Oh yeah, wasn't this an M-rated fic?
"Y-you can't do this to me! I have a boy to meet… and fans waiting for me… oh, and my family will wonder where I am too!"
Curtis continued after a lack of response from upstairs. "It… it was Yancy who made you do this, wasn't it? What's she paying you?! I… I can give you twice the amount… I have rare Pokémon… come on…" The boy's voice trailed off once the futility of the situation had fully registered in his mind.
Being young and famous, Curtis was not surprised in the least that he had accumulated a sizable share of devoted fans; in fact he rather enjoyed how far some were willing to go to prove the extent of their admiration… he didn't really know whether those people had shrines dedicated to him in their homes, or if he was fetching some lucky girl a hefty sum of money on the market by cutting off a lock of his hair as a keepsake, but it did not matter, so long as the attention was there.
However, this was something else entirely, and the idolization this woman bore towards the boy dwarfed that of any other… he realized now that one could indeed have too much of a good thing.
With his thin wrist cuffed to a pipe in the house's basement, Curtis cursed himself for accepting the seemingly innocuous invitation into the woman's home. She had initially seemed like the standard brand of Curtis devotee, though perhaps a little unversed in the ways of respecting personal space, but he could now clearly see how literally mad for the young idol she really was. He should have seen it coming though… After all, is it not a little suspicious that a housewife should ask a young boy to escort her down to her own basement without providing a reasonable excuse?
The handsome boy was so bored that he began to sing to himself the songs he wrote in an attempt to stave off despair, and his current mood had given the tune a more melancholic inflection.
"…Oh my, that's my favorite song, Christoph. How nice of you to sing the favorite song of your biggest, number one fan," a voice from upstairs chimed in, to be shortly followed by the owner of that voice coming down to the basement to check up on her prey.
Once she arrived, Curtis stopped his singing, and glared with angry yet fearful eyes, like a Durant in the face of an entire Heatmor colony, at the mother of Nate, the boy he desired; that fact continued to remain unbeknownst to him, and he didn't even know if this housewife even had a son, or any children. It was all he could do to leer at her, as furious as he was towards his captor, he was a lover and not a fighter, and violence was just not in his nature.
"Oh, don't stop now, hon," Nate's mother enthused. "You're not afraid of performing just for me and nobody else, are you?"
Curtis shook his head. "I can't perform when I'm all chained up like this, you know. How about you get rid of these handcuffs so I can show you my new moves?"
The brown-haired woman saw through his ruse and did not even entertain him by pretending to fall for his trick. Instead, her face pouted, and she slid the mug she held across to where the boy lay helpless. Curtis eyed the mug, decorated with pictures of dancing Pokémon, and noticed the liquid inside, dark in the dim lighting of the basement and wafting the strong scent of coffee.
"I don't drink coffee," Curtis said. He was lying of course (coffee was nice, but for him nothing could outshine a nice cup of tea), however he could afford to take no chances with this mysterious and surprisingly underhanded host.
Nate's mother smirked slyly. "Oh, you're not going to be drinking this, silly, I am. I just need you to add something to it for me." When she saw that the cute boy did not quite follow, she bent down to unzip his pants without removing them, making a bead of sweat trickle down from Curtis's head.
"It could use some cream."
"Cream?" Curtis was confused for a second, and gasped once he managed to grasp what she was trying to suggest. "W-what?! That's… that's gross, and weird!"
"Hmm, that's too bad," the woman said, gazing mischievously, "That's all I need from you before I let you go."
%%%
"Come on, Sableye, when Mom sees how good you are now, she'll have to let you stay!"
Having returned once again to Aspertia City, Nate raced home, with the now-learned Sableye following closely. As he had expected, the door to his house was unlocked, yet the boy could not see his mother in the kitchen, living room, or anywhere else. Considering that the woman very rarely left the house for any reason, this seemed like a rather odd occurrence.
While Nate sat on the couch, pondering on the mystery of his mother's whereabouts, the purple ghost Pokémon began to poke about the doorways, pausing in surprise when it approached the door leading to the basement.
"Sehh? Seheheheh…" the jewel-eyed Pokémon chuckled, sensing that something intriguing was taking place beyond the closed door. Once Nate saw how Sableye was fumbling about with the doorknob, unable to properly grasp the rounded thing with its stubby claws, he was about got up to lend a hand, before getting interrupted by a knock on the house's front door. Opening it, Nate was quite surprised to see that waiting on the outside was none other than Cheren, wearing his shirt and tie as always.
The black-haired Gym Leader waved politely. "Hello, Nate. Have you been training that Sableye of yours?" Peering past the boy to see the Pokémon struggling to open the basement door, he answered himself, "I guess not," to earn a sad pout from the young trainer.
"Did you want something, Cheren?" Nate asked, with a little frustration. After the way he had been humiliated from their previous meeting, he was beginning to lose patience with the older boy's snide wise-cracks.
"Actually I did," Cheren replied, straightening his tie. "Come with me." Nate raised his eyebrow in suspicion, wary of how vague the instructions were.
The Gym Leader sighed wearily in response to Nate's resistance. "Please."
Nate had to wonder what Cheren wanted. This somewhat secretive behavior was most unusual, coming from a boy not known for hiding motives or acting troublesome. Still, the visor-wearing boy knew that he was ambitious in pursuing his goals, and called Sableye over as an escort, just in case things would suddenly take a turn for the worse. Once organized at last, the party of three departed from the house, unaware of the boy who was effectively held hostage in the basement, and the woman whose fanaticism was simply too strong.
%%%
Seated at a bench, Yancy waited in Nimbasa City's park, humming quietly to herself and hoping she had provided an accurate description of the boy she wanted everyone who watched her show to search for. The girl could only wonder how many people had tuned in for that important announcement, but judging by how this part of the city was less lively with passersby than usual, either a lot of people were searching in distant locations, or barely anybody had cared to search for the boy at all. Tension knotted at Yancy's insides as doubt was casted in her mind… Did she not act genuinely enough? Should she have promised a more handsome reward for their efforts? She wished that Curtis had not stolen her Xtransceiver; she would at least be able to pass time by chatting with her friends if she still had the device, or playing that silly balloon game app on it.
Yancy had almost fallen asleep after one hour had passed, and already she had felt like her plan had ended spectacularly in failure. She had to admit, looking back on it, that it was most far-fetched of her to think that she could rally an audience into doing her bidding, and then there was the possibility that Nate himself had seen what she said, and went into hiding to avoid getting caught… but didn't he have something he wanted to tell the girl? Among the commotion that jealous Curtis had created, the pink-haired idol had forgotten all about the troublesome Sableye she had given to Nate, to the point where she was puzzled by the small purple shape that accompanied the cute visor-clad boy, who had, after another half-hour or so of waiting, finally arrived with the company of another man Yancy had not seen before.
"Here he is," Cheren announced, gesturing to Nate as if Yancy were a game show contestant and she had just won the very coveted prize of a young, brown-haired boy. Overcome with joy and relief, she treated Nate to another tackle-hug, almost making him collapse with the force of it.
Unable to understand what exactly was going on, Nate just had to ask, "Yancy? …What's going on? Why did Cheren bring me here?" To that, she replied, "Sorry, Natey-poo, I got so lonely without you that I had to ask… um, what's his name, Chair-en, to help me find you. And he did a great job at it!"
Cheren and Sableye looked on in bemusement, before the older boy asked for his promised reward. "So, do I get my reward now or what?" In response, Yancy simply waved her hand without looking at Cheren. "Yeah, yeah, I'll have it all sorted out for you very soon. Just let me be with my Nate for now, pleeeease."
In disappointment, Cheren walked off, displaying his middle finger in a vulgar way as he did so, to show to Yancy what he thought of having to wait to get what he deserved. She payed no mind to Cheren's rudeness though, as she was more focused on continuing to cuddle with a rather nonplussed Nate. The pink-haired girl smiled widely as she eyeballed her prize, from his dark brown, untamed hair, to his petite, boyish body, all the way down to his… unclothed legs?
"Uh… Yancy," Nate asked. "Where did you put my shorts?"
Yancy had to scoop up a droplet of drool with her tongue before replying.
"I thought you were the one who took them off… But I guess it doesn't matter now, does it?"
