"Another win, huh?" Lyra looked at Silver a bit pensively, recalling her victorious Typhlosion into its Pokeball. He hated to think that it had been he who had issued the battle challenge. "Maybe with a little bit of love, you'd be able to beat me at something, Silver."

Love. There was that word again. That muddled word, its meaning too...varied. Too generic. There were so many better substitutions.

He didn't love his Pokemon. Perhaps he was proud in those shining moments when his enemies' Pokemon would fall fainted before him on the battlefield (especially when it came to that Ethan boy).

He didn't love any of the number of Gym Leaders or Elite Four, much less Lance. Admiration, if it amounted to that.

He definitely didn't love the girl in front of him, carefully applying a potion to one of her injured Pokemon. No, that wasn't love at all. That was...something entirely different.

If only he could find the word to describe the need he had to finally subdue this battling genius. The need to feel her submit to him. The need to hold her tight until she couldn't breathe, dammit. Before he could think about what he was doing (or the possible consequences of his actions), he had pushed her by her shoulders into the wall of the Pokemon Centre, digging his fingertips into her arms. Something was so very wrong about it all, he knew, but his body seemed intent on ignoring the voice in his head screaming to let go and run off per his usual manner.

"Silver, what are you…" Lyra trailed off, those big brown doe eyes blinking at him innocuously.

He didn't meet her (beautiful, warm chocolatey) eyes. He didn't say a word. He only held her against the firm wall, the only thing that wasn't spinning. After a tense moment, he made the fatal mistake of flicking his eyes up to see her expression, furrowed brow and moue and all.

"Silver-" she tried again, but she was cut off by a pair of lips crashing against hers, forcing her to dig her shoulder blades into the wall and almost shocking her into dropping the bag at her side. With the impact, she could have sworn she heard teeth click in his fervour.

For one fleeting moment, she found some kind of twisted bliss. Then, Silver parted from her flushed and left slightly out of breath from his sudden catharsis.

"I don't need love," he nearly hissed, face still only an inch away. "I did that, and I can assure you I feel no love for you." His own words left him confused and his world spinning faster than before. He found the only remedy in meeting her mouth again with his, not even trying to keep his tongue from getting involved. After a hesitant moment, Lyra responded to his advances, hearing a rumble from deep in the young man's chest that he let escape as a soft moan. He extracted himself from her lips to trail hungry kisses down her jaw to her ear.

"Silver," Lyra gasped between the spikes of pleasure running up and down her body, "don't you...think...we should get...a room?"

"Mmm...good idea," he breathed against the sensitive skin of her neck, and Lyra could just barely detect the growl behind his words. "I was just thinking the same thing." A blatant lie - he hadn't been thinking, really, at all. At least not with his head.

So he pulled away, dragging Lyra by the arm through the sliding doors of the Centre, lust-hazed eyes catching sight of the hallway leading to his temporary sleeping quarters during his brief stay in Cherrygrove City. He fumbled with the key, managing to get it in the lock after about three and a half tries with his shaking hands and straying imagination. It was a small wonder he didn't rip the door right off its hinges in his ardour, followed by a slightly dazed Lyra. Once again, as soon as the door shut, Silver's body acted before his mind, grabbing the young woman by her elbow and all but throwing her on the bed. She'd hardly pulled her hat off and pigtails out when he crawled over to straddle her, his knees on both sides of her hips.

"Sh-shoes," she managed between his voracious kisses and he gave barely a thought as he kicked off his sneakers, adeptly pulling hers off as well with only his feet. I wasn't long before his jacket and shirt, as well as her own blouse, had followed the shoes to the floor. The bed sheets twisted beneath them; his hands felt everywhere at once - tangled in her soft brown hair, pressing into the small of her back, ghosting over her chest. His mouth was even busier, occasionally offering a nip at which Lyra would let out a whimper. Leave thinking over the rash decision for later.

He was enjoying this too much, winning.

Both were in so deep, even the girl's hands straying to the hem of Silver's pants, neither noticed the door softly open to allow in the sterile white light of the corridor.

"Ah, e-excuse me, sir!" Both Silver and Lyra looked up (one annoyed, the other ashamed) to see the silhouette of a young woman, hardly more than a girl, covering her eyes. The light from the shaded window was enough to discern her uniform designating her as a cleaning maid, as well as the darkening of her cheeks. "You didn't lock the door! I'll c-come back later!" She hurriedly shut the door, leaning crumpled against the whitewashed walls of the hall outside, eyes wide open despite the change back to the bright light.

It wasn't long before the two in the near dark returned to the task at hand.

A/N: God, Silver is the greatest seme to ever exist in the annals of Pokemon fanfiction. Miaow. I swear, this is the closest thing I'll ever get to writing smut.