"Another day," smiling to himself, the gym leader of Ecruteak City exited the gym for the evening and turned to lock up the doors, being that he was the last one to go. The gym's trainers had all left an hour ago, but Morty had stayed behind and taken a walk through his gym, admiring the beautiful yet haunting atmosphere that the special effects had created. All of it was his design, on which he prided himself. People remembered his gym right down to the last detail and they often talked of the trainers with the crowns of candles on their head. Such beautiful uniqueness, he loved it to a point where he sometimes didn't want to leave, but now it was time for dinner.

He walked home alone, as he often did, pulling his purple scarf with its tattered, red splattered tip a bit tighter around his long neck. The night was a bit nippy with the scent of autumn leaves floating on the breeze, which was oddly strong. At this hour, no one was around—Morty always left the gym and went home for his dinner at a time when most were preparing to settle into bed. This suited him, walking alone in the dark, most especially on nights such as this one. The wind was whistling through the trees and ruffling his short blonde hair playfully. In order to keep his ears warm, he pulled his dark purple headband down a bit more to cover the tips.

The rest of him, clad in a dark purple sweater and crisp white trousers, stayed fairly warm as he strolled along with his hands tucked into his pockets and his shoulders raised. A sudden chill down his spine did not bother him at all. In fact, it made him smile, and the expression widened as his shadow shifted to reveal two dark purple ears.

"Gengar," the young gym leader spoke softly.

"Gengar," a sort of menacing voice repeated. But its owner was actually a very docile creature with a perpetual smile spread across his face beneath his blood red eyes.

"Gengar," a second, similar voice repeated, and before he knew it, Morty had two of the creatures attached to either of his legs.

"I can't walk like this!" His eyes shined with pure affection for the two Pokemon, even though they did hinder his progress home. Stomach growling or not, he would always stop whatever he was doing to show them love. Thus, he knelt and his hands settled on both heads to rub them affectionately.

Grinning widely, both playful creatures held on tightly to their master with their eyes squeezed shut. Most found the final evolution of the Gastly line to be scary, but Morty never could. If he would ever use the word "cute" to describe anything, it would be his Gengars. Telling them apart might have also seemed impossible, but he always knew which one was which. One was slightly taller than the other—he was the eldest. The smaller Gengar was actually still growing and had only evolved recently. Both made him proud. They were his children, his babies. All of his Pokemon were.

"Let's get you both home," at length, he spoke softly to the two of them.

Home was actually a rather empty place, or so it would be without his Pokemon, that is. His house was small and without electricity, but he never thought to complain on it, feeling that he had all that was needed.

As soon as he stepped inside, he turned to his left and lit a candle that rested in the taper holder on a small table against the wall. The dim light illuminated a room that was pretty much bare of all things save for a worn couch of dark blue, an old yet comfortable rug, and a low rectangular table with cushions gathered around it. In the far off corner, illuminated by the candle as he approached, he had two beanbags chairs next to a shelf covered in scrolls and housing a single pot of ink and a jar of clean brushes. There was another table here as well, which was home to an oil lamp, which Morty lit to add more light. Now everything was fairly visible, though even the walls held very little to look at in the way of any decoration. A katana was mounted over the couch, and against the wall just before the door to his bedroom, there was a scroll depicting a young man in a kimono with an outstretched hand held to a Gastly. That was his only true luxury, which had been painted after a description from his memory. Photographs of him didn't exist. His mother had made sure of that.

Morty's bedroom was just as barren as his living room, more so, in fact. All that there was to see in there was his futon, a full length mirror, and a closet. He didn't spend much time in there, and so the lack of things did not bother him. There wasn't even a need to decorate. As for the rest of his house, he had an equally bare bathroom with an old clawfoot tub, and then there was the kitchen, which is where he headed with his candle. Another oil lamp rested on a square table against the far wall, and so he lit this first, followed by another on the counter near the sink. His stove was a huge, old fashioned thing that burned wood that he chucked in by the armful. The refrigerator was more so a chest that kept things cold by means of a giant block of ice delivered to him once a week.

The dark ages— that's what his friends would say he lived in, but he didn't care. He was happy to be on his own in his supposedly creepy house. He didn't even need the oil lamps, not really. Once they all realized he was home, dozens of the purple, orb like Gastly began flying around the place, their natural light brightening up the place better than any artificial light could.

"It's good to be home," the blonde smiled as he watched them float about and play together.

Seeing as how he didn't really need it, Morty didn't mind it at all when his Gengars made off with his scarf and wrapped themselves together in it. It was warm, which was something that they actually liked. Smiling at them, the Ecruteakian gym leader began to stir a large, cast iron pot that he had left on the stove with a long wooden spoon. The scent of his stew filled the air, which made his stomach growl again.

"What a long day today, especially since I forgot about lunch," he sighed a bit, knowing that it happened often. He was usually too busy with challenges or dealing with the day to day of running the gym. The trainers under him still needed mentoring, and there were always new ones coming along, hoping for a spot in his gym. Yes, he was entirely busy, but he loved it, as exhausting as it all was.

As he continued to stir, he felt a breeze and then a Haunter appeared, holding out a bowl to him. "Oh thank you, Haunter," he smiled as he took it. That bowl was not for the Pokemon, of course. This was just something that the creatures in Morty's house did- they took care of their master and helped him. There was his Mismagius now with a spoon on his head. "And you, Mismagius," the gym leader smiled to the catlike, creature.

Now ravenous, the tall young man served himself a bowl of the stew he had made and then sat down to eat, while his Pokemon helped themselves to the berries that were always easily accessible to them in tins around the kitchen. None of them ever over ate. They liked to eat when he did, like a real family.

To some, this life may have been depressing—a young man of 21 living alone in the dark with a bunch of ghosts. He did love his life and the sense of stability that it held. Every now and then, however, he would find himself longing for something more. Tonight was one of those nights. Smile, though he did, he couldn't help but feel that something was missing. He was reflecting on this when suddenly, he heard his front door open with a loud slam and felt a rush of air as the wind invited itself in along with the unannounced guest.

"Could it be?" Pushing himself from the table, Morty ran to his living room and fought back the urge to squeal at the sight before him.

"Morty!" Arms clad in a purple suit and draped by a white cape were held out to him. Morty's eyes widened with surprise as he reached out for the white gloved hands and was pulled into a brotherly embrace by this man.

"Eusine," his voice held joy and something very close to gratitude. It would not be uncharacteristic of him to be grateful for this visit. It so rarely happened, though he often lay in bed longing for it.

Morty had been nothing more than a thirteen year old runaway with no place to go when he had first met this man. Eusine, who had actually been the gym leader at the time, had taken Morty in and had helped him to deal with a very unruly little Gastly, the same that was depicted on the scroll and the one who had grown to be the tallest of the Gengars snuggled within that scarf.

Speaking of those Pokemon, all of them had gone quiet and now they were staring at who they referred to amongst themselves as "Minaki-sama". For the briefest of times, the eldest Gengar had even been one of Minaki-sama's Pokemon after the two trainers had accidentally mixed up their Pokeballs. Eusine had deemed himself too busy to return Morty's then Haunter to him. Since then, the Gengar had refused Pokeballs, which didn't bother Morty at all. He loved it when his Pokemon were free to play, which they should have been. Why were they so quiet?

"What's wrong, Mismagius?" The little cat-witch was now beginning to act clingy, hovering very close to Morty. He was never like that.

"Ah, there's nothing wrong with that Mismagius!" Waving his hand, Eusine went over to Morty's couch and flopped down, crossing his legs as he slumped. "Shut that door. The wind is going crazy out there."

"Oh yea," Morty beamed at Eusine as he pushed it closed. "I was going to say 'Look what the wind blew in'. I guess I was too stunned to see you."

"Well it's a good thing you didn't," Eusine smirked.

"Hm, yea," Morty laughed a little bit, though he felt slightly hurt. He thought the little pun was funny. Maybe it wasn't? Eusine was by far the worldlier of the two. Thus, he was an authority on things like this in the gym leader's mind. "I was just eating."

A pair of baby blue eyes, with their true color hidden behind purple contact lenses, searched Eusine's handsome face as if desperately seeking approval for this action.

"Go on," the other man waved his gloved hand, and only then did Morty move towards the kitchen.

Once in there, however, he did not retrieve his food right away. Instead, he leaned against a wall hidden away from the entrance and sighed. Eusine was finally back! But why were his Pokemon acting so weird? The two Gengars had been snuggled together in the scarf, singing their name with each other, but now they were silent. The Gastly were still floating around, but they had stopped their giggling in favor of either staring or avoiding that room entirely. Haunter was at the kitchen table now, picking up Morty's bowl, which he held out towards his master as if to say "eat". Nodding, Morty took it and scooped a spoonful into his mouth, not really tasting what he was eating. Instead of paying attention to it, he watched as Mismagius landed on the table and stood there staring as if asking what to do. Why was he being clingy?

Eating fast, Morty finished the stew in record time and started for the sink, only to feel a tug on his pants leg. "Hm?" Looking down, he saw a little bipedal Pokemon with huge gems for eyes. Smiling, he picked up that Sableye and carried him along towards the sink, where he deposited the bowl. Then he returned to the living room and put down the now squirming Pokemon.

"Everyone is acting so weird tonight," Morty sighed as he sat next to his best friend, who had shut his eyes.

"Maybe they forgot who I am," Eusine shrugged. "It has been a year."

"Yea, a whole year, Eusine," Morty sighed. "I was beginning to think you forgot me."

He hadn't meant to be so open with his feelings. The words had just come tumbling out like junk from an over filled closet. Really, was it bad to miss a friend that he hadn't heard from in so long? Perhaps so, considering the fact that he did know the nature of Eusine's absences—Suicune.

"Morty, I was so close this time. Suicune was right there," holding out his hand, the eccentric man squeezed it into a fist and then opened it again before running it over his slicked brown hair.

This close, Morty couldn't help but admire how handsome his old friend was. He was always so sharply dressed in his purple suit and red bow tie. Really, he looked as though he should be giving a performance—perhaps a magic trick or two— anything but rolling around in Suicune waste or trekking through forests in search of the legendary dog Pokemon. But this is what Eusine did, anyway. He was an expert on it. It, not he or she—legendaries didn't have a gender. Eusine had taught Morty that.

Wasn't it enough that he had seen Suicune once? Morty wanted to ask, even though he knew the answer to that. No, a sighting was never enough. His best friend wanted to capture and own the legendary Pokemon, such was his obsession. He had always been possessive.

"I have faith in you, Eusine. Someday, you will find Suicune," the blonde smiled.

The room fell silent as Eusine's harsh green eyes seemed to glare into Morty's soul. Only when the other smiled did the gym leader release a breath that he hadn't even realized he had been holding.

"You've always been my biggest supporter, even when others say I'm crazy."

"Well, I'm always here for you, Eusine. Waiting. You know that."

"Yea, I do," Eusine's tone was dark, sending a chill up Morty's spine as he was once again stared at. Shifting his body, he started to cross his legs, but the action was caught off as suddenly Eusine's lips were on his.

"Hnnf," Morty made an awkward noise as he was pushed backwards by his best friend's body covering his own. By this he was neither bewildered nor confused. In fact, he had been wondering when it was going to happen. With that said, there is really very little need to mention that it always did.

His heart raced and his flesh filled with goosebumps as it was exposed to the cool air of the house, his sweater being lifted by Eusine's roaming hands. There was now a warm tongue in his mouth, thrashing and flailing. Whenever Morty's tongue got in the way, it was roughly shoved aside. Rarely was he allowed to put his tongue into Eusine's mouth.

And speaking of that mouth, it withdrew from his as Eusine's head lowered. Closing his eyes, the recipient of this treatment moaned as a warm tongue swept over his nipples and a straying hand settled between his legs, rubbing at the beginnings of a hard on and encouraging it to grow.

"Eusine, why?" the blonde squirmed under this treatment. Part of him wanted it to stop, but his body had needs that were now being fulfilled. Thus, a larger part of him refused to fight back.

The other man slid up the gym leader's body and bit his earlobe before whispering harshly, "Shut up, fag. You know you want it."

Oh god, he did, and it made him feel so dirty. Under Eusine's touch, he grew hard fast and started to move his lower half in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure within his blood engorged dick. The seme felt that his uke had been properly put into his place, and so he returned to licking his nipples for a short while longer, drawing from him long, low moans and tiny little squeaks of pleasure. Foreplay was never something that Eusine was big on. Thus, it was rather soon when he slid to the floor and pulled Morty down with him.

"I'm going to fuck you so good," he breathed heavily as he fumbled to undo Morty's pants. "Get ready, you fag. I've got a year of frustration to take out on this tight little ass."

Closing his eyes as he lay on his back, Morty began thinking of excuses to avoid going to the gym. Experienced though he was with this, it had been a year since the last time he had been penetrated. Only for Eusine- that is what he had always said. But unfortunately, that sometimes meant that he ended up sore, as so long would go by without him being touched.

He was a bit nervous because he knew how Eusine loved to rough him up. There was no such thing as making love between them. No, Morty got fucked, plain and simple. Tonight was no different. His so called best friend didn't even bother with removing anything but Morty's shoes and pants. So frantic was he to begin that in his own case, he had simply undone his pants and pulled his dick out. Still, his bottom knew that it would get hot and so he made the effort to at least undo the other man's blazer, tie, and shirt.

His fingers were still clinging to Eusine's shirt when his leg was forced into a raised position and he was roughly entered with no preparation or lubrication of any kind. This was something else that he expected, and he gritted his teeth to bear with it. His lover didn't even ask how it felt. Nor did he give him time to adjust to having a dick in him after so long. Instead, he began thrusting, his face flushing as he moved closer to bite Morty's shoulder.

"Ungh, Eusine, easy please," he whimpered. "It's hurting me."

"Don't start your crying, Morty," the green eyed man snapped at him. "This isn't your first time. It won't be your last."

It wouldn't. He knew it wouldn't be, and had known since the night it had begun, eight or so years ago. His pleasure was slight now, so that he was not too distracted to remember how it had all gone- how Eusine had pinned him down with his wrists above his head and forced his way inside of a virginal hole that had never been, to his knowledge, meant for this use. He had been so innocent then, not even knowing where babies came from. In that innocence, he had readily agreed when Eusine had asked, "Do you want want to do something that feels good together?"

He had struggled and cried, "I wanna stop, I wanna stop!" But Eusine hadn't. Now that he was older, he wondered if that could have counted as rape. Maybe it did. He had certainly felt the humiliation and the fear afterwards. To this day, he sometimes had nightmares about it, but he sucked it up, telling himself he did it for his best friend. Besides, after so many times, he had started to want it. Rape victims don't want to be raped, right?

That question would go unanswered as the burning of what was occurring now became overridden by the pleasure. He didn't know the proper term for it, but Morty knew that there was something inside of him that felt like heaven when his best friend's dick rubbed against it. That was happening now and it drove him crazy, making him curl his toes and make noises like the girls that had been in those dirty movies he and Eusine had once discovered and watched together.

"Nngh, you're such a fag," Eusine moaned against him. Then, with a sudden growl, he pushed Morty on to his back and lifted both legs, roughly reentering him as their faces touched. "Say it, Morty. Tell me how you're a fag and how you like it when I fuck you."

Humliation. Why did Eusine like making him say such things? Even before he could open his mouth, a gloved hand slapped his face with an audible whack.

"Say it!"

Morty felt the hot sting of tears as he recited the words that were demanded of him, "I'm a fag and I like it when you fuck me."

"Oh, Morty," Eusine moaned as he began to thrust harder. And here Morty had thought it impossible for his asshole to be any more abused than it had been before. "Oh Morty, I love you."

"I love you too, Eusine," he whispered back, afraid to let Eusine hear that he was crying. He wouldn't notice, anyway. He never did.

"Oh Morty, I'm gonna," Eusine grunted. "I shouldn't come in you. Might get you pregnant because you're such a fucking girl."

How humiliating. Someone who loved you shouldn't say such things, should they? Morty knew the answer deep down, but he hid himself from it. Don't think of any of it, he told himself. Just focus on the pleasure. Oh god, it did feel good. His balls were tightening and he could feel his insides clamping tight as if it didn't want to let Eusine's dick go.

"Ahn, Eusine," he started to scream. "Fuck me. Fuck me, please!"

"Yeaa, I knew you liked it, fag," the man chuckled through his moans.

"Aahn, I'm coming… coming for you, EUSINE!" Digging his fingers into Eusine's shoulders, Morty screamed in both pleasure and pain as his dick shot off like a cork from a bottle of champagne that had been shaken. Semen coated his stomach and he gasped at the feeling of his insides growing suddenly warm and wet.

"Nnngh, Suicune," Eusine grunted as he lazily thrust into Morty a few more times. Then he collapsed, immediately shutting his eyes and starting to fall asleep while still on the gym leader.

"Suicune… at least you called me something you associate with love," Morty sighed.

"Shut up, Morty," the man on top grumbled.

Closing his own eyes, Morty ran his hands through his hair as he felt the tears run along the sides of his head. Now he knew why his Mismagius had gotten clingy and why the others had gone quiet or avoidant. It was Eusine. They didn't want him here. They hated what he did to their master. They hated what he let him do.

It wasn't the sex, heavens no. They all left the room for that, not really wanting to see, but they did think of it as a natural thing, though pointless. The Gastly were all too little to really get it, so whenever Eusine would visit, they would spend weeks afterward "looking for Matsuba-sama's egg". The Gengars, the Haunter, the Sableye, the hiding Drifblim and Dusknoir, and of course his Mismagius… they knew. It wasn't the sex, no. It was the tears that their master would always cry afterwards.

How he wanted their comfort now, but he was not free to move away from Eusine. His own weak will held him prisoner on the cold floor of his own house. It was not right. It was not ok. But it was his life. It was another day.