Yes, Lucy, finally.
+ + +
+ + +
Insults, being hit and hit on, and a near-constant level of stress. What better
continuation of an evening of such fun than hitting the dance floor? At least, that
was what Gary wanted to know; Ash still felt kinda weirded out after being more-or-
less felt-up by Richie.
"I mean, it's really kinda nasty when you think about it," he told Gary. "I feel
dirty."
His companion gave a mock pout. "So you don't want to dance with me?"
Well... that was a different question.
"Wow," Ash said, a bit daunted as they made it to the entrance. "It's like a real
dance club." Granted, going clubbing was rather low on the pokemon trainer's usual
list of priorities so he really didn't have much to compare it with, but he imagined
that the DJ and the packed dance floor counted as close enough. Maybe he should have
gone with Misty and Brock when he'd had the chance... could've been good practice.
"Yeah," Gary said, nonplussed. "Something like that. Let's dance," he grinned, his
smirk now almost endearing. Before Ash had a chance to ponder whether he liked that
or not, there was no time to think about it, as Gary quickly pulled him onto the
dance floor. Ash was immediately struck with a feeling of awe-- the flashing lights,
throbbing beat, and strange animated visuals projected on a screen served to take
him to another world. He could feel the beat, move with it, feel the music around
him, inside him, the most delicate of embraces. And he couldn't help but express
this love through actions, and he danced with an intensity he'd never felt before.
A lull in the music; he felt eyes upon him. "Gary?"
The older teen had a slightly horrified expression on his face. "What the hell are
you doing?"
"Um, dancing?"
Gary sighed.
+ + +
driving on the right
by erin ellis
five: do you crash?
+ + +
"You don't like my dancing?" Ash felt more disappointed than defensive. "What's
wrong with it?"
Gary gave a pained look, biting back his true remark. "I didn't -say- it was bad or
anything... it's very... unique. And uncommon. Hey, how about I show you a few
steps?"
"Oh... okay," Ash said, somewhat uncertain. He'd thought he was really getting into
the groove and whatnot. The music abruptly changed to a slower song, and the floor
quickly cleared to leave couples.
"This'll be easier for you... basically, all you do is stand and sway."
"Sounds doable," Ash chirped, a slight catch in his voice. Gently, Gary lifted Ash's
hands to rest on his shoulders, and left his own on Ash's hips (did he really have
hips? Misty was so dead). Ash followed Gary's lead, swaying roughly to the beat and
alternately gazing into and desperately avoiding his gaze.
His lips were curved upwards the next time Ash dared look at them, his expression
pleasant. "You're not half bad."
"Really? I guess it's pretty easy," he said.
"I guess you have a good teacher," Gary gently chided.
"If you say so," Ash replied, sticking out his tongue. But he still turned, resting
his head against Gary's chest. Even though he looked calm as always, his heart
seemed to be thumping as quickly as Ash's. Ash decided to let himself believe that
he was the reason for such, and hoped that the song would never end.
+ + +
"So, how's the ambiguously gay duo over there doing?"
"Well, Ash and Gary are still going at it--" Brock broke off as Misty started to
choke. "Dancing, I mean. They're still dancing."
"Maybe you should clarify those things beforehand," the redhead hacked, face pale.
"Don't worry, I wouldn't let anything go on in our room, at least not until I could
get video feeds set up to sell to your little yaoi-fiend friends."
Misty opened her mouth then closed it. "I don't even know what to say to that." So
she hit him instead.
"Okay, okay, you can have fifty percent of net profits, ow!"
"Sixty-five, of gross. Ash being gay is making me insecure in my femininity," she
deadpanned.
"Here is where I -could- say something rather nasty, but I won't."
"I see you value your life," she said upbeatly. Richie approached the pair, looking
downtrodden. "Hey, Richie, what's wrong?"
"Um, er, hi, Misty, do are you howing?" he stammered, flushing wildly.
"I'm... fine," she replied, looking a bit pained.
"What's up with you?" Brock asked, patting the boy on the shoulder. "You look like
you've lost your best friend."
"Oh, well-- It's a bit... personal," he said, chewing on his bottom lip. His gaze
flicked from the dance floor to Misty.
Brock pursed his lips. "Well, why don't you just tell me and Uncle Brock'll make it
all better?" Richie didn't even make a reaction to the jibe, though Misty made a
bunch of faces at him as Richie whispered into his ear. Brock did his best not to
crack a smile.
"So... I'm sorry," Richie finished, looking sheepish.
"Don't worry about it. You know that's Ash, right?" he said, forking his thumb at
the dancing couple.
"...huh?"
Misty's face was akin to the cat who ate the canary. "A bit surprised at Ash's...
after-hours pursuits?" she smirked, draping herself around his shoulders. "Those are
my favorite hairclips," the redhead pointed out, voice distant.
"You can't help but be a bit proud of him though. He took to those heels like a fish
to water," Brock said, patting them both on the shoulder.
"Are... are you drunk?" Richie asked, concerned.
"Not yet. You?"
Richie chewed his lip for a bit, then threw up his hands. "Let's do something," he
grinned.
"Told you he wasn't just a goody-goody," Brock said, following them to the dance
floor.
+ + +
Despite any previous comments or opinions, dancing really wasn't that bad. By this
point in the night, the DJ was playing a good mix of fast and slow songs, though it
was the slower tracks that Ash found more satisfying. Partially, this was because he
was better at the dancing, and the other part was rather obvious. He'd seen several
of his friends and acquaintances on the floor, and everyone seemed to be having an
good time. Duplica had even given him a thumbs up as she danced by. Actually, they
might have to talk later...
"Hey, there's Professor O..." Ash noted, remembering too late their earlier
conversation. "And with him-- Oh crap, that's m--" Crud, was Ashley even allowed to
know who it was? But it was still freaky as anything to see his mother slow dancing
with Professor Oak.
"I know," Gary said, angling them away from the older couple. "It happens quite
often, you know. If you'd been around Indigo more often, you'd probably've noticed."
"Oh..." Ash didn't know what to think about this. Mom had been keeping secrets from
him, that wasn't cool. And wasn't the professor like five bazillion years old?
...Danced well enough though. Better than Ash, though that didn't take much.
Actually, they looked pretty good together.
"Maybe it won't be too bad," Ash murmured. "Ketchums and Oaks seem to go pretty good
together."
"What makes you say that?" Gary said sharply.
"What makes you not?"
Gary looked back up, out to the dance floor, avoiding his eyes. "Ash Ketchum is my
rival. You spend time trying to avoid rivals, or beat them, not become closer to
them."
Ash really hoped he wasn't going to mess things up as he began to speak. "Then, why
not stop being rivals?"
"It just doesn't work that way," he said, impatient.
"Well, why not?" Ash persisted. Everything would just be so much easier if they
didn't have to compete... then... maybe... he could make him...
"Ashley," he began, dropping Ash's shoulders and fingering his pendant. "We've been
rivals for a long time. Some things never change."
"That doesn't mean that they shouldn't... or that they can't. Isn't it hard to hate
someone for so long? Isn't it just tiring?" He was so tired. It had to be so for
Gary too.
"Maybe... that's all I have. Maybe the only thing going for me; the definition of
Gary is just Ash's rival. So then, I make peace, and he doesn't. I'm left with
nothing, not even an enemy." He was looking away, voice bitter and small. "You
probably don't understand that either."
"Oh... Oh Gary." How incredibly, heartbreakingly wrong he was! Ash looked downwards,
carefully considering each word. "Sometimes... it's really hard to take that first
step. And you need to be brave, and do something that might seem kinda stupid. You
can't hold on to things like pride, or little annoyances... because maybe that other
person is just waiting for you, just like you're waiting for him. And then you start
to wonder... how much time do you lose, have you wasted, trying to beat him? What do
you win, anyway?" He realized he was speaking in his own voice, not the slightly
higher tones 'Ashley' had used, but he didn't care. He stared insistently into
Gary's face, but it was dark, unreadable. "Such an obsession with the word 'loser'
and we're trapped in a stupid standoff for years!"
Gary stopped, eyes onyx pebbles. "And so the only solution is for me to give up? So
that you can have your victory? Just so that you can finally beat me? Is -that- what
this is all about, Ash?"
"What?" They could have put Ash's picture as the definition of 'confused' in the
dictionary. Gary knew he was him-- but that wasn't even the problem. Victory? Give
up? "No, you've got it all wrong. We need to--"
"No, -you- need to just stop this. You know, if I tried, I could almost think that
was the real you. And if I let myself, I'd wish it was. That's what you wanted to
hear, now isn't it? So tell me: what's the punchline, Ash? This has been one
elaborate scheme, but I'm sick of it. Let's get this over with."
What? "You... you think I was playing with you?" Ash's voice was rising, and with it
all rational thought went out the window. -He- was the one taking the risk, -he- was
the one more-or-less baring his feelings, and if he so happened to be doing so in
drag under an assumed identity, what was the difference? Gary didn't have the-- the
-right- to be angry with him! "You stupid jerk!" Ash finally gave in to the
temptation he'd fought on and off since he was ten, and punched him across the face.
Gary refused to look at him; he actually hadn't turned back from where Ash had hit
him. Whatever. If he was going to be like that, Ash didn't care -what- he looked at;
he was leaving. The fact that the world was becoming a little blurry had nothing to
do with it. Or the fact that the whole dance floor seemed to be looking at them...
Ash whirled on his heel and stalked out, anywhere but there. Faintly he felt someone
grab at his arm, tell him to wait. He shook it away, breaking-- well, not -quite-
into a run, but something pretty close.
Oh God. He was so angry, so humiliated, so betrayed-- both by Gary, but moreso by
himself. There had been a reason they'd stopped being friends so long ago. Ash
growled bitterly, something that only by coincidence sounded like a sob. He should
have known; even in matters of the heart, Gary would never let him win.
+ + +
So the night hadn't worked out for some ridiculous reason -- in this case, because
his date was Ash Ketchum, his rival, didn't he always attract the winners -- just
another chapter in the oh-so-exciting comedy of errors that was Gary Oak's Life. Oh,
he so loved being him. --Well, he did, actually, though sometimes it really didn't
seem worth it. Like when your rival gets the best of you -again-, and you're left
behind to face the crowd as the guilty party. Vultures. It wasn't like they expected
anything different from him. Look! It's Gary Oak, rich kid bad-boy! Watch him act
unfeeling and snort disaffectedly! How amusing! Let's point and whisper and laugh at
his misfortune! ...Stupid sheep.
And oh, look, here comes his equally if not more high-profile grandfather to fuss
and make a huge scene! You couldn't pay for better entertainment than this! Annoying
old fart, sticking his nose in other people's business. Well, it probably had more
to do with Gramps than he thought, if he was doing what Gary thought he was doing
with a certain single mother of a certain driven pokemon trainer who wore heels
surprisingly well.
Anyway, Gary quickly slouched out of the room before the old man had a chance to
catch up. His hand rose unconsciously to his bruised cheek, feeling at the tender
flesh there. What a jerk. Punching him in the face when he -knew- he had a panel
tomorrow. And it wasn't like he could just blame it all on Ketchum either without
having to answer a bunch of questions he didn't feel like answering to himself, much
less for the sheep. He probably planned that as well, the loser.
Of course, for some reason, it felt like he--
Gary scowled. He needed a cigarette.
He found one in his pocket and a place to smoke it outside; even though it was a
nastily humid night, it was better than being in there, with the mindless drones,
all dancing and touching and being with each other. Here he could be alone and
think.
"You don't even deserve him," a strident voice said, disgusted, coupled with a yank
at his shoulder.
Oh, he forgot, 'alone' was for people who wanted friends. Mark up one more time it
Sucked To Be Gary. He wrinkled his nose, allowing himself to be turned around. Oh
joy, it was the shorter and only slightly more feminine half of the Ketchum Fan
Club.
"I dunno, I deserve a lot of things," he drawled, tone of voice calculated to
infuriate.
"Yeah, and most of them are bad," Misty snapped. "You know that Ash isn't smart
enough to try to fool you, and isn't tasteless enough to consider this a joke. Why
do you think he even did all this?"
Gary gave a dismissive shrug. "Why is the sky blue? Why do birds fly and fish swim?
Why are you talking to me? Some things are just mysteries to us all."
Her eyes narrowed. "Quit being an ass for once. Honestly, I don't give a damn what
you do. But there's a kid out there who does. He's heartbroken because of you. He's
one of my best friends in the whole world. And if I can't get to sleep because he's
snivelling over you all night, believe me, you're going to regret it."
Gary decided she wasn't as amusing as previously thought as the grip on his shoulder
tightened sharply. Too bad he didn't hit girls. He settled for exhaling smoke in her
face and stubbing out the remains of his cigarette against the wall as she withdrew.
"Go away, Misty," he said tiredly. "I can ruin my life without your help." ...That
wasn't what he'd meant to say. Not to her.
Before he had to deal with it, he was saved by Richie, of all people. "Misty, you'd
better come quick," he yelled, running from the building. "Brock did something and I
think one of your sisters is gonna kill him and yes, that is a bad thing!" He
recieved a brief but scathing look for his troubles, but held firm, only quaking a
little with fear.
Ignoring her summons, Misty stared at Gary with something more than just rage or
natural bitchiness or whatever it was that usually powered her. And much as he was
loathe to admit it, Gary felt uncomfortable, like a bug pinned to a board by her
gaze. Then she whirled, almost knocking over Richie on her way back to the hotel.
He stared at her retreating back for a while after she'd gone, lost in thought.
Suddenly he shook his head violently, to clear it. It didn't matter. It hadn't
worked out, the end. That didn't matter either. She was just trying to mess with his
head. And succeeding.
It was still in his pocket. It'd be so easy...
He shook his head again. He needed another cigarette.
Today was -really- not a good day to be Gary.
+ + +
Dang it. Dang it! "Dang it!" Ash yelled, kicking the room door. Much as expected
(though one never knew), the door did not open, nor did a key magically appear. To
cap off a night of one surpremely horrible thing after another, his room key had
disappeared. He'd gone back through everywhere he and G-- he had been throughout the
night (and believe it, it had been pretty darned difficult to find someone who would
answer Richie's door). Nothing.
It was too much. Everything was just too much. His foot hurt from kicking the door
(and other various things as he'd wandered around), and his knuckles hurt from
smashing them into a certain someone's horribly smug though utterly attractive
mouth. (Hopefully he knocked loose some teeth. That'd finally have something going
right today.) Plus, the underwire in his bra had started digging into his side if he
shifted the wrong way, and he couldn't figure out whether or not they'd let him into
the guys' bathroom to fix it.
Then he yelped as someone clapped him on the shoulder; he swore he'd been startled
more times in the past few hours than in his entire life. And now, he was most
decidedly not in the mood. He turned, whirling an elbow towards his attacker.
"Awfully violent tonight, aren't we?" Ah, the familiar, horribly nasal, wonderful,
hated voice. He held Ash's elbow away from where it would have crunched into his
midsection... something else tonight that hadn't worked out.
"What are you doing here? I get the point that you hate me, so leave me alone." He
pulled his arm but was not released; rather Gary pulled him closer.
"I've been doing a lot of thinking, looking for you."
"Me too, and I claim temporary insanity," Ash shot. "How about we never speak of
this night again? There's been more than enough horrible events tonight for everyone
I know to hold over my head for the rest of my life." Ash tried wresting his arm
away again, and Gary's grip tightened.
His voice was low, thoughtful. "You told me something about taking a first step,
letting go of pride. That... that wasn't an instruction for -me-, was it."
Ash's struggles abruptly ceased. "It was for us. But that was then, so now--"
"Where am I supposed to step to?" Ash looked sharply at him; Gary looked defensive
and penitent at the same time. "I've got a lot of pride, so it takes a little longer
to let go of. But maybe I can take the second step, if not the first." He reached
for his shoulder, and Ash shrank back. "What?"
"What do you mean, 'what'? You've been hot and cold all night. First you're hitting
on me, then you're telling me I'm stupid. You open up, then insult me. At first, I
thought it was better than the usual insult-fest that I get from you, but now I'm
not so sure. At least with insults I know where I stand. Please--" He broke off as
his voice betrayed him. He had nothing more to say anyway.
There was no more need for Gary to restrain him; Ash stood limply, staring at the
ground, yet Gary did not release his grip on his arms, though it was looser, softer.
"Ash," he said, voice oddly tender. "Your mascara's running."
"Is it?" Ash sniffled. "I don't even know what mascara is. I'm-- this is all so
ridiculous," he said, gesturing around him. "I just-- just-- tonight-- But it
doesn't matter, does it."
Gary fidgeted, thumbs smoothing the fabric of Ash's sweater. "I-- hell, if I said I
never meant to hurt you, that'd be a lie. But-- I guess I didn't figure you'd
actually..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair and starting again. "As I
said, I did a lot of thinking about why you'd do this, and why I'd let you."
"Let--" Ash looked up from his sniffling. "You knew?!"
"Come on, like you really thought you were that great an actress. I knew the whole
time. It'd be easier for you to hide from your own mother." Considering the Mr. Mime
incident, Ash decided to withhold comment on that relative difficulty.
"I can't believe you knew and didn't tell me," he said, sore. But his indignance
took a backseat to a more pressing realization. "If you knew, then why did you say--
Why did you do--"
"I wasn't sure what you wanted," the taller boy continued, looking ahead, over him,
ignoring his words. "I thought-- maybe you'd found me out. I've-- watched you for a
long time, Ash. But now -- finally -- I think I figured out why you did it, " he
said faintly, eyes now boring into his own.
Ash gulped, halted, frozen, entranced by those midnight eyes. "Um... oh?" Suddenly
he was quite aware of the distance that was not between them; of the feel of Gary's
hands strong on his waist (when had that happened?), of the effort needed to
remember to draw breath when he could just stand here like this forever. If only--
And Gary dipped forward, the entire time his eyes on Ash for his reaction. It was a
chaste kiss, just barely brushing the lips. It was unexpected in the way all things
too good to be true are granted, and Ash opened his mouth in surprise. The auburn-
haired teen kissed him again, more seriously this time, and Ash felt his eyes
lidding. This was different than how he'd imagined, and yet so much better. He could
have never imagined that Gary's lips would be so soft, his hands could be so gentle.
He tasted of cigarettes and salsa, and something else indescribably but unmistakably
Gary. Ash sighed at the feeling, and fumblingly returned the kiss, hands tentatively
placed against his chest.
At length (though not quite long enough in Ash's opinion), Gary pulled away. "Maybe
that's why... correct me if I'm wrong," Gary breathed, taking a slight step back.
"Ah... ah..." Ash shook his head, breathless.
He smiled, more friendly than smug. "I thought as much. And now, I think it's time
for all good crossdressers to go to bed," he said, voice uncharacteristically low
and rough. "The panel's pretty early tomorrow, and Pallet is far away."
Panel? ...oh yeah, the panel! "Y-yeah. But... what do you mean 'Pallet'? Why not
just stay here?"
"I don't have a room. I wasn't planning on staying this late. Gramps is probably...
asleep by now."
Ash suddenly remembered Professor Oak saying something about Sharing, Room, and Mom.
"I see..." he said, doing his best not to. "Hey, why don't you spend the night with
us? There's plenty of room, and the others won't-- augh..."
"Need this?" Gary taunted, waving a small piece of plastic in front of his face.
"My key!" He grabbed it and placed it in the lock. "How'd you get this?" Ash
accused.
"I took it before you ran off."
"What? Hey..."
"I rather like how things worked out, don't you?" he said, rather high-handedly.
"Yup! Now, I'll definitely look better than you on the panel, since that you've got
that nasty bruise," Ash commented in the same flippant tone. He shot Gary a grin
over his shoulder, where he was muttering to himself about how he'd figured as much.
He opened the door. "Guys?"
Gathered on the other bed were Brock, Misty, and Richie, tangled together in various
states of undress. Misty was snoring the loudest, Ash thought.
"Looks like we missed the party, not that I would have wanted to see any of it,"
Gary said brightly. Ash blinked a couple times, then smiled, grabbing the camera
from the dresser. Revenge was sweet.
+ + +
And they slept, for their panel was early tomorrow. They had to share a bed, but
neither really seemed to mind.
+ + +
tbc.
+ + +
+ + +
[notes]
+ To be honest, I only like like three lines in this chapter. Find them! And...
uh... maybe you'll like them too.
+ Even though I hate doing so, I switched POVs here, probably to poor effect. The
first was because I can't resist bad puns (Ace and Gary? come on!), but the second
is because I suck, and the part sucks, because I want to write Angsty Gary, which
doesn't work so well in romantic comedy (comedic romance? random crap? whatever).
So... uh... sorry.
+ ugh... love scene... ugh...
+ I feel obliged to put in some public service announcement discouraging the use of
alcohol to enhance one's fanboy-dancing experience, but that could just be because
I'm getting old. Besides, you could end up with Richie in your bed. Okay, maybe that
doesn't necessarily discourage... (but it should! :P)
+ So, actually one of the reasons this is so late is because of Lucy; she sent me
this link to a story that does this same pairing and more-or-less the same plot just
a lot better, so I lost what little confidence in this story I actually had. And, in
a past version of author's notes I had put in the link to give to you. But now I
forget what it is or who writes it... it's not at ff.net, but I'm pretty sure it's
archived at Punk Shishi (which I don't have a link for either; I'm on a roll of
suckage today). It's just one chapter and it involves wings. So, go read it! It's so
much better than this story. But I'm still happy you're here. (hey, why'd you think
I put the link way down here?)
[next]
There is one more chapter. And while I've been saying that for three or four
chapters now, there really is only one more chapter, that should conclude all three
requirements of this story being a Sappy Shishi Fanfic. (yay) Ash and Gary decide
whether or not a kiss is just a kiss. Misty has a scene where she isn't incredibly
swoll. Brock returns (okay, he was in this chapter, but NOT ENOUGH!) And Richie
might get some. But he probably won't.
+ + +
+ + +
Insults, being hit and hit on, and a near-constant level of stress. What better
continuation of an evening of such fun than hitting the dance floor? At least, that
was what Gary wanted to know; Ash still felt kinda weirded out after being more-or-
less felt-up by Richie.
"I mean, it's really kinda nasty when you think about it," he told Gary. "I feel
dirty."
His companion gave a mock pout. "So you don't want to dance with me?"
Well... that was a different question.
"Wow," Ash said, a bit daunted as they made it to the entrance. "It's like a real
dance club." Granted, going clubbing was rather low on the pokemon trainer's usual
list of priorities so he really didn't have much to compare it with, but he imagined
that the DJ and the packed dance floor counted as close enough. Maybe he should have
gone with Misty and Brock when he'd had the chance... could've been good practice.
"Yeah," Gary said, nonplussed. "Something like that. Let's dance," he grinned, his
smirk now almost endearing. Before Ash had a chance to ponder whether he liked that
or not, there was no time to think about it, as Gary quickly pulled him onto the
dance floor. Ash was immediately struck with a feeling of awe-- the flashing lights,
throbbing beat, and strange animated visuals projected on a screen served to take
him to another world. He could feel the beat, move with it, feel the music around
him, inside him, the most delicate of embraces. And he couldn't help but express
this love through actions, and he danced with an intensity he'd never felt before.
A lull in the music; he felt eyes upon him. "Gary?"
The older teen had a slightly horrified expression on his face. "What the hell are
you doing?"
"Um, dancing?"
Gary sighed.
+ + +
driving on the right
by erin ellis
five: do you crash?
+ + +
"You don't like my dancing?" Ash felt more disappointed than defensive. "What's
wrong with it?"
Gary gave a pained look, biting back his true remark. "I didn't -say- it was bad or
anything... it's very... unique. And uncommon. Hey, how about I show you a few
steps?"
"Oh... okay," Ash said, somewhat uncertain. He'd thought he was really getting into
the groove and whatnot. The music abruptly changed to a slower song, and the floor
quickly cleared to leave couples.
"This'll be easier for you... basically, all you do is stand and sway."
"Sounds doable," Ash chirped, a slight catch in his voice. Gently, Gary lifted Ash's
hands to rest on his shoulders, and left his own on Ash's hips (did he really have
hips? Misty was so dead). Ash followed Gary's lead, swaying roughly to the beat and
alternately gazing into and desperately avoiding his gaze.
His lips were curved upwards the next time Ash dared look at them, his expression
pleasant. "You're not half bad."
"Really? I guess it's pretty easy," he said.
"I guess you have a good teacher," Gary gently chided.
"If you say so," Ash replied, sticking out his tongue. But he still turned, resting
his head against Gary's chest. Even though he looked calm as always, his heart
seemed to be thumping as quickly as Ash's. Ash decided to let himself believe that
he was the reason for such, and hoped that the song would never end.
+ + +
"So, how's the ambiguously gay duo over there doing?"
"Well, Ash and Gary are still going at it--" Brock broke off as Misty started to
choke. "Dancing, I mean. They're still dancing."
"Maybe you should clarify those things beforehand," the redhead hacked, face pale.
"Don't worry, I wouldn't let anything go on in our room, at least not until I could
get video feeds set up to sell to your little yaoi-fiend friends."
Misty opened her mouth then closed it. "I don't even know what to say to that." So
she hit him instead.
"Okay, okay, you can have fifty percent of net profits, ow!"
"Sixty-five, of gross. Ash being gay is making me insecure in my femininity," she
deadpanned.
"Here is where I -could- say something rather nasty, but I won't."
"I see you value your life," she said upbeatly. Richie approached the pair, looking
downtrodden. "Hey, Richie, what's wrong?"
"Um, er, hi, Misty, do are you howing?" he stammered, flushing wildly.
"I'm... fine," she replied, looking a bit pained.
"What's up with you?" Brock asked, patting the boy on the shoulder. "You look like
you've lost your best friend."
"Oh, well-- It's a bit... personal," he said, chewing on his bottom lip. His gaze
flicked from the dance floor to Misty.
Brock pursed his lips. "Well, why don't you just tell me and Uncle Brock'll make it
all better?" Richie didn't even make a reaction to the jibe, though Misty made a
bunch of faces at him as Richie whispered into his ear. Brock did his best not to
crack a smile.
"So... I'm sorry," Richie finished, looking sheepish.
"Don't worry about it. You know that's Ash, right?" he said, forking his thumb at
the dancing couple.
"...huh?"
Misty's face was akin to the cat who ate the canary. "A bit surprised at Ash's...
after-hours pursuits?" she smirked, draping herself around his shoulders. "Those are
my favorite hairclips," the redhead pointed out, voice distant.
"You can't help but be a bit proud of him though. He took to those heels like a fish
to water," Brock said, patting them both on the shoulder.
"Are... are you drunk?" Richie asked, concerned.
"Not yet. You?"
Richie chewed his lip for a bit, then threw up his hands. "Let's do something," he
grinned.
"Told you he wasn't just a goody-goody," Brock said, following them to the dance
floor.
+ + +
Despite any previous comments or opinions, dancing really wasn't that bad. By this
point in the night, the DJ was playing a good mix of fast and slow songs, though it
was the slower tracks that Ash found more satisfying. Partially, this was because he
was better at the dancing, and the other part was rather obvious. He'd seen several
of his friends and acquaintances on the floor, and everyone seemed to be having an
good time. Duplica had even given him a thumbs up as she danced by. Actually, they
might have to talk later...
"Hey, there's Professor O..." Ash noted, remembering too late their earlier
conversation. "And with him-- Oh crap, that's m--" Crud, was Ashley even allowed to
know who it was? But it was still freaky as anything to see his mother slow dancing
with Professor Oak.
"I know," Gary said, angling them away from the older couple. "It happens quite
often, you know. If you'd been around Indigo more often, you'd probably've noticed."
"Oh..." Ash didn't know what to think about this. Mom had been keeping secrets from
him, that wasn't cool. And wasn't the professor like five bazillion years old?
...Danced well enough though. Better than Ash, though that didn't take much.
Actually, they looked pretty good together.
"Maybe it won't be too bad," Ash murmured. "Ketchums and Oaks seem to go pretty good
together."
"What makes you say that?" Gary said sharply.
"What makes you not?"
Gary looked back up, out to the dance floor, avoiding his eyes. "Ash Ketchum is my
rival. You spend time trying to avoid rivals, or beat them, not become closer to
them."
Ash really hoped he wasn't going to mess things up as he began to speak. "Then, why
not stop being rivals?"
"It just doesn't work that way," he said, impatient.
"Well, why not?" Ash persisted. Everything would just be so much easier if they
didn't have to compete... then... maybe... he could make him...
"Ashley," he began, dropping Ash's shoulders and fingering his pendant. "We've been
rivals for a long time. Some things never change."
"That doesn't mean that they shouldn't... or that they can't. Isn't it hard to hate
someone for so long? Isn't it just tiring?" He was so tired. It had to be so for
Gary too.
"Maybe... that's all I have. Maybe the only thing going for me; the definition of
Gary is just Ash's rival. So then, I make peace, and he doesn't. I'm left with
nothing, not even an enemy." He was looking away, voice bitter and small. "You
probably don't understand that either."
"Oh... Oh Gary." How incredibly, heartbreakingly wrong he was! Ash looked downwards,
carefully considering each word. "Sometimes... it's really hard to take that first
step. And you need to be brave, and do something that might seem kinda stupid. You
can't hold on to things like pride, or little annoyances... because maybe that other
person is just waiting for you, just like you're waiting for him. And then you start
to wonder... how much time do you lose, have you wasted, trying to beat him? What do
you win, anyway?" He realized he was speaking in his own voice, not the slightly
higher tones 'Ashley' had used, but he didn't care. He stared insistently into
Gary's face, but it was dark, unreadable. "Such an obsession with the word 'loser'
and we're trapped in a stupid standoff for years!"
Gary stopped, eyes onyx pebbles. "And so the only solution is for me to give up? So
that you can have your victory? Just so that you can finally beat me? Is -that- what
this is all about, Ash?"
"What?" They could have put Ash's picture as the definition of 'confused' in the
dictionary. Gary knew he was him-- but that wasn't even the problem. Victory? Give
up? "No, you've got it all wrong. We need to--"
"No, -you- need to just stop this. You know, if I tried, I could almost think that
was the real you. And if I let myself, I'd wish it was. That's what you wanted to
hear, now isn't it? So tell me: what's the punchline, Ash? This has been one
elaborate scheme, but I'm sick of it. Let's get this over with."
What? "You... you think I was playing with you?" Ash's voice was rising, and with it
all rational thought went out the window. -He- was the one taking the risk, -he- was
the one more-or-less baring his feelings, and if he so happened to be doing so in
drag under an assumed identity, what was the difference? Gary didn't have the-- the
-right- to be angry with him! "You stupid jerk!" Ash finally gave in to the
temptation he'd fought on and off since he was ten, and punched him across the face.
Gary refused to look at him; he actually hadn't turned back from where Ash had hit
him. Whatever. If he was going to be like that, Ash didn't care -what- he looked at;
he was leaving. The fact that the world was becoming a little blurry had nothing to
do with it. Or the fact that the whole dance floor seemed to be looking at them...
Ash whirled on his heel and stalked out, anywhere but there. Faintly he felt someone
grab at his arm, tell him to wait. He shook it away, breaking-- well, not -quite-
into a run, but something pretty close.
Oh God. He was so angry, so humiliated, so betrayed-- both by Gary, but moreso by
himself. There had been a reason they'd stopped being friends so long ago. Ash
growled bitterly, something that only by coincidence sounded like a sob. He should
have known; even in matters of the heart, Gary would never let him win.
+ + +
So the night hadn't worked out for some ridiculous reason -- in this case, because
his date was Ash Ketchum, his rival, didn't he always attract the winners -- just
another chapter in the oh-so-exciting comedy of errors that was Gary Oak's Life. Oh,
he so loved being him. --Well, he did, actually, though sometimes it really didn't
seem worth it. Like when your rival gets the best of you -again-, and you're left
behind to face the crowd as the guilty party. Vultures. It wasn't like they expected
anything different from him. Look! It's Gary Oak, rich kid bad-boy! Watch him act
unfeeling and snort disaffectedly! How amusing! Let's point and whisper and laugh at
his misfortune! ...Stupid sheep.
And oh, look, here comes his equally if not more high-profile grandfather to fuss
and make a huge scene! You couldn't pay for better entertainment than this! Annoying
old fart, sticking his nose in other people's business. Well, it probably had more
to do with Gramps than he thought, if he was doing what Gary thought he was doing
with a certain single mother of a certain driven pokemon trainer who wore heels
surprisingly well.
Anyway, Gary quickly slouched out of the room before the old man had a chance to
catch up. His hand rose unconsciously to his bruised cheek, feeling at the tender
flesh there. What a jerk. Punching him in the face when he -knew- he had a panel
tomorrow. And it wasn't like he could just blame it all on Ketchum either without
having to answer a bunch of questions he didn't feel like answering to himself, much
less for the sheep. He probably planned that as well, the loser.
Of course, for some reason, it felt like he--
Gary scowled. He needed a cigarette.
He found one in his pocket and a place to smoke it outside; even though it was a
nastily humid night, it was better than being in there, with the mindless drones,
all dancing and touching and being with each other. Here he could be alone and
think.
"You don't even deserve him," a strident voice said, disgusted, coupled with a yank
at his shoulder.
Oh, he forgot, 'alone' was for people who wanted friends. Mark up one more time it
Sucked To Be Gary. He wrinkled his nose, allowing himself to be turned around. Oh
joy, it was the shorter and only slightly more feminine half of the Ketchum Fan
Club.
"I dunno, I deserve a lot of things," he drawled, tone of voice calculated to
infuriate.
"Yeah, and most of them are bad," Misty snapped. "You know that Ash isn't smart
enough to try to fool you, and isn't tasteless enough to consider this a joke. Why
do you think he even did all this?"
Gary gave a dismissive shrug. "Why is the sky blue? Why do birds fly and fish swim?
Why are you talking to me? Some things are just mysteries to us all."
Her eyes narrowed. "Quit being an ass for once. Honestly, I don't give a damn what
you do. But there's a kid out there who does. He's heartbroken because of you. He's
one of my best friends in the whole world. And if I can't get to sleep because he's
snivelling over you all night, believe me, you're going to regret it."
Gary decided she wasn't as amusing as previously thought as the grip on his shoulder
tightened sharply. Too bad he didn't hit girls. He settled for exhaling smoke in her
face and stubbing out the remains of his cigarette against the wall as she withdrew.
"Go away, Misty," he said tiredly. "I can ruin my life without your help." ...That
wasn't what he'd meant to say. Not to her.
Before he had to deal with it, he was saved by Richie, of all people. "Misty, you'd
better come quick," he yelled, running from the building. "Brock did something and I
think one of your sisters is gonna kill him and yes, that is a bad thing!" He
recieved a brief but scathing look for his troubles, but held firm, only quaking a
little with fear.
Ignoring her summons, Misty stared at Gary with something more than just rage or
natural bitchiness or whatever it was that usually powered her. And much as he was
loathe to admit it, Gary felt uncomfortable, like a bug pinned to a board by her
gaze. Then she whirled, almost knocking over Richie on her way back to the hotel.
He stared at her retreating back for a while after she'd gone, lost in thought.
Suddenly he shook his head violently, to clear it. It didn't matter. It hadn't
worked out, the end. That didn't matter either. She was just trying to mess with his
head. And succeeding.
It was still in his pocket. It'd be so easy...
He shook his head again. He needed another cigarette.
Today was -really- not a good day to be Gary.
+ + +
Dang it. Dang it! "Dang it!" Ash yelled, kicking the room door. Much as expected
(though one never knew), the door did not open, nor did a key magically appear. To
cap off a night of one surpremely horrible thing after another, his room key had
disappeared. He'd gone back through everywhere he and G-- he had been throughout the
night (and believe it, it had been pretty darned difficult to find someone who would
answer Richie's door). Nothing.
It was too much. Everything was just too much. His foot hurt from kicking the door
(and other various things as he'd wandered around), and his knuckles hurt from
smashing them into a certain someone's horribly smug though utterly attractive
mouth. (Hopefully he knocked loose some teeth. That'd finally have something going
right today.) Plus, the underwire in his bra had started digging into his side if he
shifted the wrong way, and he couldn't figure out whether or not they'd let him into
the guys' bathroom to fix it.
Then he yelped as someone clapped him on the shoulder; he swore he'd been startled
more times in the past few hours than in his entire life. And now, he was most
decidedly not in the mood. He turned, whirling an elbow towards his attacker.
"Awfully violent tonight, aren't we?" Ah, the familiar, horribly nasal, wonderful,
hated voice. He held Ash's elbow away from where it would have crunched into his
midsection... something else tonight that hadn't worked out.
"What are you doing here? I get the point that you hate me, so leave me alone." He
pulled his arm but was not released; rather Gary pulled him closer.
"I've been doing a lot of thinking, looking for you."
"Me too, and I claim temporary insanity," Ash shot. "How about we never speak of
this night again? There's been more than enough horrible events tonight for everyone
I know to hold over my head for the rest of my life." Ash tried wresting his arm
away again, and Gary's grip tightened.
His voice was low, thoughtful. "You told me something about taking a first step,
letting go of pride. That... that wasn't an instruction for -me-, was it."
Ash's struggles abruptly ceased. "It was for us. But that was then, so now--"
"Where am I supposed to step to?" Ash looked sharply at him; Gary looked defensive
and penitent at the same time. "I've got a lot of pride, so it takes a little longer
to let go of. But maybe I can take the second step, if not the first." He reached
for his shoulder, and Ash shrank back. "What?"
"What do you mean, 'what'? You've been hot and cold all night. First you're hitting
on me, then you're telling me I'm stupid. You open up, then insult me. At first, I
thought it was better than the usual insult-fest that I get from you, but now I'm
not so sure. At least with insults I know where I stand. Please--" He broke off as
his voice betrayed him. He had nothing more to say anyway.
There was no more need for Gary to restrain him; Ash stood limply, staring at the
ground, yet Gary did not release his grip on his arms, though it was looser, softer.
"Ash," he said, voice oddly tender. "Your mascara's running."
"Is it?" Ash sniffled. "I don't even know what mascara is. I'm-- this is all so
ridiculous," he said, gesturing around him. "I just-- just-- tonight-- But it
doesn't matter, does it."
Gary fidgeted, thumbs smoothing the fabric of Ash's sweater. "I-- hell, if I said I
never meant to hurt you, that'd be a lie. But-- I guess I didn't figure you'd
actually..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair and starting again. "As I
said, I did a lot of thinking about why you'd do this, and why I'd let you."
"Let--" Ash looked up from his sniffling. "You knew?!"
"Come on, like you really thought you were that great an actress. I knew the whole
time. It'd be easier for you to hide from your own mother." Considering the Mr. Mime
incident, Ash decided to withhold comment on that relative difficulty.
"I can't believe you knew and didn't tell me," he said, sore. But his indignance
took a backseat to a more pressing realization. "If you knew, then why did you say--
Why did you do--"
"I wasn't sure what you wanted," the taller boy continued, looking ahead, over him,
ignoring his words. "I thought-- maybe you'd found me out. I've-- watched you for a
long time, Ash. But now -- finally -- I think I figured out why you did it, " he
said faintly, eyes now boring into his own.
Ash gulped, halted, frozen, entranced by those midnight eyes. "Um... oh?" Suddenly
he was quite aware of the distance that was not between them; of the feel of Gary's
hands strong on his waist (when had that happened?), of the effort needed to
remember to draw breath when he could just stand here like this forever. If only--
And Gary dipped forward, the entire time his eyes on Ash for his reaction. It was a
chaste kiss, just barely brushing the lips. It was unexpected in the way all things
too good to be true are granted, and Ash opened his mouth in surprise. The auburn-
haired teen kissed him again, more seriously this time, and Ash felt his eyes
lidding. This was different than how he'd imagined, and yet so much better. He could
have never imagined that Gary's lips would be so soft, his hands could be so gentle.
He tasted of cigarettes and salsa, and something else indescribably but unmistakably
Gary. Ash sighed at the feeling, and fumblingly returned the kiss, hands tentatively
placed against his chest.
At length (though not quite long enough in Ash's opinion), Gary pulled away. "Maybe
that's why... correct me if I'm wrong," Gary breathed, taking a slight step back.
"Ah... ah..." Ash shook his head, breathless.
He smiled, more friendly than smug. "I thought as much. And now, I think it's time
for all good crossdressers to go to bed," he said, voice uncharacteristically low
and rough. "The panel's pretty early tomorrow, and Pallet is far away."
Panel? ...oh yeah, the panel! "Y-yeah. But... what do you mean 'Pallet'? Why not
just stay here?"
"I don't have a room. I wasn't planning on staying this late. Gramps is probably...
asleep by now."
Ash suddenly remembered Professor Oak saying something about Sharing, Room, and Mom.
"I see..." he said, doing his best not to. "Hey, why don't you spend the night with
us? There's plenty of room, and the others won't-- augh..."
"Need this?" Gary taunted, waving a small piece of plastic in front of his face.
"My key!" He grabbed it and placed it in the lock. "How'd you get this?" Ash
accused.
"I took it before you ran off."
"What? Hey..."
"I rather like how things worked out, don't you?" he said, rather high-handedly.
"Yup! Now, I'll definitely look better than you on the panel, since that you've got
that nasty bruise," Ash commented in the same flippant tone. He shot Gary a grin
over his shoulder, where he was muttering to himself about how he'd figured as much.
He opened the door. "Guys?"
Gathered on the other bed were Brock, Misty, and Richie, tangled together in various
states of undress. Misty was snoring the loudest, Ash thought.
"Looks like we missed the party, not that I would have wanted to see any of it,"
Gary said brightly. Ash blinked a couple times, then smiled, grabbing the camera
from the dresser. Revenge was sweet.
+ + +
And they slept, for their panel was early tomorrow. They had to share a bed, but
neither really seemed to mind.
+ + +
tbc.
+ + +
+ + +
[notes]
+ To be honest, I only like like three lines in this chapter. Find them! And...
uh... maybe you'll like them too.
+ Even though I hate doing so, I switched POVs here, probably to poor effect. The
first was because I can't resist bad puns (Ace and Gary? come on!), but the second
is because I suck, and the part sucks, because I want to write Angsty Gary, which
doesn't work so well in romantic comedy (comedic romance? random crap? whatever).
So... uh... sorry.
+ ugh... love scene... ugh...
+ I feel obliged to put in some public service announcement discouraging the use of
alcohol to enhance one's fanboy-dancing experience, but that could just be because
I'm getting old. Besides, you could end up with Richie in your bed. Okay, maybe that
doesn't necessarily discourage... (but it should! :P)
+ So, actually one of the reasons this is so late is because of Lucy; she sent me
this link to a story that does this same pairing and more-or-less the same plot just
a lot better, so I lost what little confidence in this story I actually had. And, in
a past version of author's notes I had put in the link to give to you. But now I
forget what it is or who writes it... it's not at ff.net, but I'm pretty sure it's
archived at Punk Shishi (which I don't have a link for either; I'm on a roll of
suckage today). It's just one chapter and it involves wings. So, go read it! It's so
much better than this story. But I'm still happy you're here. (hey, why'd you think
I put the link way down here?)
[next]
There is one more chapter. And while I've been saying that for three or four
chapters now, there really is only one more chapter, that should conclude all three
requirements of this story being a Sappy Shishi Fanfic. (yay) Ash and Gary decide
whether or not a kiss is just a kiss. Misty has a scene where she isn't incredibly
swoll. Brock returns (okay, he was in this chapter, but NOT ENOUGH!) And Richie
might get some. But he probably won't.