Title: Fifteen Minutes of Fame

Fandom: Pokemon

Pairing: Gary/Ash (?)

Genre: Smut? Does masturbation have its on genre? xD Maybe a little angst.

Rating: NC-17

Words: 905

Warnings: Masturbation, weird present tense style

Sequel: Thrill

Author Notes: Oh loooords. I can't believe I wrote this. Mostly because of the fact that we're talking Gary from pokemon. Okay, this is like a prequel thing to Thrill (I guess), so you're welcome to read that after! :DDD

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Fifteen Minutes of Fame

"Haa…"

It's Friday night. The sky outside is clear and black, speckled with thousands of glimmering stars all reflecting the hopes and dreams of the millions of people wandering around below them. The wind is harsh, and hard, and it's rattling the window – slamming up against it again and again in a rhythm Gary is more than familiar with.

"Haa… ha…"

It is eight seventeen, and he's all alone. His mother had said something about going to a party, or a concert, or the grocery store, but he hadn't been listening since he is still a teenager. But whatever she'd said, she isn't here now, hasn't been here for over four hours, and so Gary is alone - completely alone.

There is a clock sitting above the bed in his mother's room, and even though Gary's room is down the hallway and to the left, even though his door's shut - even though the wind is pounding and pounding against his windowpane, he can still hear the 'tick tock', 'tick tock', it's that quiet.

"Nghh…"

He's locked himself in his room. He's switched off all the lights, pulled the blinds over the window, and turned on his TV. He doesn't know what channel it's tuned to – he'd been surfing and came to this station by chance – and he doesn't know what exactly is going on since he's pressed the mute button, but that doesn't really matter. His eyes are glued to the screen all the same, his breath is hitching, and his pants are pushed down to his knees.

"Ahh…!"

Determined black eyes flicker across the TV, looking straight into the camera, straight at him, and Gary muffles a moan and slows his hand, because he can already feel himself coming close to the edge and he doesn't want it to be over quite yet. The camera pans out; showing the hundreds of fans seated around the stadium, and Gary slips his free hand up, up, under his shirt, past his belly button, over his ribs, until it reaches a pebbled nipple. Pokemon fill the screen again, and so Gary allows his eyes to slide shut for moment, while his fingertips touch and pull at the sensitive skin.

"Haa…"

His left hand tenses around his cock, and it feels so good, so tight, that he can't hold back his whimper. He can feel his pace increasing again: every up, down, up, down matching the rhythmic 'bang bang's of the wind knocking up against his window. He twists his nipple and growls, the pain blurring passed that thin film into pleasure, making his hips buck up into the tight tunnel of his hand. The hand that Gary is pretending with all his strength belongs to someone else. He loosens his grip, trying to calm down somewhat, but it just feels so good that he can't stop touching. He slips his hand out from under his shirt and brings his fingers to his lips, sliding one, two, three digits into the warm heat of his mouth, sucking, nipping, licking – trying to pretend that they're something else.

He moans quietly around them, running the fingers of his left hand up the pulsing, throbbing vein of his cock. His thumb reaches the blushing head, and he toys at the slit, rubbing and sliding through the pre-cum that has been gathering there. His eyes fly open wide at the sensation – and at the thought that it could be him touching him like that – when suddenly, his face is filling the TV screen. His eyes are sparkling, and his checks are flushed, and he's smiling directly at Gary, with that triumphant, pleased knowing look and he—

"Nghh…! I—Ash…!"

He throws his head back, and thrusts his hips, and his hand is pumping and pumping as his pleasure shoots out, wet and hot, in long ribbons. He wants to look at the TV again, wants to see his face, but instead he's groaning, long and loud and deep, and his back's arched and he's trembling, shaking until it seems like an eternity and it feels like he's just let loose part of his soul - then he is collapsing backwards on his bed, his breath coming out in pants and his left hand still gripping his spent cock.

A few minutes pass, and the wind is still slamming against the window, harder than before. Gary lets out a long sigh and reaches for the dirty shirt at the edge of the bed. But what he ends up doing is rolling onto the remote, and somehow pressing the unmute button.

"—I always believed in my Pokemon! It doesn't matter how strong our opponent is: as long as we work together, we can win any battle!"

"Would you listen to that, such confidence! But can we expect anything less from Ash Ketchum? Ash, can you tell us, is the rumor true? Are you planning to jump the continent again after this?"

"Of course! As long as there's new Pokemon out there to be discovered, my journey will never be over!"

Gary's still staring the TV long after it goes to commercial. He knows there's a crooked smile on his face - because Ash can be such a loser sometimes, saying such cheesy things - but it isn't until the after the wind calms down and he can hear his sobbing breath that he realizes he's crying as well.

fin