Huh. This came out surprisingly easy...so, I assumed you Palletshipper's would want something from me by now, so how about a little drabble, eh? :D
Warning: Oh, you know, the usual. Boys liking other boys. Boys kissing other boys. :giggle:
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemanz, dammit.
Inspired by: A wonderful song called Itoshii Hito (My Love) by Miyavi. Yeah, it's cheesy, I know, but I kinda wanted to write something spring-y. And this song just kinda... made me do it. Yes, I procrastinate--A LOT.
NO IT'S NOT A SONG FIC.
Spring Spice
It was a calm breeze billowing in the leaves that had Ash looking up in the direction of the one walking silently next to him. Coincidentally, it also happened to be that same breeze that had a lustful cinnamon scent wafting to him, his body melting and eyes fluttering at the sweet, sweet smell of the other's cologne. He had no idea why he wanted to, but suddenly he had a craving to sidle closer to that wafting scent, to get more of that delicious aroma. Like perfume, only more masculine in the way it stung your nose.
His gaze shifted back to where it was supposed to be, on the secluded path they were currently walking. His bangs got in his sight messily, causing him to brush them back into the crevice of his ear slightly to get them out of the way. Growing his hair out hadn't been something he had planned on, but he certainly couldn't change that now. He had other motives to attend to other than getting his hair cut, of course he didn't have time to do it, and that was why he needed to keep it long.
I like it this way… it makes your face look more mature.
Ash ignored his own mind.
Leaves brushed past their shoes on the dirt trail, some from being kicked, and others from that sedating wind ruffling nature's hair. Ash had to forcefully keep his eyes trained on the dirt and rocks below them, trying not to be too obvious where his sight was lingering a bit too much these days. It shouldn't be that hard—he'd been having problems with his balance anyway, he needed to concentrate on his walking apparently, because he obviously had no coordination skills today. From falling down the stairs almost, all the way down to tripping over his own feet, Ash had seen almost every which way that was possible to trip over. The circumstances of the day had no effect on that either, it was just that he hadn't gotten any sleep.
Even so, he couldn't help himself from tripping over a fallen tree when one was in their path. His shoelace got caught on one of the branches, causing him to fall, yet again, into strong arms almost deceitfully ready to catch him, as if they already knew he was going to screw up, knew that he needed this support. But he retaliated by swinging his arms rapidly as his voice got muffled in a cinnamon scented, cotton shirt, causing the other to let go of him to he fell to the ground.
Face planted in the grimy soil, he grimaced and then full out glared and cursed when he heard a snort from above him. Had he been any other person on any other day, he would have said something repulsively loud at the reaction, but instead slowly picked himself off the ground, rubbing his nose a few times before stubbornly walking off onto the path they were following.
He still had no idea where they were going.
So… do you wanna go for a walk?
No.
…just us?
Okay—why not…
Ash bit his lower lip and kept his eyes trained on the ground, watching as his left foot would disappear, only to be replaced by his right, and so on and so forth as he kept his brisk pace. Before they had just been going at a slow, relaxed walk, but now he didn't want to have to live with these apprehensive feelings anymore—he just wanted to get this over with. He wanted to know where they were going.
It was a windy day. Spring, but windy and warm, late in the final days of flowers and newly brazen leaves. The air even tasted sweet with the new flowers' blossoming, the entire area becoming more enriched with the last of everything coming to life out in the open. The leaves shook themselves out from their resting places, coming to full bloom much like the flowers, but unlike them, they would remain through the hot days of summer all the way through the season, wherein the flowers would fall to become tasteful fruit to be picked by the many harvesters of the earth. The foliage would soon turn their darkest shade of green, the sun going from light to blaring in the days to come. Not something Ash wanted entirely—he enjoyed the spring air a little too much, almost to the point of longing for the season to never end and for the others to hurry up and be done with so spring could come all that sooner.
I won't be coming back next spring, Ash.
His brows furrowed, eyes stinging because of the pollen being whipped into his eyes from the strong wind. Only allergies, he knows that. Believes that.
I don't know when I'll be back.
Because of his quick pace he'd forgotten the other must not have been able to keep up while walking. The sound of shoes pounding on the ground alerted him. He looked up, head twisted over his shoulder to see.
He apologizes are soon as the other catches up, jerking his head almost painfully to the forefront again, this time looking at the trees ahead of him.
Just before he's about to stuff his hands in his pockets a warm grip grabs hold of his wrist. He tugs once reflexively, still not facing toward the other, confused but mostly just being stubborn. What?
Can we talk?
No.
I have something I need to get off my chest.
…Sure.
He isn't sure about the almost angry hold on his arm—but then again he also isn't so sure of the thumb swirling calming circles on his skin, making him sigh in a way he never thought possible. He catches himself before it become audible, eyes churning with expressive confusion, bottom lip sucked once again between his teeth and brows pulled together. He mutters something, not so in-character of himself, always being one to fully articulate himself through words, not always the same actions like the ones being pulled on him right now like some nasty trick.
I…
No.
I think I…
Ash turned then, face steeled to one of his hardest. Then, he reached his right hand back, curled it into a tight fist. The wind still billowed around them in a melodious swirl; leaves left over from the fall, crisp and clean, brushing up against them again.
That cinnamon scent floated to him, his eyes dilated—resolve. It suddenly didn't matter where they were going anymore.
Both his hands cupped tanned skin of the other's face to bring their heads together. He swayed his head back and forth, as if saying no, but he isn't, and the other knew that.
I think I…
Ash brushed his lips against Gary's.
I think I do too.
Was it too cheesy...? I think so. Still, love to hear people... uh, talk about my lameness :D