Author's Note: Why do songfics and Ignitionshipping go so well together? "Cake By The Ocean" is my current jam. Props to HyperGinger for an offhand prompt that finally got this ball rolling.
"What is that?"
Volkner, carrying a cooler full of drinks, eyed the picnic basket Flint had brought. "What?" Flint said, defensively. "I thought we could use some snacks."
A blond eyebrow raised. Volkner had asked if Flint wanted to "hang out on the beach" for a very specific reason. He even packed the beers. Flint had to know what he meant, but here he was with a goddamn lace-trimmed basket and a blanket draped over his arm like... like they were going to have a little G-rated party. At sunset. On the closed part of the beach by the Vista Lighthouse, where only the gym leader was allowed to trespass.
He rolled his eyes. Well, maybe a snack afterwards was a good idea. And the blanket was definitely smart — he should have thought of it. Sometimes Flint had some common sense under that wild hair. "You and your appetite. Come on."
Flint spread out the blanket and plopped down. "Well, I found something great when I got to town, so I had—"
Volkner was brushing sand off the blanket. "Take off your sandals, dumbass."
"What? Oh." Flint laughed and kicked his sandals off to the side. "Sorry, mom."
"Shut up." Volkner untied his sneakers and pulled off his socks. Then he set the cooler between them and opened it up. "Here."
Flint chuckled, reaching into his picnic basket. "Look, I brought dinner. Sandwiches and chips, and even dessert."
Volkner popped the cap off his bottle and took a long drink. "What are you, on a date?"
"You asked me here! How is it not a date?"
With a heavy sigh, Volkner gazed out at the sea. The setting sun cast vibrant pinks and oranges in the sky, which reflected off the gently rolling waves as sparkling crystals. Anyone would find it beautiful, maybe even romantic to witness in a secluded spot with a partner. But not Volkner. He was pent-up and unable to find anyone lately, so he bit the bullet and called his best friend, and made sure to buy plenty of alcohol.
"Okay, okay," Flint said dramatically. "If you won't appreciate this nice dinner, I'll go find someone else who will." He started to stand up. "We Elites have a lot of fans, you know."
That always got under Volkner's skin, and Flint knew it. Volkner grabbed at a loose-hanging suspender. "Sit the fuck back down."
Flint laughed. "Well, forgive me for trying to class up your booty call."
"Don't call it that!" Volkner scowled and swiped the basket, grabbing a sandwich.
Still snickering, Flint snagged a beer and the bottle opener. "Don't you want to see what I found?"
"Wha?" Volkner asked through a huge mouthful of sandwich.
Flint pulled out a cutesy pastel pink box, the kind pastries come in. "There's a new bakery on the boardwalk, and they do customs." He opened the lid, revealing two large cupcakes heaped with frosting. One had little icing flames of red and orange and a plastic figurine of magmortar, and the other had a fondant plug and cord circling around an electivire.
"Oh my god." Volkner shook his head, but grinned in spite of himself.
"Isn't it great? I'm gonna get you a huge cake from there for your birthday. With raichus."
"You'd better not." Volkner tore into one of the individual-sized bags of chips. "I can't eat that much sugar. There's more icing than cupcake. That's ridiculous."
"That's delicious, you mean." Flint licked the edge of the electivire cupcake.
"Don't get all sugared up and drunk!" Volkner cringed, remembering childhood sugar binges and Flint going absolutely off the wall.
"I do what I want." Flint swiped his thumb across more frosting and licked it off slowly, eyeing his friend the whole time.
Volkner watched that tongue flick along, feeling an involuntary twinge in his pants. And Flint knew it, he knew everything, and as he grinned Volkner chugged the last of his beer so he could open another one.
"Hey, why do you always have to drink when we get together like this?" Flint grabbed the bottle's neck, his hand right above Volkner's.
Volkner yanked it away and popped the cap off with the bottom of his black shirt, since the opener was right next to Flint's ass. "It makes it easier to accept sexual favors from you."
Flint scooted a little closer. "You wouldn't keep asking if you didn't enjoy it, Volk."
"I don't enjoy it. It's weird. I just need the release, and you'll do it without making a big deal, so..." He shifted uncomfortably.
"I'm happy to. You're the one who makes a big deal out of it."
"Am not."
With a low chuckle (which was kind of sexy, damn all this frustration), Flint leaned in and nuzzled Volkner's neck, just below his ear. It sent a shiver down his spine and another jolt around to his crotch. "Are too. You know we make a good pair. Someday you'll get tired of sleeping around and settle down with me."
"You do it too. Can't get enough of your fans riding your dick."
"You would too, if you got in the Elites." Flint nibbled the spot he was nuzzling.
"Fuck you!" Volkner punched his friend's shoulder.
Flint sat back, laughing at his own hilarity. "You'll make it someday. Right after I become Champion." He ran his finger along the yellow frosting of the electivire cupcake. But before he could lick it off, Volkner pulled his hand closer and clamped his lips on that finger, sucking off the icing with more enthusiasm than originally intended.
Grey eyes widened, and while Flint was suppressing a grin, he stayed quiet. Volkner pulled back slowly. "I'll be Champion before you ever will," he said, his voice coming out husky.
"Is that what you think?" Flint set the cupcake down and practically jumped on top, straddling Volkner's hips.
Volkner smirked, flipping the other man onto his back, pinning him down. "Yeah."
His toned arms slid over Volkner's shoulders, pulling him down close. "I like how our rivalry gets you fired up," he murmured, going back to the spot on his neck.
"Sh-shut up." Volkner watched the tipped-over bottle spill its contents into the sand. The imagery was not lost on him, especially as Flint kept doing things near his ear that rapidly weakened his willpower while strengthening something else much more tangible. He wasn't drunk at all, he was having to process the fact that his best friend, with whom he'd spent half his life, was biting his neck and stroking his hair, and was probably right about settling down together because who else was always going to be there for him?
"You're gonna have to switch positions if you want me to continue," Flint said quietly into his ear, giving the lobe a nip.
With a grunt, Volkner rolled onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows. He wasn't drunk, but at least the sun had set, so the advancing darkness made this sordid scene a little more appropriate. His shirt was lifted a little, and lips brushed along his stomach, down to his navel, teasing while working off his belt and jeans. Volkner closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip, breathing heavier. This was his favorite part, honestly — the agonizing buildup right before feeling something wet and warm slide over him...
"Hmm." Flint paused, which he sometimes did to make a comment, at which point Volkner would kick him or just yell so he'd get on with it. He waited, thinking that he'd heard it all by now. What he didn't expect was to feel something unidentifiable on his erection.
His eyes opened. "What do you think you're doing?"
Flint just grinned at him as he added more yellow icing, then licked it off his fingertips. "Making it taste better."
"Don't frost my dick!" Volkner shouted, a little too loudly.
"Too late, bro." He licked slowly along the shaft. "Mmm~"
That set Volkner's nerves ablaze more than usual. He didn't typically watch, because who wanted to watch Flint suck you off, but seeing his tongue lap up that icing with such appetite was supremely hot. "I hate you," he mumbled.
"No you don't." He flicked his tongue over the unfrosted tip. "Do you?"
"Nngh... I'll hate you if you don't stop teasing."
"I wanna hear it." With a little more urgency, he cleaned off all the sugary topping, then held the base while enveloping it in his warm lips. Volkner sucked in a breath, leaning back his head and gripping the blanket below him. Flint was always so good at this, once he stopped being a smartass and got down to business. His tonguework, the way his hand stroked along his thighs, in between them — just like in battle, he was on fire when he could be serious.
"Do that again," he rasped when wandering fingers left his balls. They returned, and even dipped down behind to explore the edge of elsewhere. Volkner bucked his hips with an unexpected groan. "F-fuck... I love it..."
Flint purred as he heard what he wanted. Volkner draped an arm over his face, red from being mortified but also aroused to the max. His awareness of the situation was dwindling, replaced by the need to come thanks to those caressing fingertips and warm mouth. He thrust his slender hips again. Flint acknowledged his need by tightening his lips, pressing his tongue hard against his cock to rub gloriously as his head bobbed. Volkner saw fireworks behind his clenched eyes and felt them in his loins, which had begun moving of their own accord. Not appreciating the thrusting rhythm, Flint pinned his hips down and sucked harder.
Oh god yes! Volkner's mind cried as he struggled, clutching at the blanket and sand they had kicked all over the place. He loved every bit of it, that wet tongue, those rough hands restraining him, making it worse and better at the same time — he came in a burst, moaning wordlessly.
And then the mouth and hands were gone. Volkner panted and kept his eyes covered for a few seconds more, partly because he didn't want to watch whatever Flint did as his lips smacked, and partly because he was still savoring that particularly divine orgasm.
He opened one eye to see Flint diving into what was left of the cupcake. "Seriously?" Volkner asked, deadpan.
"Gets th' taste outta my mouth," Flint said, chewing.
Volkner flopped back down on the blanket, staring up at the twinkling stars. "Nope, I am not drunk enough for tonight."
"You liked it." Flint poked his bare side, causing him to squirm. "You loved it, even. Admit it, I'm the best you've ever had or will have."
"Hmph." Volkner smirked and hiked up his pants, sitting up slowly. The two looked at each other for a second, and Flint offered the last bit of chocolate cake. Volkner ate it from his hand, suckling on Flint's fingertips while fixed on his friend's face to drink in that reaction.
"I get a turn, right?" he nearly begged.
"Yeah." Volkner grinned.
Before lying down, Flint placed a hand on Volkner's neck, drawing him in for a kiss on the lips — a line they hadn't crossed that wasn't involved in some lust-fueled brojob. Though the act startled him, Volkner was even more startled that it felt comfortable and completely natural, lasting for a good moment.
"I meant what I said," Flint murmured when they parted. "About us being a good pair."
Volkner chuckled, embarrassed, and ruffled his wiry red curls. "Someday."
More eager than ever, Flint stretched out on the blanket. "Ready when you are, cupcake."
Volkner gave him a hard stare, regretting what he hadn't yet gotten himself into.