinkles made him look distinguished, but in this outfit, he just felt old.
Managing to shake himself out of his moping, he walked out. Tabitha's eyes widened and he broke into a smile.
"You look nice!" he said encouragingly. "Like a teacher … or someone's Dad … "
The other man shifted on the spot, tugging his sleeves over his freckled upper-arms.
"That's beside the point," he said. "Do I look like the great Maxie?"
His admin paused to consider this, rubbing at his chin in thought.
"You still look like an intellectual to me," he said. "I think you need to go the opposite way and dress like you're completely average."
"I don't have average clothes," Maxie said. Tabitha just waved his hand.
"Don't worry, boss. I've got just the thing."
He marched off down the hallway, reappearing a few minutes with an old t-shirt and a baseball cap.
"Me and Li'l Steam-Engine play fetch sometimes, gotta have normal clothes y'know?" he explained. "Do you have sweatpants? That'd make you look so average, no-one would ever think you were the great Maxie for a second … "
Maxie fell quiet. The memory came to him, of the days when none of his or Archie's Pokémon knew Fly and trips to other towns took days. Of how they'd search for any place that would take them in for the night. How Maxie had wanted to check out Meteor Falls, Archie only interested because of the waterfall. The trip over had been long and tiring, the bigger man's constant complaining about all the ash and dust certainly not helping. They'd stopped by Fallarbor to find somewhere to sleep, one of the farm-houses giving them the spare room. He remembered Archie's exasperation when he'd walked out of the bathroom in his pajamas; a pair of sweatpants and a heavy sweatshirt.
"It's as hot as hell for Arceus' sake!" he said, throwing up his hands. "Yer gonna die of heatstroke in the middle of the night!"
"You could put me on the sun and I'd still get cold," Maxie had replied, getting into his separate bed and gathering the sheets tightly around him. He remembered turning the lamp off and getting out a book with a little flashlight so he could read before going to sleep. How he'd glanced up over the top of the book and saw the other man strip down to his boxers without a second's hesitation, settling down on top of his sheets.
"G'night," he said, stretching out and getting comfortable. Maxie remembered thanking the darkness for hiding the sudden heat burning in his face. How his throat had gone tight, how he'd tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry …
"Good night," he said and thanked himself for managing to keep his voice so steady and calm.
He blinked back into reality and looked away from Tabitha who was still standing in the doorway, waiting for him to answer.
"Uh … yes," he said. "I've got them around here somewhere. Wait here for a moment."
After finding the sweatpants in his cupboard, he went back to bathroom and quickly changed. When he walked out, his admin gave him the thumbs up.
"Fantastic!" he said. "Now you look like a hippie."
He allowed him the slightest of smiles.
"Not like the great Maxie?" he asked. He noticed he was standing up very straight and forced himself to slouch a bit, sticking his hands in his pockets. Tabitha nodded so hard, it looked like he was trying to take flight.
"Not all, not at all!"
"Good," Maxie said. "Very good. Thank you for your assistance, Tabtiha."
"Anytime boss," the other man replied, saluting him with a grin. The Magma leader strode out the door, before remembering to make it more of an amble.
Time to get down to Slateport.
Flying in on his Crobat, he wrinkled his nose up at the smell of sea-salt in the air, Wingulls shrieking, endless crowds of people moving around the streets, most heading for the beach. He was struck at how funny it was that no-one looked at him twice. Walking down the street, past the Pokécentre, he tugged the cap down over his eyes and remembered to hunch over. The other reason he layered himself became apparent as his teeth chattered, the cool breeze feeling like it was cutting into his bones. He rubbed his arms, trying to warm himself up.
It was remarkably better then he thought, walking around without being so covered up. Maybe it was because Tabitha's t-shirt was much too baggy on him, his frame swimming in the fabric, hiding away all the weird angles that made up his body. Or maybe because in his rundown costume, he didn't feel like the great Maxie anymore. If the crowds thought he looked funny, it wasn't him they were making a joke of. It was this odd new Max the hippie man. And he didn't think old Max gave two shits about what other people thought.
Smiling a little to himself, he went into a nearby café, waiting in line to get himself a pastry. He'd figured it'd look suspicious if he just stood outside the Oceanic museum or the Shipyard and stared. Standing outside while munching on something would hopefully just make him look a gawping tourist. And besides, he was hungry.
He made his way to the museum first, making sure to look around with a vapid smile on his face. He was old Max the hippie, he kept reminding himself. Old Max the hippie had never been to such a big town before. Old Max was from Verdanturf with the flowers and the Friendship Rater. Slateport Town blew old Max the hippie away man.
He remembered Verdanturf Town's slogan and laughed so loud, a uniformed woman outside the doors glanced around at him.
"What's so funny, sir?" she said in a cheerful voice. He knew she was just trying to get him into the museum, but he didn't care. Pretending to be Max was turning out to be surprisingly fun.
"It's just sometimes I'm so in love with the world y'know, it's just so beautiful," he said, opening his arms up wide. "All the colors and the creatures of the earth and the sunshine man, it just makes me wanna laugh, y'know. I'm just so fulla love … "
In the back of his mind he thought about how he should have been an actor. The woman was nodding, still smiling wide.
"That's wonderful sir," she said. "I'm sure you can have an even brighter day inside our museum ... "
"Oh, but you brightened up my day with your smile," he said. The woman blinked and her cheeks went pink. Maxie's chest lurched. Had he just accidentally flirted with someone? He hadn't meant to. It looked like old Max the hippie man had more game then he ever would.
"Um … I'm going to have my pastry now," he said, quickly walking off. Maybe he should reel in the act a bit for now. What was his plan again? Look around the outside of the Museum for a bit, then go in and investigate. After that, do the same to the Shipyard.
He pulled his unhealthy snack out and took a big bite, wandering around to the end of the path that overlooked the ocean. Looking into that endless blue made his shoulders creep up underneath his ears with unease. He turned and gazed up at the building, the woman at the front-door looking into the crowds for a potential customer. Nothing about the place screamed unusual from the outside. He remembered the puzzle box, how the solution was hidden away beneath distractions. Hidden away inside?
He munched steadily away, before he realized he'd been staring too long, his face fallen back into it's shrewd Maxie stare, his back straight as a rod. He slouched and smiled again, looking off at the beach in the distance.
He saw the trainers fighting, their pokémon jumping and blasting away at each other. A Zigzagoon fell over in a faint against the sand, their young swim-suited trainer bursting into tears. Families were sprawled around in sunhats, rubbing sun-cream into their squirming toddlers. Kids chased each other around, teenagers splashed each other in the shore, even further away, trainers were perched on Tentacools and Lotads, yelling out their commands. He found himself distracted by someone emerging from the water in a particularly nice pair of swimming trunks, getting a towel and rubbing it through his hair. He caught himself and turned back to the museum. That wasn't the old hippy acting up now, that was just regular Maxie. He smirked to himself and finished off his pastry, crumpling the sugary paper.
Something niggled at the back of his neck. There was a feeling in his belly, that he'd missed something. Something obvious. He gazed at the woman at the front-door more sharply, but then shook his head. It wasn't her.
There was a faint whisper in the back of his mind, telling him something. He tried to make it out, the scream of children, crashing sea-waves and the bustling crowds beating into his head.
The beard, that guy's beard …
His eyes widened and he whipped back around to the beach at the person he'd just been staring at, the guy who was striding through the beach and towards the main street. His towel over his broad, tanned shoulders. No wetsuit, no bandana …. but it was him. It was still definitely him.
"Shit," Maxie said under his breath. He tugged his cap back down over his eyes, making himself look as casual as possible. After the shock had worn off, he felt a thrum of triumph in his chest. If this went the right way, Archie could end up leading him straight to his plans. He saw the man approaching the museum and shifted so he was as out of sight as he could manage. He could have laughed again. This was going to be too easy.
"G-good morning sir … !" he heard the door-woman say, much higher and squeakier then before.
"It's a great morning now," said the man and Maxie felt his memories stir once again. Archie's voice had dipped down low. Back in the day when the money was always short, he'd use that voice to coax bargains and freebies out of shop-keepers.
"You can do it too, Maxie," Archie had told him, after he'd made an old woman stutter and blush so hard, it looked like she might just explode from charm-overload. "See, when I was a wee scamp, I couldn't talk to no-one without makin' a mess of it. But then I learnt this trick, eh? In your mind, say 'Maxie used Attract. It was super effective.' It sends your confidence out the roof, let me tell ya … "
"It sounds idiotic," he'd replied. The other man shook his head.
"Why does it work for me then?" he asked with a crooked smile. Maxie had looked away.
"You're different," he said, so quietly that he didn't think Archie had even heard him.
"Seriously," he went on and then pointed at a small restaurant down the road. Inside they saw a man behind the counter, fiddling at his white whiskers.
"Just watch me," he said. "I'm gonna get us a free meal."
"He looks about ninety years old," Maxie said, beginning to laugh.
"Still getting a free meal," he replied, striding over towards the restaurant. "Archie used attract!"
In the end, they had gotten their free meal with added dessert, a stack of coupons and were made to promise they'd come back soon, or risk breaking the old man's poor little heart.
Maxie refocused on what was happening over at the museum.
"Well, th-there's an entrance fee, sir," the woman said.
"But you'd gimme a discount, wouldn't ya?" he replied teasingly. She let out a nervous laugh.
"I don't think so."
"Aw," he said. "That's made me real sad now."
Then he looked around and Maxie turned away, putting the dopey expression back on his face. Archie's eyes swept over him without a flicker of recognition. He silently begged for the door-woman to give in and let him through already, but it seemed like she was made out of stronger stuff.
"Yer not gonna force me to rob a tourist, just so I can get in?" Archie said with a lopsided smile and she laughed, more genuine this time.
"Oh you don't strike me as a thief, you're much too nice for that … "
Maxie snorted and then coughed to try to hide it. Both of them glanced over and he jammed his hat so hard down his head, he nearly snapped off the visor.
Archie looked away and opened his mouth like he was going to say something. He paused and Maxie felt his heart do a sick thump in his chest. The Aqua Leader refocused on him, rubbed at his eyes and blinked a few times. Then after staring for a few seconds, he refocused on the door-woman.
"That's very kind of you to say," he said in his deep drawl. "But it's too late, you've already pushed me to a life of crime ... got anythin' to say for yerself?"
"I'm very, very sorry, from the depths of my heart," she said with a smile.
"You're forgiven," he said, smirking. "I'm off. See you some other time, alright?"
"I'll be looking forward to it," she said brightly. He started striding towards the Magma Leader, who was stuck between dropping the old Max act because he'd been clearly found out, or keeping it up for the door-woman's sake.
"Hey there, Mudfucker," Archie said almost affectionately. "I thought I'd find ya here."
"Hello Pond Scum," Maxie said snidely back. "Very clever of you to approach me like this and make us both more easily recognizable."
The man's smirk grew wider.
"I don't think they're gonna recognize us. Especially the great Maxie out in his pajamas."
The smaller man sent him a very thin smile, one that didn't reach his eyes.
"They might have an easier time spotting you then, practically naked as usual."
Archie laughed heartily. In the forefront of Maxie's mind, his own words repeated over and over; lulled into a false sense of security. It's what made the Aqua Leader so much more dangerous then he looked at first glance. He knew how to put people at ease, make them feel comfortable. At the thought, he felt himself almost steel up, shielding himself, his body becoming as unmoving as rock.
They both looked around, checking that no-one was watching them. He had to admit, they looked very suspicious, a bespectacled red-head and a bearded muscle man engaged in a vaguely hostile conversation.
They both started walking towards the main road at once, with a false sense of ease, like they were just two buddies hanging out.
"So whatcha doin' in these parts, eh?" said Archie, as they headed for the beach.
"Visiting," he replied, feeling the back of his neck burn underneath the searing sun. They went into the Seashore House, that was half-full of sweaty customers dripping water and sand over the floor.
"Yeah, o' course," the bigger man remarked. "Slateport's definitely your type of place to visit."
A Wingull screeched from outside, followed by a particularly loud crash of waves against the beach. Maxie kept on smiling, showing too many teeth. At the counter, they gave their orders and he changed his face to the old hippie grin for the person serving them. After they'd collected their ice-cream floats, walking out of the building again, Maxie's face returned to it's usual sneer.
"I detect a trace of suspicion in your voice," he said, after they'd settled down on a patch of hot sand, overlooking the ocean. "What exactly do you think I'm doing here then? Please, enlighten me."
Archie just sent a hand through his beard.
"Oh, I dunno," he said and the friendly tone in his voice seemed to be disappearing, turning into something dark, something that would've intimidated a lesser man into compliance. But Maxie was very used to it by now.
"Let me just ask you somethin'," he said, sipping ice-cream and soda through his straw. "Just where exactly were ya when that raid was on?"
He felt himself smirking back at him, mainly to hide the shock of 'how in the hell does he know?'
"Yes," he said, stirring his spoon through his glass and taking a mouthful. "I heard about that, it was all over the news. My greatest sympathies go out to you of course … "
"Maxie," the bigger man said, so low it was like a rumble deep in his chest. He couldn't help it. He shivered.
"Where," he continued, emphasizing each word; "were ya at the raid?"
The voice in his head was screaming at him to keep his composure, not to falter, never falter. He looked down his nose at him and most people would've been cowed by the face he pulled. But Archie had seen it too many times already.
"Washing my hair," Maxie replied with his mocking smile. Archie stared at him for a good long moment. Then suddenly he shifted closer over the sand, right into his personal space. All at once, Maxie became too aware of him, how his tanned brown skin still glistened with seawater, his breath, warm and heavy. His smell, like salt and sharp, clean sweat … and he forced himself to not look at the stretch of thick muscle and chest hair, so close he could reach over and touch him, brush his fingers down, down …
And Archie was bending close to his neck, so close he could feel his beard tickling his skin. He inhaled slowly and Maxie let out the breath he'd been holding, feeling it hitching in his throat.
"New shampoo?" Archie whispered. Maxie didn't say anything, not trusting his voice not to break.
"Smells good."
Maxie's face was blank, his eyes like closed doors. But he knew the pulse in his neck was jumping madly, knew his chest was quivering, knew if Archie put one of those big hands to the front of his t-shirt, he'd feel the almost painful banging of his heart against his palm.
"Thank you," he said finally and his voice was still calm, almost bored. "Unfortunately I cannot say the same for you."
Archie laughed and straightened up. His eyes looked him over, down than back up again. His smile took on an even cockier flavor then usual, lingering at the flush creeping down the man's neck, the two hard points at the front of his t-shirt. Maxie didn't dare look down to see if he was in a similar state.
Then something in those stormy eyes of his had flashed, like he'd realized something, something obvious that he'd missed and he was reaching for him, taking his chin in his hand, forcing it upwards.
"What's that yer got there," he said, not a question, a demand. A calloused finger brushed over his cut lip. Maxie smiled wider, until his eyes went flinty and sharp.
"Cut myself shaving," he said and then laughed at Archie's reaction, how he jabbed his head forward threateningly.
"Don't get too angry now," he said in a droll monotone. "If it looks like we're fighting, we might get recognized."
Archie let out a rough exhale of breath, fingers pushing into his chin hard enough to bruise.
"Y'know," he said, lips pulling back over his teeth in a snarl. "A real man would own up to what he did. He wouldn't try to hide it."
"Really?" Maxie replied, raising his eyebrows. "What am I supposed to be owning up to?"
"I shoulda expected you wouldn't tell me shit, just tried to cover yer scrawny ass as usual … "
So he was onto his new tactic. Get him angry so he'd spill out the truth in a rage. Wasn't going to work. None of it was going to work.
"You wound me," he said cooly. Archie tipped his chin up again, tracing the scar, with just enough pressure to make it hurt.
"I did didn't I?" he said. "I'm surprised. I thought the great Maxie woulda remembered … "
Of course he'd remembered, he couldn't forget, no matter how hard he tried …
"I wish I was there," Archie said, almost purred. "Wish I'd seen the blood on yer face, blood that I put there."
Maxie blinked slowly, like he was so bored he was about to fall asleep right there on the spot.
"Honestly," he said. "I cannot make head or tails of the nonsense you're spouting. I received this cut in a wild pokémon battle on the way over here."
The other man's face creased up and he knew that meant he was starting to lose his temper.
"Is that right?"
Maxie eyes lit with gleeful malice. Archie's throat worked and his lids went hooded, the tip of his tongue slipping out to wet his salt-cracked lips.
"Yes, that's correct," he continued. "Hit by a rock, straight to the mouth."
"Where were you," Archie shot out gruffly. Maxie thought quickly, his mind clicking over.
"Near that desert," he said. "The one you used to so despise, if you remember ... "
The Aqua Leader looked like he was going to say something, but then forced his lips into one thin line. For a moment, his eyes fogged over. His hand dropped from his chin and the black finger-shaped bruises shone up vividly. He lifted his tanned face to let it bask in the sun, his ice-cream float forgotten and starting to melt.
"So yer got inna fight in the desert yesterday," he said, voice flat, almost defeated. Maxie grinned.
"Yes, that's it," he said.
A smile twitched at Archie's lips and his eyes shone almost frighteningly bright.
"Oh," he said. "Y'know that's funny, cause … "
He reached over and took his chin again. He tilted his face to the side and Maxie's grin grew fixed, feeling his stomach lurch.
"Cause the rest of yer face's smooth," he said. "Not another scratch to be found, which y'know … it's interestin' cause normally when yer in a sandstorm, you get more then one damned cut on yer face."
He said nothing and Archie squeezed at the fresh bruises, the sting making his jaw ache.
"Oh and it was yesterday y'say? Funny, cause this cut don't look too fresh to me … looks like it's hadda few days to heal. Maybe about a week?"
Maxie felt another shiver wrack through him when the man's fingers slipped down to take his shirt collar.
"You were at the raid," he said, eyes glinting. "Weren't ya?"
When he didn't answer, Archie's face darkened like thunder.
"Say it," he said in a rough growl.
He wondered if he could hear his heart pumping, because the sound was almost deafening in his ears. Quickly, he reached up to rub at his glasses, fogged over with moisture.
"I think you've misunderstood me," he said, aware of how tight and hoarse his voice had become. "I said I was in the desert, not that I travelled through it. I got caught briefly at the top and afterwards, the cut was bleeding quite profusely … so I flew into Slateport straight away … "
Archie shot out air through his teeth. He let go of his collar and pressed at his temples, like he was getting a headache.
"And I found a place at the market that was selling salves," he said, going back to his ice-cream float as though Archie wasn't even worth his attention. "It seems to be doing quite well as you've noticed … "
"You … you … " Archie looked like he wanted to break his neck. "Think ya can just wriggle yer way out of anythin', little fuckin' weasel … "
Maxie made his face as condescending as possible, even though his lungs were constricted and his skin was still burning pink. He had him now. There was no way he could win.
"Do you have any more empty accusations to sling around, Archie?" he said. "You've wasted so much of my time already."
Archie's muscles clenched and unclenched, a vein in his neck throbbing. Then he rubbed his hand over his beard again, his eyes shining almost savagely bright. He abruptly got to his feet, sand stuck to his sturdy legs.
"If I find out you've been feedin' me bullshit," he said. "It won't end well for ya."
"I'm shaking," the Magma Leader said derisively, still focused on his ice-cream. The bigger man snorted.
"Yeah," he said, sending him a vicious smirk. "I noticed."
Maxie looked up, mouth opening and shutting, before he snapped it shut. Looking very self-satisfied, the Aqua Leader started striding off, leaving the smaller man behind. He looked down at his empty glass and pretended to be enamoured in the fine textured detailing. Without thinking, he put the glass under his shirt, glancing back at the Seashore House to make sure no-one saw him. He saw Archie walking up from the beach and looking around, before taking his towel off his shoulders. He covered his own glass with it, striding off before someone could run out and demand he give it back.
They used to make a game of it. Who could get the most potions from the Pokémart before the guy behind the counter ran them off, who could could hide the most packets of food down the front of their shirts around the various markets …
He shook his head violently, getting to his feet and brushing away the sand.
He tried not to get too annoyed at the way Archie had got him at the end with that damned comment of his. Maxie had won overall. But then … had it been much of a victory? Sure, it had been satisfying getting around the other man's attempts at interrogation, but ... had that just been a distraction? Maxie hadn't spilt the berries, but wasn't it obvious that he was in on Team Aqua's plans regardless?
Great. Now with the element of surprise lost, trying to find out what they were up to was going to be ten times more difficult. How long could he get away with staying here anyway?
Nearly kicking the sand with frustration, he started marching for the main street. This whole operation had been a major bust, a major waste of time.
But still …
He remembered him, leaning close to smell his hair … remembered his hand on his chin … how being that close to him … being touched by him. He hadn't been touched in so long …
"No," he hissed under his breath. "Stop."
He strode to the nearest rest-stop, breath still short, skin prickling with heat. He didn't look at the attendant behind the counter, just got the keys to his room and marched away again.
As soon as he'd entered the room and locked the door behind him, he smacked his head against the wall. The defenses came down at last and he exhaled harshly. His eyes fell shut, feeling his mind travel back through his memories …
They'd been walking back from their trip to the Weather Institute, a rare location they'd both wanted to go to, unlike the constant arguments over sailing and mountain-hiking.
Caught in a sudden downpour of rain. Too far away from any of the towns. The inky sky darkening from evening to night, the stars shining through the rain clouds like thousands of Sableye crystals above their heads. Wading through the impossibly high grasses, passing the river, alive with raindrops, the roar of the nearby waterfall echoing through the hot, humid air.
Just as the first crack of lightning licked the sky, they'd found a hidden mass of low hanging vines that made up a secret base. Inside their makeshift shelter, the branches crisscrossed thickly above them in such a way, it kept them drier than they could've ever hoped for.
The thunder crashed and out of their backpacks, they rolled out mats and rugs they'd bought or stolen for these kind of nights. Maxie had been shivering. Despite the mugginess typical of the tropics, the rain still gave a chill.
There were a bunch of mossy rocks that he'd hid behind to get changed into his pajamas, although they'd barely given him much privacy. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other man watching, his face soft and half-obscured in darkness.
Lying down across the ground, surrounded by dripping vines and leaves swollen with water, the smell of mud and ferns heavy in the air. The rain pouring down, punctuated by claps of thunder and lightning. Maxie sniffling, his skin prickling with goosebumps, feeling the cold right down to his bones. Archie's bare chest, beaded with perspiration, how he kept on reaching up to wipe his forehead with his hand, sweat running down his face and into the hollow of his collarbone.
How they'd looked at each other, those blue eyes searching his face, the tip of his tongue wetting his lips. How all the years of traveling and exploring the land and sea together, with this strange thing building and rising up between them … how it seemed to be reaching breaking point … reaching to the point where they couldn't turn back.
And then the bigger man's arm moved over him … how it felt so different than all the other times they'd huddled together to keep warm. Archie's chest, burning like a furnace, sending molten heat through his body. Maxie feeling like the coldest part of the ocean and how that seemed to make Archie want to draw him in closer. One cooling down, the other warming up.
Archie's stubble had scraped when he pushed his face into his neck, burying his big hand into his red hair and breathing him in. His eyelashes tickled the tender area of his throat and Maxie pressed his forehead into his sun-browned shoulder in return, lips brushing against the slick skin. Breath sweet and damp. Close, so close …
He trailed fingertips down to the bigger man's stomach and felt his muscles quivering, both of them trembling uncontrollably against each other. Hesitating for all of a moment, he slid his palm to the front of Archie's boxers, feeling him hot and pulsing through the slippery fabric. That low rumble against his neck, vibrating the skin. His big hand, cautious against his hip-bone, slipping under the cotton of his sweatshirt. How he traced patterns against his cold skin, so slow and gentle.
Maxie's breath had been hitching in his throat. He'd pressed closer to him, pressed his body against his broad chest, pressed against the growing hardness underneath his fingers. Hid his face in his shoulder and clutched at his bicep, nose flooded with the scent that was growing more thick by the second with arousal. Rubbed him through his boxers until he started to gasp and roll his hips into his touch.
His sweatshirt rode up, his paper-white skin exposed, too cold, too cold …
Archie stroked his hand over his spine, counting each ridge and heating the skin, sweeping over to repeat the motion across his rib-cage. Tweaked one nipple between his fingers until it pebbled blood red and pointed. Sighed when the smaller man put his skinny leg over his hip, both so wrapped up together now, the wet-spot at the front of Maxie's sweatpants pushing up and down Archie's tree-trunk thigh.
It happened in slow, fluid movements. Sweatshirt up over his head, a big arm encircling him to keep away the rain's chill. Maxie slipping his fingers into his boxers to touch the hot flesh and coarse hair, the moan he got, how Archie's lips had touched each of the freckles that spattered the man's bony shoulders. Edging the waistband of his pants down, down …
Archie's cock was so big and heavy. It twitched in his hand when Maxie's own erection bobbed against his pale stomach. He reached down to stroke it as gently as he could with his rough-skinned hands, making a soft sound in his throat at the way Maxie shivered all the way through his body. Their foreheads pressed together, the smaller man gasping as drops of clear liquid oozed out from the red tip of his cock.
His deep blue eyes had been so tender through the leafy darkness. Maxie looked away, biting into his lower lip. He took both their cocks and started to stroke them in tandem and Archie enclosed his palm over the top of his thin hand, helping him with the grasping, tugging movements.
The slippery feeling of their shafts sliding against each other made them both moan, grunt, cling onto each other for support. Their damp hands pumped faster, more desperate, the wet sounds mixing up with the relentless roar of rainfall.
It was the kiss that undid them. The smaller man smashed their lips together, tongues sliding messily into each other's mouths. A sloppy and panting, lust fueled collision, their sweaty chests heaving together. Maxie's stomach tightened almost painfully and Archie's muscles all went loose like water. He didn't know who was first, the come spurting into their hands, hot liquid dripping down their thighs and combining across their lower bellies. Archie's face was so slack and open, his eyes clouded over with pleasure, Maxie eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. He stroked his black hair and they kissed and kissed, Archie's hands sliding over the curve of his spine. They just laid there, gasping for breath, like they could cradle each other within their lungs forever.
Later, so much later into that strange clammy night, he heard his voice whispering I love you, when he thought Maxie had fallen asleep. How they'd both slipped into a deep slumber, still entwined in each other, the storm raging on around them.
And now, so many, many years later in the room in Slateport, Maxie sat on the ground with tears streaming down his face, so much older now, so old and tired. Wishing with every ounce of his strength and his heart and his soul, that it hadn't all gone so horribly wrong.