Begin With the End in Mind

by vegetables

The end of the road is never particularly bright. - SundaeShipping, Harley/Max, Harley/Masato.

9. Part Nine

Part Nine

-Max-

The thick sheets were bundled against my body, enclosing me in the warm bed. My eyes were still shut, and I rested my head on the pillow bent to the side, causing me to become more huddled and squished. It wasn't cold, but I enjoyed the feeling of the sheets, and with the sun's soft heat beating down on my back, I felt very relaxed. I wasn't sure what time it was, but I did not want to get up.

Absently, I thought about yesterday and how Harley and I had ice skated. It had been really fun, especially since I had to teach Harley. He hadn't gotten very far in the lesson, but at least he tried. I still couldn't help chuckle at the amount of times he fell. It was just so unrealistic for Harley, who always seemed so above doing something that would undoubtedly make him look silly. I was glad he was open to trying it out.

Of course, Drew had showed up and ruined some of the day. His claims of wanting to tell May and how May "deserved to know" still irritated me. It wasn't May's business, whether I was talking to her or not. Jeesh. But, I had told Drew I was going to break the news. I was lying, for the most part, but the problem was, if Drew found out I hadn't told my sister, he would tell her for me. It was like I was trapped, like he wanted her to know more than anything. If I didn't see the problem with being involved with Harley then why did I have to go out of my way to work up the courage to fill May in on the news?

Suddenly, I heard a rough scrape of metal against metal, causing me to sit up in surprise, searching for the cause of the noise. It was then that I realized Harley was not in bed with me, and instead, he was standing by the balcony window, having swung the curtains all the way to the end to get all the sunlight into the room. I rose an eyebrow in confusion, still buried halfway between all the sheets. The man was carrying a rather large tray of food, much larger than any tray he had previously brought to me for breakfast or dinner. In fact, it was almost entirely covered in the metal lids that hid the food.

"Oh, um, good morning," I greeted, throwing some of the sheets off my body. I wasn't wearing anything so I kept my lower-body covered.

"Happy birthday, my sweet Maximus," he said, smiling widely as he set the tray on the bed and crawled up on his knees. "You're thirteen today." He was only wearing a light blue robe, tied-up and aligning his body well.

I blinked a few times, my head clearing from my last bit of sleepy blurs. "Oh," I voiced. "I forgot about that."

"How could you forget?" the man wondered, trapping me between his legs as he crawled over me. "It's my darling's special day."

I blushed, feeling very claimed by the man's insistence. He leaned down, giving me a kiss on the cheek. I smiled when he put a hand on my shoulder, rubbing the spot he had bit me a few nights ago. Finally, Harley brushed back some of my hair, then sat up, presenting the tray to me by uncovering all the lids.

"Jeez!" I exclaimed, looking at all the food. There were pancakes, eggs, toast, muffins—everything—and I was so baffled by why he would order all this when I surely couldn't eat it all. "Harley, are you trying to make me throw up by eating this all?"

Harley waved a hand in a forward answer. "No, darling, I just wasn't sure what the birthday boy wanted." He picked up a plain muffin and bit into it. "Mmm!" he commented, smiling as he chewed.

I chose to eat the toast, placing the plate on my lap and biting into the bread. It was very warm and soft, and I was surprised by how perfect it tasted. "I almost thought you forgot about my birthday," I admitted. "I mean, these days sort of flew by, and although I kept remembering it was coming up, I blanked it out this morning."

Harley shrugged. "Why would I forget? I told you I wouldn't." He extended an arm and brushed through my messy hair again. "You're thirteen!"

"Do you still like me?" I wondered. "Or, is thirteen too old?"

"Maximus!" Harley barked, slapping me playfully on the shoulder (although it sort of hurt). "You sound like that fucker, Drew."

I laughed, smiling in amusement. "I know, I know! I'm just joking though!" I grinned some more before picking up a glass of orange juice and sipping.

"Oh, you little liar," he argued, wagging a finger as he held the half-eaten muffin in his other hand. "Does Maximus worry that he'll get too old for me to want to shag?"

I furrowed my brow. "Well, if you put it that way, then—"

Harley interrupted me, shouting, "Don't be bloody silly, dear! I don't think that could ever happen. You'll always be twelve—or, well, eleven—years younger than me, and therefore worth my shagging for a lifetime." He laughed.

I wasn't sure what a lifetime was to him, but it sort of bothered me that he even suggested getting older could hinder whether or not he still liked me. I had mentioned it jokingly, but his statement made it sound like he had already considered it time and time again. But, I was still the same kid I was yesterday; I hadn't changed physically at all, so maybe I was just being negative.

After Harley was done with the muffin, he started picking at another piece of toast, tearing off the crust and eating only the buttery middle part. I ate most of the pancakes until the syrup became cold and unpleasant. When we were through with it, Harley took the tray and placed it in the hallway.

While he was gone, I flattened out the sheets around me, getting ready to stand up and get changed for the day. Before I could manage, Harley came back into the room, and I was immediately stilled by the sight of him holding a colorful bag, a bag that was undoubtedly a present. I gaped, furrowing my brow harshly and staring at how he swished over to me, crawling back on the bed again and dropping the present right into my lap in a plop.

"Harley…" I said, confused and surprised at the same time. "I… I told you I didn't want anything though."

"I know you did," he assured in a nod. "But, darling, I couldn't help it."

I looked down at the present, sparkly and stuffed with pink tissue paper to match the light purple bag. I had no idea what he could've gotten me but I was very touched by the gesture. He honestly did not have to go out of his way to do this. And, speaking of which, when did he find the time? I figured maybe that's what he did when I was battling Jasmine, but I wasn't sure. I'd have to ask later.

"Well, go on!" he urged. "Open it!"

I exhaled softly, spreading the perfect tissue paper and beginning to get a peek at the inside of the bag. I reached in, grasping what I saw, which happened to be wrapped and taped in the pink paper, too. It was oddly shaped, looking like it was a box of some sort. I tore the paper, seeing a plastic case, clear and revealing what the actual present was. It took a moment to sink in, but I realized that it was a dark green umbrella.

My expression softened. I opened the transparent plastic case, letting the umbrella drop into my grip. It was one of the types that closed in a much small, tighter branch and sealed with a long Velcro strap. I looked up at Harley, who had a goofy grin on his face. It might've seemed silly, but something in my stomach fluttered and my heart sank, the immediate beginning of a staggering sentiment that sort of startled me. I couldn't get myself to look at Harley for a very long time after realizing just how weird the present made me feel. Color burned onto my cheeks, and I began stuttering.

Harley laughed and leaned forward, getting closer to my face. "Can you throw out that poncho now?"

This made me chuckle softly. "I guess," I said, allowing him to tilt my chin up. Instead of waiting for it, I craned my neck, placing my lips on his and locking him in a rather deep kiss.

It took a lot for me to do this, but I was glad; it was an affirmation of how much I appreciated the memorabilia he had given me. No one else would've understood it, but I did. I felt Harley's lips extend in a smile through the kiss, and thankfully, without my glasses in the way, I was able to press myself against him fully.

"Thank you, Harley," I finally said, still keeping him close. "This was really, um, sweet of you to do."

"Well, that fucking plastic bag of a thing you wore was absolutely hideous, so I hope this also helps your fashion sense, too." He stamped a kiss on my forehead, pressing in some of my hair as well. He then grabbed the umbrella from me, throwing it lightly to the side and pushing the bag against me. "There's something else."

"Something else?" I blinked, confused, but reached in, feeling something silky and soft that definitely was not wrapped up in any tissue. Scrunched up in my hand, I shook the small, green-colored—just like the umbrella—material loose and saw what they were revealed to be: a pair of underwear.

Harley took them from my grip, stretching them out with his fingers and waving them in front of my face. "Ta-da!" he exclaimed. "Just like the old ones we threw out, except green and maybe a tinsy bit tighter."

"Harley!" I yelled, grabbing the things and throwing them down on the bed. "Why would you buy something like this for me?"

"Hey, you're the one who owned a strikingly similar pair way before I showed up to remind you how good you looked in them." He gave a feline grin, picking the underwear up again and rubbing them against my face. "Soft, huh?"

I frowned deeply. "I like the umbrella better," I droned. "Way to ruin the mood. I was starting to feel like you were doing something, like, sweet and nice."

"I am!" he insisted. "I thought it was appropriate for a boy's thirteenth birthday."

I tried my best not to smile, but I was sort of amused by how much he honestly thought there was nothing wrong with what he got me to pair up with the umbrella. I shook my head, saying, "You're weird."

"That's why you absolutely cannot resist me," he assured, pinning me down on the kissed my neck, stroking my hair and rubbing a hand up and down my chest. "You better fucking wear these, especially after the look the cashier gave me when I was buying them. I swear, she must have thought I was a perverted bastard."

"Uh, aren't you?" I wondered, creasing my brow.

"Ah, it's not my fault you look so good in crazy little boy undies," he protested, sitting up but still trapping me beneath his body.

Already I felt a stiffness growing in his lower-body, a lusty desire that was forming as he watched me simply lie against the bed. It was overwhelming that I could create this sort of desire in him, but also very satisfying. Before everything happened with him, I had no idea I was capable of making someone feel this way and it had become very addictive.

"Put them on, please," he suggested, taking the underwear and pushing them against my chest. "I want to see you in them."

"It's my birthday, Harley. This doesn't benefit me." I rose my eyebrows to emphasize my point, but I knew it wasn't as powerful as I would've liked to think.

"Ahh, don't make it sound like you won't enjoy it," he debated, taking the things himself and scooting down my body. "I'm going to put them on for you then. Like last time."

Unlike the first time, however, I didn't fight him. As he lowered himself down my body, he stopped at my hips, using his palm to massage my inner thighs, causing a shiver to sputter through my body. I was forced to shut my eyes, knowing I was going to grow hard soon. I felt Harley swoop an arm under my leg and begin to put on the green underwear. My hips rose, an involuntary declaration for him to touch me, and sure enough, he was quick to follow through, using a single finger to design invisible patterns on my flesh. This delicate touch made a soundless moan escape my mouth, and I felt the strong arousal form.

The silky material on my body made me shiver even more, and as he purposely used an open-palmed hand to glide up my leg, the lust between us only grew. When he leaned against my body, I felt how hard he was himself. I swallowed hard, not expecting the opening of presents to lead to this.

Soon, Harley untied his robe, throwing it aside and pressing his chest against mine as he stamped more kisses on my shoulder and neck. I groaned very softly, feeling his hand stroke me through the thin material of the underwear. He then aligned our bodies properly, wasting no time to rub himself against. He felt so warm and solid, a much more powerful thrust than normal. He seemed needy, desperate, and very, very enticed by the silly undergarment on me.

"You're thirteen, darling," he repeated, moving the crooks of his elbows beneath my underarms and pulling me up against the headboard. "Know what that means?"

"I'm a teenager," I breathed out, not bothering to fight and instead, pulling the man towards me. I spread my legs a bit, allowing each to be on either side of his hips.

The man smiled, and I saw something devilish in it. "Well, yes, but it also means that you—my sweet, delicious tart—are required to receive thirteen spankings!" He was rough, flipping me over in a rush and forcing me on his lap.

"Wait! Harley—!" I protested, squirming around on my stomach. "Spankings? Are you nuts?"

"Not at all!" he said happily. "It's a tradition! Now, are you ready?" I felt his hand rise up, his palm spread and his fingers aligned.

"Harley!" I yelled again.

He didn't stop though. Instead, he smacked his hand down, straight onto my bottom, against the material and against my flesh. I was startled by the hit: my entire body jerked, and I let out a rather shaky grunt that I tried to quiet down with pursed lips.

"One," he began, and I could feel the smirk in his words.

"That really hurt!" I shouted. "I mean, Christ, Harley, why would you do that! What's wrong with you!"

Instead of a verbal response, I felt his hand fly up again, slamming against my skin as he counted, following through with three more—admittedly, softer—spanks and reaching five. He laughed through his sixth one, which felt much more rough despite his laughter. I gritted my teeth, exhaling deeply, but shocked by the realization both Harley and I were still aroused, hard and rubbing against one another as the man twisted his hips up as he kept going with his slaps.

"Ten," he counted, stroking my hair with his other hand.

"Harley…" I breathed, burying my head into the sheets and biting my bottom lip now.

I felt a stinging tingle on my bottom, the formation of numbness but current pain lingering itself over my flesh. I continued biting my lip, not believing how this ache was coinciding with the immense delight of Harley's hardness rubbing against my own, our skin in such wonderful contact.

"Eleven," Harley voiced, right after another contact on my bottom from his energetic, firm palm. Then, after yet another, he added, "Twelve."

I closed my eyes, gripping the sheets with my palm as I kept pushing my forehead deeper and deeper into the mattress. Less than a second later, the final blow came, his palm roughly slapping onto my flesh, adding to the numb hurt of tingles flowing on my skin.

"Thirteen."

I gasped, catching my breath as I realized it was over. The man flipped me back over, pinning me down with his hands and forcing a deep, long kiss on my lips as he reached down, massaging my bruised bottom.

Harley licked his lips and kissed my forehead briefly. "Sorry, but it's tradition. And, from the feeling of this,"—he enveloped his hand around my covered erection—"you're not too negatively affected."

"I'm numb!" I shouted, shutting my eyes tightly.

"You liked it, you little kinky tart," he insisted, pulling me close and claiming my lips again. He twisted his hips down, grating our erections together in thrusting, driving motions.

"It hurts," I admitted, pursing my lips. "It stings."

Harley tucked his hand beneath the material of the underwear, encircling his hand around my hardness again and thrusting it against his palm with more speed than he had before. I knew he was desperate to make me forget about the pain that was burning on my flesh. I lifted my hips to reach his touch, scooting myself down so I was directly under him, keeping my eyes closed the entire time so I wouldn't have to deal with his lusty expression.

"You're wonderful, Max, just wonderful," he then gushed. "Taking a slap that hard and still proving to be aroused as well. Fuck, I want to be inside you right now."

I didn't protest, but I felt so confused by how his smacks could be that powerful, and yet, now, he lacked true anger in his words and movements. I threw my head back, feeling him place a hand behind me, brushing his hand up and down my bottom until he transferred his ministrations against my entrance, teasing me distantly. He lifted my legs up in a familiar way, then pulling my hips closer to his before he squirmed between my spread thighs and kissed me on the neck.

His hands concentrated on pampering my bottom for a long while, up until he slid off the undergarments, leaving them to dangle at my ankles and forcing me to shake them off myself.

"Harley," I whispered, placing a hand at the back of his neck to keep his mouth where it was. "I should be angry at you, for what you did."

Harley chuckled before he wet his hand, leading it down to his erection and moistening it in preparation. He did this a couple of times, sensing I probably wanted absolutely no pain at this point.

"That's because you're wonderful," he then said. "You like it when I bite and play rough, huh?"

I didn't answer. I just breathed in some air, gulping a bit as the man began pressing into my body, gripping my leg between his arms as he gasped in disbelief at the pressure we both felt. My muscles constricted in pain, but settled when Harley stroked my hardness between one of his hands and he leaned down, sliding his tongue between my lips and kissing me wantonly.

The man adjusted himself, leaning his weight on one arm and then keeping me up with the other beneath my knee. He thrust forward, fully penetrating my body and causing me to gasp in surprise at the burning pressure that spread me so uncomfortably. But, he kept rocking his hips, allowing my body to get used to the constriction, and like always, begin to enjoy the way his hardness felt in certain parts of me.

"Ughnn, Harley, you—!" I moaned out, clenching my fists around the jutting bones of his shoulders. I threw my legs fully around his hips, remembering how he enjoyed that and remembering how I liked how it felt, too.

Harley stilled my squirming, an attempt to get his mouth back on mine, and I happily obliged to cooperating. He drove himself into my body again, continuously thrusting in and out. He then grunted in a different sort of way, looking down at me in what I thought might have been frustration.

"Max," he started, closing his eyes for a moment, "I know it's your birthday and all, but I'm desperate for some of your faunlet-y movements, so do me a favor and stop this frigidity."

"What?" I demanded, but he kept pumping into my body, seeming very satisfied in my book. "I put my legs around you!" I argued, turning red from the verbal description.

"I know, I know," he dismissed, twisting his hips up and driving forward roughly. "But, more, darling, more."

"I'm not frigid," I seethed.

"Ooh, getting defensive are we?" he wondered. "Then prove you're not," he suggested next, stopping completely and just looming over me with a grin.

"Harley…" I complained, wanting him to move. The temperature in his body was high, and I noticed that the damp sweat was sticking our thighs together. I furrowed my brow, but soon realized he truly was not going to move on his own. I lifted my hips, forcing his hardness to sink into my body and making both of us gasp at the slow, slick entry.

"Mm, Max, I want you to try something," the man then whispered into my ear, kissing the side of my head. "Will you?"

"It's my birthday," I noted.

He teased me by sliding himself out of my body a bit, allowing his hips to twirl in the process. "It is, and this will definitely add to the thrill of your coming-of-age."

I blinked, both confused but too concentrated on the feeling of his teasing to truly care what he meant. I opened my mouth to tell him to knock it off and just move, but the man slid himself out of my body, pursing his lips as a sign of being unable to stand the removal.

"Harley, what are you doing?" I demanded, feeling him move away from me and causing my legs to drop from around his hips.

The man swooped his two powerful arms around me, flipping himself over and forcing me to come with him. He was now on his back with me straddling him, and he wiggled himself up, his back aligned with the headboard and his hands gripping my hips. I blushed at the feeling of him beneath me, and the desperation and need that ran through my body in a greedy way.

"Max," he said, smiling and urging me to rise up a bit to hover over his hard and still slick erection.

I stared in uncertainty as he guided my body around, eventually pushing my hips down and causing me to allow his erection into my body again. I gasped, a new sort of pressure filling me in a more exposed, accessible way. I shut my eyes, feeling the burn that I hadn't quite felt since my very first time. It was incredibly different this way; it felt like he was much deeper in my body and stretching me much more painfully.

Harley put a hand to my back, wanting me to lean forward, our chests fused. I rested my head on his shoulder, placing both my arms beneath his underarms and gaining a great ability to move on top of him. Harley moaned in delight, lolling his head back and gripping my hips again, trying to push me up so I would begin moving.

"Harley, why…?" I breathed out, my muscles clenching and causing him to moan in delight, despite my movements being unintentional.

"Because I want you to prove to me you're not some pathetic frigid boy," he answered, grinning. "Now, darling, go on."

The man lifted his hips, causing me to thrust back down and unexpectedly sending a shiver of delight all the way through my body. I closed my eyes, unsteady in my next move before he gripped me tightly in his arms. I did the same, clutching him forward and encouraging myself to rise my hips and push myself back down. Harley was pleased, obvious from his verbal shout and his sudden grip on my hardness. He moved his hand around, pumping me as my hips rose and fell, sliding his erection into my body.

"Ah, Max!" he muttered, smiling widely and assisting me in forcing himself to drive into my body, hard and fast, with much more intensity than I ever imagined.

I shut my eyes again, keeping them closed this time. I balanced myself on his shoulder and thrust, grinding our bodies into such commanding contact that I felt my own movements cause Harley's pumping around my hardness to speed-up. I couldn't help but whisper the man's name, my breathing hitched as I allowed myself to move up and down, over and over until my muscles tightened, and I leaned against the man, letting out my release into his hand. Harley pushed himself up as he stopped, and he climaxed soon after, yelling my name in an almost violent way before leaned backwards, exhausted.

I tried my best to catch my breath quickly, but it was no use. I was completely at loss of air, so completely drained and dazed. Harley adjusted himself so he could lie on his back completely, but I remained on top of him, still mounting his body and still having his hardness buried inside me.

Harley reached up, stroking the side of my stomach. "That, Maximus," he began, an already whimsical grin on his lips, "was an absolute delight. Well done, my sweet." He wiped his hand somewhere out of my view, seemingly just against the side of the bed.

Color rose to my face at his words, and I leaned my face against his chest, sighing heavily. "Harley…" I simply said.

The man rubbed my bottom and chuckled. "Are you okay here?" he wondered.

"I really shouldn't be!" I exclaimed. "Those spankings really did hurt."

"I know, and I apologize. But, any boy who can keep his arousal as I beat him up a bit is just my kind of lad. Not to mention you can always take it as hard as I can give, you little faunlet."

I blushed heavily, and I was glad my face was pressed against his chest so he couldn't see the color. The man wrapped his arms around me and kissed my forehead. I wasn't sure how well I had truly done, as Harley had always been the one on top before. Although I was already having trouble thinking about it without turning redder and redder, I had to admit it was much more tiring to have to do the work, although Harley was quite insistent on keeping his hips twisting and rising.

"When you were spanking me," I said, pursing my lips between the pause, "you were also touching me."

"It's a lovely combination of two very different things," the man finished off, sitting up and causing me to do the same, although still in his lap. He kissed me, then continued, "Happy birthday, my darling."

"Thanks," I shrugged out, "but I'm still unsure about the underwear."

Harley smiled and searched for the things in the tangled mess of sheets. Instead of finding them, he found the umbrella, so he took it in his hands, popping it open and looming the thing over our heads in a playful way. He then twirled it between his fingers, showing off the baton-like trick.

"I've told you that's bad luck," I warned him again, taking it from his hands and closing it. "We really don't need that, especially after dealing with Drew and his threats about telling May."

As I held the umbrella in my hands again, I noticed Harley had tied a yellow tag at the end of it, reading off: To Max, my adorable, sweet faunlet. I made a face, rolling my eyes. Still, I didn't have the heart to tear it off, as it was an extension to the gift, I thought.

"Well, May's busy wherever," Harley voiced, "so I doubt she has time to listen to the garbage that prep spews."

"Yeah, but what if, for some reason, she does listen? What will she do? She might tell my parents! Who knows what they'll do!" I sighed heavily, letting my shoulders sag.

"Don't worry, darling," he coaxed, lifting my chin and forcing me to look at him. "But, speaking of your parents, didn't they get you something?"

"Oh, yeah, the card!" I exclaimed. "I forgot all about that!" I climbed off the bed, rushing over to where I left my bag and digging out the card. I walked back over to the bed, sitting next to Harley with my legs crossed.

Harley rolled onto his stomach, leaning his head into his arms and sighing. "Whatever they wrote can't be better than what we just did," he teased, grinning lopsided.

I rolled my eyes and opened the envelope. Inside, there were two cards. I rose an eyebrow and opened the first one, reading aloud, "Dear Max: You're thirteen now, and that means two things—one, you've been traveling for three years, and two, you're now considered a teenager. You've always been such a strong and independent son, and we are very proud of you. I hope you spend your birthday doing something you love. Love always, Mom and Dad."

"Something you love?" the man repeated. "Hmm…!"

"Be quiet," I demanded, setting the card down and mulling over the words. "It's nice hearing a congratulations without mentions of May," I then noted.

Harley laughed, but then let his eyes drop to the other card in the envelope. "What's that other card?" he asked.

I took it out and scanned the card. Immediately, I recognized the handwriting. It was from May. I gaped a couple of times, unsure whether or not I should read this one out loud. I looked over at Harley, and I knew my expression was enough to reveal everything. Sure enough, the man's brow furrowed, and he seemed to instantly become tense and possessive.

"Um," I stuttered, letting my eyes narrow as I was unable to get myself to say anything intelligent.

I began reading the card myself, her thin, girlie handwriting saying:

Max, I know the two of us haven't talked in quite sometime, but I hope you know that I still love and care about you. You're my brother—my only one at that—and I feel that the two of us still share a deep and strong connection that no one can take away. I can't believe you're thirteen, as you always seemed wise beyond your years. I hope you are doing well in Johto, and perhaps you have met some friends along the way, like we always used to with Ash and Brock. I'm doing fine myself, but I truly just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, and if you have a chance, please write or call me. I miss you. I hope you feel the same about me.

- May

I put the letter down and pursed my lips, not wanting my uneasy breathing to be revealed. Although my eyes weren't focused, I felt Harley take the card, reading it for himself rather quickly. When he was done, he threw the letter down, making a loud grunt of disapproval. If he was going to say anything negative, I didn't want to hear it, and I was ready to chide him if he did.

But, instead, he said, "That was considerate of her, I suppose." He shrugged.

"Yeah," I answered, "it was, actually." I picked up the cards and replaced them in the envelope, looking up to him in slight confusion.

What was I supposed to do now? This was the first time May had wrote me anything since we stopped talking. I hadn't even prepared myself for the possibility she'd acknowledge my birthday, as she never had in the past, and not because she was cruel, but because she probably guessed I didn't want to hear from her. But, now, when I was just starting to work up the courage to contact her, she contacted me.

I sighed, trying to flatten out the feeling that was tugging at me. I almost felt like crying, to be honest. So many thoughts and emotions were resurfacing: the devotion I used to have to my sister, the two of us always being together, the way we would always rely on each other. What had happened to all of that? How did my sister and I get to where we were now?

"Max," Harley called out, giving me a concerned look.

I looked up at him again with the same puzzled expression. "Harley, what am I supposed to do?"

The man shrugged. "It's up to you, darling," he said, lying back and putting his arms behind his head.

My sister used to make me so happy, and it never occurred to me that one day we'd stop speaking to each other. The uncomfortable strain between us had lasted almost three years, and in the back of my mind, it had always bothered me. There were some times when I wasn't even sure I would be able to handle how saddened the whole situation made me. But, it was Harley who had made me feel better. Being with him completely erased my loneliness, and with him, I had companionship… and more. I had a feeling that I could survive the problems with May now that Harley was with me. Was that healthy to always be on bad terms with someone though? And, what if, for some reason, Harley and I decided to stop traveling together? Would the pain of May resurface?

"I don't even know if I want to get in touch with her anymore," I griped, throwing the envelope on the floor in a haste. "I don't even think about her that much anymore."

"Just a few days ago at the Center—when we made PokéBlock—you were nearly in tears over the situation," Harley pointed out, and I had to say, I was surprised he acknowledged this.

"I know," I admitted. "And, you told me that I was brave, and I could be brave enough to mend things up. But, now—now that it might actually be happening—it's almost like I don't even care anymore! Harley… I have you."

Something in the man softened, and he was able to smile fully. "Indeed you do," he assured, moving the mess of the tissue paper, the bag, the umbrella and the underwear all to the nightstand.

"Ugh, I have no idea what to do, Harley!" I shouted, putting my hands to my head. "I'm so lost!"

Harley put a hand on my shoulder and leaned in sideways. "You know how I feel about her, Max," the man admitted in a sigh.

"But, I want you to tell me what to do, Harley," I repeated, "because I have no idea!"

"Max," the man said, his tone changing, "exactly what do you miss about your sister?"

"Everything," I said, "but a lot of it has lessened since I started hanging around you." I shrugged, not wanting to babble on and on about it.

Harley was quiet now, which was sort of a first when I really thought about it. I bit my lip, unsure what to say myself, but feeling a weird discomfort between the man and I. I think he wanted to mention something to me, but was either hesitant or unsure how to phrase it. I rose an eyebrow, urging him to speak.

The man rolled his eyes. "Max, would you ever fuck your sister?"

My eyes widened, and I gaped widely. "Harley!" I screamed, giving him an absolutely shocked and horrified look. "What is your problem! Why would you ask me something like that?"

"It's a serious question, Max," the man said, unnerved by my shout. "You and your sister were awfully close, and it's only natural of me to wonder if you two might've been that close."

"Did Drew put that in your head?" I demanded, glaring at him.

"I thought about it before, I must admit," he revealed, "but, Drew did mention something."

"She's my sister," I grunted. "What's wrong with you?"

Harley began laughing now, and I sensed true amusement in it. "Drew spouted something about you kissing May for comfort or something like that."

"Huh?" I voiced, confused. "Harley, we're siblings! It didn't mean that. I've never been with anyone before you—I never even kissed anyone before. Nobody. Not a girl, not a guy, no one!"

Harley rolled his eyes again. "I know," the man confirmed.

"Then why'd you ask that?"

"Because she's a cretin, and who knows what kind of spell she put you under," he spewed.

"All this coming from the man who pressured me into getting back in touch with her in the first place," I mumbled.

"Well, what good will it do, Max? You just said you have me, so what on earth do you need her for?"

"To be my sister, I guess," I told him. I readjusted my position, sitting on my knees and moving in front of the man. "I don't know what I'm going to do about telling her about us," I then admitted.

Harley put both of his hands on my shoulders. "Don't let her ruin it, Max," he stated, sounding like a warning. "You've been happy lately, and I prefer happy Max over snotty, depressed Max." He planted a kiss on my lips, firm and hard.

"Are you jealous of her?" I asked, unable to help it. "Because, you have no reason to be. She's just my sister—I don't share the same kind of things with her that, um, we share, Harley."

"I know that," the man said. "But, Max, the way you fucking talk about her sometimes irritates me."

He hadn't quite answered the question, and I imagined that yes, he was quite jealous of May, even though I wasn't even on good terms with her. This disturbed me. What if I were to actually call or write to May? Would Harley completely freak out on me? But, the idea that he actually thought I might've wanted May that way was boggling. She was my sister, and the two of us shared everything siblings should. I would admit though, I had always noticed rather intimate things about May, but was that really wrong? Her smell, her clothing and stuff—what was wrong with noticing that? It wasn't as if the two of us had ever done anything "abnormal" together.

However, unlike many things, the thought of maybe being with May in a much more intimate way… well, it didn't scare me all that much. It was more of Harley's acknowledgment of it that startled me, but other than that, there was something very familiar and comforting in the thought of our relationship being about companionship and—

—stop thinking, I told myself.

Disturbed by my realizations, I shook away my thoughts and just said, "Well, I don't know what I'm going to do right now, so I'm going to take your advice from before and just not worry about what's going on tomorrow or two minutes from now or in an hour."

"Good!" Harley exclaimed. "Now let's try and enjoy your birthday and stop fighting, mmkay?"

"I don't want to do anything though," I admitted. "I'm not in the mood to go out."

"Neither am I, so that's all the more reason I can keep you locked up in here, all to myself," he whispered, pulling me towards him and into his embrace. "But, it's obligatory for me to ask if there's anything my darling requests as a birthday wish."

I smiled, truly considering whether or not I wanted anything. The weird thing was, I knew that whatever I said—no matter how crazy—Harley would probably follow through. He was almost at my beck and call, but I had no desire to use him that way; I wasn't malicious enough.

"Hmm," I mused, making a mock thinking face. "This could be fun," I admitted.

Harley snickered and forced me into a powerful kiss. "We could fuck again," he told me through a grin. "Just a suggestion."

"I'm pretty sure I can think of something besides that," I told him.

Harley rolled his eyes, mockingly suggesting, "Well, then, think."

"I want to talk."

"Talk!" the man echoed. "What fun is that?"

"It might not be fun, but maybe we'll learn something about each other," I said. "I always wanted to ask you where you lived in Slateport City," I then admitted.

Harley gave a grin, obviously some sort of pride forming. "Well, you've been there," he started, "so do you remember the luscious beaches they had? It's not that different from here."

"Yeah, I remember," I replied.

"I live in one of the many beach houses there," he revealed jovially. "It was actually my father's, but when he kicked the bucket, I decided I wanted to live there. It's quite the beauty, and being taken care of my a cleaning lady so it stays spick and span."

"I had a feeling that was going to be your answer," I told him. "So, you have access to your own private beach, I suppose?"

"Most definitely." He grinned, flashing his teeth and all. "Maybe I can show it to you."

I blinked. "Really?" I wondered.

"Yes," he said with a nod. "You know, darling, the two of us have quite some time before you have your final challenge at the Blackthorn City Gym, and I can imagine that sticking around Johto for all those weeks would be quite boring."

I started to smile. "You want me to come back with you to Slateport?"

Harley coughed in a silly way, a deliberate distraction for himself. "Yes, Max," he confirmed. "It's quite big, and I'm sure you'll enjoy being able to swim whenever the fuck you want. And, I'll enjoy you swimming."

I scoffed. "That doesn't sound like it will benefit my training though," I complained. "Clair is a really strong trainer, and if I go all the way to Hoenn with you until she returns to her Gym then I have to make it worthwhile."

"We will train, of course, of course," he said, waving his hands around. "But, we can also relax and you will have the honor of spending time in Harley's household."

"How would we get there?" I then asked. "And, how long would it take, more importantly?"

"We can buy tickets here and take a boat," he explained, "and it should only be a couple of days." He ran his hands through my hair, trying to get me to answer with a definite yes.

"It sounds fun," I admitted, "but I'm a bit worried about who might be lingering there. I'm sure you know a lot of people."

"A lot of people as in the ones I fucked?" he clarified for me. "Well, maybe, but don't let that stop you from coming with me. Think of the fun, darling!"

"H-has anyone else stayed there with you?" I wondered in a soft tone.

"No, actually," the man answered right off the bat. "I mean, I'll be honest, there have been men of the sort who have stepped foot there, but none whom I let shack up with me, if that's what you're worried about."

"Hm," I voiced.

Harley enticed me, trailing a hand down my body and to my hip where he massaged casually. "If you say yes, darling," he began, kissing my neck and dipping me back in his arms, "I'll order you one hell of an ice cream sundae right here and now."

"Wouldn't you do that for me anyway since it's my birthday?" I asked, allowing him to kiss my shoulder blade and then lightly bite my neck.

"Perhaps," he said. "However, we can do more than just eat it. We can have a bit of fun with the dessert, if you know what I mean, sweet thing."

I furrowed my brow. "That would be weird," I stated. "And, sort of unoriginal. Doesn't everyone do that?"

Harley began laughing into my shoulder. "Who cares? It will be fun, and it's an excellent way to celebrate your birthday. Besides, it's how we met!"

"I think I'm going to have to pass on this, Harley," I rejected, giving him a considerate look to appease him. "It's too much trouble."

"No, it's not!" he argued, pushing me off him rather roughly and crawling his way over to the other side of the bed so he could reach the phone. He picked it up, asked for room service and very quickly demanded they bring up some sort of ice cream sundae concoction. He slammed down the phone when he was done, turning to grin at me happily. "See."

I rolled my eyes, but smiled through it. "Again, this doesn't really benefit me." I relaxed, lying on my back comfortably and getting under the sheets to cover myself, fearing I had been naked and exposed too long.

"Oh, will you stop saying that, you little faunlet?" he ordered, following suit and getting under the sheets. He dragged me to his side with a strong grip of his arm, forcing me to press against his chest. "You enjoy every bit of ravishment I dote on you."

I reached up, feeling Harley's hair for the first time in a while. I remembered when I had pulled it during our night outside and how much he seemed to get a kick out of that. Harley was into so many odd things, and I wasn't sure what else there was that he hadn't admitted. He liked to bite me, spank me, have his hair pulled, be dominated in some sort of way, and now he insisted we try something with ice cream.

"What else do you like to do, Harley?" I wondered. "You are really into some kinky—as you put it—stuff, but I'm a little worried what else there might be."

"Nothing too extreme," he guaranteed. "But, if you want to know the wildest thing, I can tell you. Although, to be honest, we sort of already experimented with the mix."

"Wildest?" I repeated, furrowing my brow. "Um, I'm sort of scared what that might be."

"Well," he started, rubbing my back, "I do like it when instead of just the occasional bites and hair pulls aren't so occasional, you know? And, I like maybe double the power."

I made a puzzled face. "I don't get it," I admitted.

"I like when it's rough the entire time, Maximus," he bluntly put it. "And, I mean rough. Bruises for evidence and all."

I scrunched up my face in dissatisfaction, finding that confession really disturbing. Did he really want to be beaten and to inflict the pain in return? I knew it was a kink, more of the fantasy orientated variety, and he'd probably never want to truly beat the living daylight's out of someone with a true, malicious and vicious intention, but it was still scary. Instead of saying anything too negative though, I just shrugged my shoulders and pointed out:

"And, yet, you don't like voyeurism."

"Why?" he wondered. "Do you? Because I have nothing against it, it's just not my thing, but if you are interested I might be able to broaden my horizons."

"That's not what I meant," I defended. "I just meant that out of everything you like, you don't like that." I shook my head in disbelief.

"If you want," Harley said, "you can hit me."

I scoffed again. "I don't want to hurt you," I very firmly stated. "It bothers me that you'd even want to hurt me, even if it's just a kink."

"It's not the same as if I were some bully," Harley then explained. "Certain pain is just—oh, how should I put this?—rather arousing, I suppose."

"Well, I guess there is something tingly about it," I admitted, but I felt so lame doing so. "I mean, I don't like it when I fall down and get scraped, and I never have enjoyed any sort of pain I've been in before. But, when you bit me while, well, you know, it was exciting. I guess." I shrugged.

"See," he voiced satisfactorily, "it's hard to explain, yes, but, damn, it's a delight. So, will you hit me sometime? Unexpectedly, I'd prefer."

"I don't know," I answered, still stroking his hair.

Harley chuckled and kissed the hand I was using to comb through his hair. "The Maximus I met in Goldenrod City would never be able to hold a conversation about this sort of thing as long as you have, my dear."

"Drew told me that if I've done it, I should have no problem talking about it," I said with a shrug. "I think he's right on some level. I'm more comfortable talking about it with you though, not him."

"Pfft, Drew's words of wisdom are pretty pathetic," he droned. "If you ask me, I think he wanted in on dirty little descriptions of how far I've buried my cock in your tight, little ass." He smiled wickedly, continuing to play with my hand by squeezing and kissing it.

"Harley," I complained, still uncomfortable when he put it that way. "I think Drew would've rather died."

"Then why'd he prod into it so badly, huh?" Harley questioned. "Maybe he's a fag, too."

"I doubt it," I quickly said. "I couldn't see him wanting anything to do with men."

"I'd fuck him."

"No you wouldn't!" I shouted. "You hate him!"

Harley shrugged. "Maybe so, but he might be worth the trouble for that ass of his."

I glared at Harley now, very offended. The man laughed, but quickly patted my back to assure me he was joking (at least on some level, I assumed). He then kissed my nose, keeping close to my face as he asked:

"Would you fuck him?"

"No," I replied firmly. "He's gross and weird, and I can't even imagine something like that with him."

Harley rose both his eyebrows. "Who would you shag if I wasn't around then? We've already ruled out our sister, apparently."

"I don't know, Harley," I said, slightly frustrated. I had told him time and time again that I was never really attracted to anyone in my life besides him. What more did he want?

"What about Lance? You've met him, so what did you think?"

"Nothing," I assured. "He was a friend. The end!"

"Christ," the man muttered, pretty surprised. "I should take you to a prostitute just for experimentation."

"I hope you're not serious," I droned.

"Of course I'm not," he then confessed. "I don't want a single person touching you, male or female. I'd have to kill them. And then maybe you, too. You're mine, Max, got it?"

"I think," I said, pretty bewildered.

Just then, there was a knock at the door, obviously from the room service attendant. Harley sighed in an annoyance to have to get up, but eventually did so anyway, grabbing his robe and tying it properly. Out of my sight, I heard him answer the door, saying something to the attendant and dismissing them promptly. He came back in the room, holding a tray with a large bowl of vanilla ice cream, drenched in a hardened shell of chocolate syrup. He was also holding a yellow envelope.

He sat down on the bed, placing the tray down next to him and holding up the envelope with a raised brow. "This," he said, "is apparently for you."

"Huh?" I voiced, taking it in my hands and looking at it front and back. "What is it?"

Harley shrugged. "The man said it was dropped off this morning," he explained. "I bet I know who sent it though."

My expression flattened. "Oh," I then muttered, tearing open the sealed paper and taking out what was a letter. I looked at it for a moment, skimming here and there, before confirming, "Yeah, it's from Drew."

"Splendid," the man grunted. "Care to share his fine words with me?"

I was a bit nervous to read the letter out loud, but figured I was going to show it to the man anyway. So, I cleared my throat and nodded towards Harley, revealing that I would indeed read it out to him.

"Max: I know you probably don't want to hear from me, and that's why I chose to write a letter instead. First off, happy birthday—I hope you spend your day well. Secondly, now that you're considered a teenager, I think you ought to be taking it upon yourself to be making decisions that benefit your well-being." I paused, raising an eyebrow.

"How the fuck did he even know where we're staying?" Harley then demanded.

"I suppose he knew you'd be at the biggest hotel in the city." I shrugged. "Anyway: Just because you're a teenager doesn't mean you should be in a sexual relationship, a sexual relationship with a man twice your age. Being with Harley is not healthy, and I suggest you get away from him. Men like him only care about themselves, and what you have to offer is purely benefiting himself."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Harley grunted, folding his arms.

"When I was with your sister, she spoke wonders of you. She loves you dearly and the strain between you two always hurt her. Get in contact with her, mend the past, and please be honest about what Harley and you have done—or, more honestly, what Harley has done to you—because I'm sure you'll feel better once it's done and over. If you need anything, you know where I'm staying. Take care."

Harley ripped the paper from my hand and read some parts over himself. When he was through, he let out another annoyed grunt and crumpled it up, enraged. "That fucker!" he shouted, crumpling the envelope, too. "What the fuck does he know?"

I shrugged again. "He must really think the situation is bad."

Harley made some sort of snarl, absolutely irritated. "I want to kill him."

"I thought you wanted to sleep with him."

"Never mind that anymore," the man dismissed. He then looked at me, extending his arm out and urging me to come closer to him. "No one is taking my Maximus away. I'll have to bloody shoot them if they do."

I rolled my eyes at the man's distress. "I think he's just trying to make it more serious than it is," I admitted. "I mean, honestly, what am I to him? Why should he care?"

"Maybe he's trying to impress May and win her back," Harley said, pushing against me until he forced me down on my back, beneath him. "Don't let it bother you, darling."

"Me?" I wondered. "I should be telling you the same thing. You're more concerned with it than I am."

"If I didn't have you around, Maximus," the man said, "then who would I have to watch prance around in his faunlet-y way and witness dress up in his faunlet-y undies, hmm?"

"I'm pretty sure you could survive. You did before I came around."

"That's because I had no idea such a thing existed! You've opened my eyes, dear, and I'm positive you're the only one who can keep up with me."

"Let's just get our mind off it, okay?" I told him.

I was sure Harley wanted to rant some more, but he repressed it. Seemingly to seethe in annoyance now, I craned my neck and kissed him on the mouth, trying to make him feel better. It was sort of ironic that he was more affected by the letter than myself, but it was typical of him to be overdramatic, I supposed. However, he began to relax against my liplock, just a bit taken back when I slipped my tongue into his mouth and pulled him down, closer to me.

I was unnerved by my persistence. Harley and I had done this so many times that I couldn't help become somewhat used to it. It was still awkward at times—and I knew that with what he was planning to do with that ice cream it was about it get very odd—but it was still Harley, who I had grown used to, and perhaps, trust. Drew could try and convince me it was unhealthy, but how could it be? How could being with someone this way, in a way that made me feel so alive, be wrong?

My heart still fluttered and sank at the memory of the umbrella he gave me. It was so personal and sweet, a memento of when we had met up in Goldenrod City. I thought about it now, thought about what would've happened had I never agreed to eat lunch with Harley that day, or if I hadn't chosen to visit him at his hotel the next morning. What would I be doing now, without him? What would he be doing? I wouldn't have had half as much fun and wouldn't have gotten anywhere quite as quickly.

I couldn't explain the emotions that were running through me now, either awakened or brought to life by the present he had given me. The tug in my heart was unlike anything I had ever felt, so personal and deep that I couldn't even analyze it. All I knew was that kissing him and being close to him now were comforting the craze, and it felt like by coinciding, everything was perfect.

"Harley," I breathed, looking at him seriously, "thank you for the presents." I might've already thanked him, but I wanted to say it again. I wanted to say everything to him that made sense to me and related to the emotions that were burning up inside my mind and heart.

"You're welcome, my sweet," he said back to me. "Now, let's have a little fun." He sat up, sliding the tray over to us and picking up one of the spoons from beside the bowl. He scooped up as much ice cream as the utensil could hold. Instead of dropping it on me, like I expected, he lingered it around my mouth, urging me to eat it.

I made a face, sensing how cold it was, but reached forward, taking it in my mouth and licking the spoon clean. The temperature made my entire body shiver and he took another scoop, eating it himself. He smiled at me, licking his lips and stroking my shoulder blade. The man then prepared another spoonful and instantly dropped it on my chest. Goose bumps swept across my skin, and I jerked my legs up in a terrible shock.

"It's cold!" I exclaimed.

Harley said nothing, but smiled. He bent down, extending his tongue out and making long, warm swipes across my skin, licking up the ice cream and being sure to press powerfully against my skin. I shivered even more, and I felt his hand slide down my stomach, touching my naked body to trap me into a wild lust.

The man moved up, now using his fingers in ministrations between my legs as he kissed me fully, moaning loudly into my mouth. I pressed him against me with a single arm, using my other hand to brush through his hair. I did not normally touch him this much, but something foreign was washing through me, wanting to respond with a touch for every touch he gave me.

The man reached down with the spoon, filling it with more of the sundae—and this time, with a lot of chocolate syrup—and very slowly dripped it down onto my shoulder. I lolled my head back, unable to stand the mixture of the hot syrup and the freezing cold ice cream. Harley immediately lapped his tongue at it, ensuring it wouldn't slide down my skin. All the meanwhile, his hand fondled me and he adjusted himself properly pressing his arousal into mine and causing me to softly moan.

Harley grinned as he let some of the ice cream pour onto his own shoulder. He leaned down, jutting out his shoulder blade and pressing it against my mouth. I thought about the teasing way he stroked his tongue along my skin and emulated it to the best of my ability. I licked up the vanilla flavor, feeling it melt in my mouth before I swallowed it. The man was about to move away, but I kissed his chin, continuing to lick around his face until I reached his mouth, kissing him properly. He moaned in delight, spreading my legs with his arms and forcing me to hold them up, bent.

"Ah, my darling Max," he murmured, pumping my erection in his hand and pressing himself up against my thigh to thrill himself. He handed me the spoon now, insisting, "Do as you please, my faunlet."

Shakily, I dipped the spoon into the melting ice cream, scooping up the gunk and spilling some as I traveled it back between us. Harley kept moving, grating our bodies as he spit in his hand and prepared himself to penetrate me. I ended up spilling the ice cream on myself, most of it landing on my stomach, and though it was an accident, I was sure Harley was going to believe I did it on purpose.

Sure enough, he laughed, but he then swiped his hand across my stomach and then offered his soaked hand to my mouth. I licked it off, going between his fingers with my tongue and remembering how he had done this with my release before. Pleased, Harley continued with his movements, dampening his hand again, but this time, teasing me absurdly by pressing his wet fingers into my entrance, quick and rather harshly.

I gasped at the invading digits, squirming away for a moment before remembering that I just needed to relax. I busied myself by taking some more ice cream from the bowl, dripping it on Harley's upper-arm. I saw goose bumps developed all down his arm, and I rose slowly, licking the melting trail off his flesh until I reached his shoulder. Harley smiled pleasantly, then gripped my thighs with his arms, pushing them up and moving forward. I shut my eyes, feeling the tip of his hardness press into me. He stroked my erection as he slid in fully, causing me to both moan, and later, gasp.

Harley took the spoon from me, moving in and out of my body very slowly, and practically shoveled the ice cream onto the utensil, dumping it all on my neck and getting a lot of it on the pillow beneath me. He gripped my legs hard, pulling them around his hips and managing to collide our chests so he could reach my shoulder and lap his warm, wet tongue on my flesh to clean up the ice cream. At this point, he began thrusting into me at a much speedier pace, pushing into my body and making my breathing more uneven than it already was.

"Harley!" I shouted, throwing my head back as I felt his tongue reach behind my ear.

He bit my earlobe rather roughly, then flipped his hair in front of my face, a clear signal that he wanted me to pull the strains. I was hesitant, but eventually reached up, tugging slowly before he grunted in impatience, causing me to yank. Instead of grunting in pain, he laughed, continuing to drive into me, hard and fast. I pulled again and then took the spoon, managing to drip quite a bit on Harley's arms.

Harley leaned in, pressing his face into my neck and moaning several combinations of curses, pet names and lusty phrases. I reached for the entire bowl now, knowing there was only a bit of melted ice cream left. I tilted the bowl, forcing the rest of the ice cream to fall onto me. Between stifled moans and pants, the man laughed, lapping up the rest of the mess, clamping his lips around my neck and sucking the very last essence of the dessert away. I turned my head, forcing his lips on mine before I rocked my hips against his thrusts, feeling him twist his own to add to the pleasure.

The tightness in my muscles developed, and I felt myself ready to reach my climax. I matched Harley's thrusts with powerful upward pushes of my hips, and I felt the worn-out pressure in my muscles reach its maximum, forcing me to let out my release onto Harley's stomach. Harley's arms tightened around my thighs, pressing hard as he came, too, shouting out my name in a lusty haze. We both quivered in some sort of aftershock, and he rolled off me, pulling out and giving a very loud sigh.

I immediately felt cold, being away from Harley so suddenly. I scooted my way towards, him, pressing my chin against his chest. Harley wrapped a single arm around me, pulling me close. He kissed my forehead and then patted my bottom roughly.

"Now that was fun," he finally said after catching his breath.

"I feel sticky," I admitted, feeling up and down my shoulder.

"Me, too," the man laughed. "But, it was worth it. God, Max, I've never been so impressed with a boy your age."

I smiled, then turned to look at the small digital clock. "It's already so late in the afternoon," I noted. "Maybe we should go somewhere so we don't feel like total bums. I haven't even let out of my Pokémon out today. That's not healthy for them."

Harley patted my head now. "Don't worry, we'll have plenty of time for battling and the like when we get to Slateport."

"So, you are serious about that?" I wondered, cocking my head.

"Absolutely," he assured. He gently moved me away, grabbing the tray from the bed and throwing it on the ground. He then reached for his bag near the dresser and took out his lighter and pack of cigarettes. He lit one up as he returned to the bed, exhaling deeply just as he plopped himself down. "I think I'm going to get tickets for a ship tomorrow morning."

I sat up, watching as the man flipped the pillow over that had ice cream plastered all over it. "Why do you live at a beach house? Do you even swim?"

"From time to time," he replied, blowing some smoke through his nostrils. "I think, Max, when we get to Slateport I am going to buy you a huge collection of tight, colorful bathing suits that I will force you to swim in everyday. We'll assign a color for each day of the week."

"Will there be a point to it?" I asked, rubbing my sticky shoulder in a haste.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "It's part of staying in my household; you'll have to follow the rules, and that's one of them, okay?"

"What else?" I droned. "I might not want to come back to Slateport with you after all."

Harley laughed, continuing to smoke casually. "I think I'm going to bake you something, Max. If you remember—which you better!—I make wonderful treats, especially cookies."

"Yeah, I remember," I said. "But, to be honest, I don't really like cookies that much."

"Then what does Maximus want me to bake him?" he asked, extending his arm and lifting my chin.

"You decide," I told him. "I am curious to know what your baking tastes like. And, I'll be sure to be considerate, since I know how sensitive you are about your bake goods."

"Your sister had no idea what she was talking about," he seethed. "You'll see that I make the best fucking snacks on this earth, oh yes, you will!" Although his cigarette wasn't done, he extinguished the rest of it on the ashtray.

"You know, Harley, I've never had a birthday like this."

"Well, I would hope," the man retorted, raising his eyebrows. "Now, darling, are you up for a shower?"

"I thought you didn't like showers," I noted.

"Well, right now I'm not really up for soaking in ice cream gunk," he replied. He grabbed my hand, lifting me off the bed. "Come on, darling. I think I'll have quite the fun time washing your hair for you."

xxxxx

-Harley-

There were very few days that I could call perfect. Very few. It was always something within those long twenty-four hours that irritated me. Now, to be completely honest, yesterday had contained one or two negatives, such as the fact May decided to give a birthday card to Max, and then later, Drew thought it was of best interest to write him a pathetic letter; however, I was willing to call it perfect. Max's birthday had been one splendid celebration, choke-full of adorable moments between Max and I, and even better, full of shagging!

Having fallen asleep with my hair wet, it remained somewhat damp even now in the early morning. We had gone to bed early, but I supposed it was inevitable, as I had tired the poor boy out, I was sure. After our delightful little shower, Max and I had returned to bed, and I subsequently went through with ravishing the boy three more times despite our newfound cleanliness. Three. Count 'em! I swear, it was like some amazing miracle, Max and I. I had fucked him more than I ever did anyone else, and I still wasn't tired of him. I had a strong feeling I never would be either. How could I? He was impeccable!

Well, the day had to end sometime, much to my sadness. And now, early in the morning—painfully early thanks to falling asleep before eight o'clock—I was up and about, pacing around the hotel lobby and waiting for the tourist center to open at six o'clock sharp. I would normally never be waiting for a goddamn tourist center to open, but on this occasion, I had to if I wanted to get tickets on a ship back to Slateport City. I was alone, since Max was still in the hotel room, where I had left him a loving little note just in case he awoke.

I had to admit, Max agreeing to come back to Slateport with me was a surprise. I thought for sure he'd reject me, claiming I was trying to mess up his training or something lame like that. He had while until Clair decided to get her ass back to her Gym, so the time was all ours, I thought. It wasn't as big a deal as I thought it was going to be either. I thought the actual realization the boy was coming back to my hometown with me would eventually become uncomfortable, but it hadn't yet. It was true I didn't have the best reputation there, but Max shouldn't have been surprised if anything too, too shocking was revealed about moi, although truthfully I couldn't think of anything that would really piss the boy off. After all, he managed to get over what Drew had to say.

That little fucking prep. I truly hated that kid now. Who the hell did he think he was, telling my Max to get away from me? I had done nothing to harm my faunlet. All I had done was open Max up to what a kid like him was intended to do anyway! I chuckled cruelly at my selfish thought, knowing full well that statements like that were only feeding into what Drew saw me as: a self-seeking, perverted pedophile.

As the dumb little center finally opened and prepared itself for the day, I made it a point to be the very first customer. I presented myself to the front desk, immediately explaining that I wanted two tickets for whatever ship was stopping by Slateport City. The man behind the counter said there were two ships leaving this afternoon, one which was a luxury cruise of the sort, and which would take about a day and a half to arrive at Slateport. The second option was a smaller ship, not very cruise-y but fine enough to allow each passenger a room and would take three days to get to Slateport. The option was finely obvious, I thought, so I bought two tickets for the cruise and went on my merry way back to the hotel room.

As I walked away, I examined the tickets. The ship was called the W.T. East, which sounded pretty lame to me. However, the man had also given me a pamphlet for the cruise and everything in there looked absolutely divine. Max and I were destined to have a wonderful time, that was for sure. I couldn't wait to get onboard at—according to the wonderful set of tickets—10 a.m. today. On my way to the elevator, I dropped by the front desk, telling them I would checking out earlier than expected.

When I arrived back in the room, I instantly noticed all the lights were turned on, a clear sign Max was awake now. I searched around the living room, not finding him, so I made my way into the bedroom, where I spotted him sitting on the floor with his Kirlia, feeding the creature that organic food.

"Ah, good morning, darling!" I addressed, sauntering over to him. I was sad to see that he was fully dressed and groomed for the day, meaning my chances of just jumping on him and having a morning like yesterday were slim.

"Morning," the boy said, getting up and letting Kirlia eat peacefully.

I presented the tickets to Max as he walked over to me, planting them smack into his eyesight. Startled, he jerked backwards until he realized what I had was harmless. He took the tickets, examining the information and then looked up at me, raising an eyebrow.

"So soon," he said. "How'd you manage to get tickets for today?"

"Olivine City and Slateport are both seaside towns, darling. I imagine they have ships going to and from quite often." I stroked the boy's cheek, running a hand through his hair after. "Are you excited?"

The boy smiled. "Yeah, actually," he revealed. "It's been a while since I've been there, and I'm really looking forward to seeing your home."

"Good," I said, putting the tickets on the table after the boy handed them back to me. "We're going to have fun, Max. Oh, yes, we will." I bent down, kissing him on the head.

"So, what are we going to do until then?" the boy inquired. "Do you want to battle?"

"Battle?" I echoed. "I just won a Contest. I don't think I need to train for anything—it's obvious I'm already doing fantastic." I grinned as I looped an arm around the boy's waist, pulling him towards me as I bent down slightly.

"Oh, please, Harley," the boy grunted, rolling his eyes. "I will beat you this time!"

I scoffed, knowing this was Max's way of rallying me up so I would indeed battle him. Part of it was working, but the more I kept the boy pressed against me, the more I wanted to simply shag the boy silly aside from everything else. I stamped a kiss on Max's shoulder and neck, faintly teasing him by rubbing up and down his back, just above his adorable ass. When my hand reached the destination fully, I pinched him, causing the boy to jump.

"Harley," he breathed, letting his head loll to the right for a second, "I'm thirteen now. I'm getting too old for this."

I began laughing, pressing my face into the boy's shoulder. "That's the poorest excuse I've ever heard," I told him. "You're at your sexual peak, boy. You should be taking up every opportunity!"

Max pushed me away gently. "Well, I'm hungry, and I want to battle," he insisted. "I'm sure whatever it is you want to do can wait for when we're on the ship. I doubt there's anything else to do."

Now I laughed even harder. "Oh, Maximus!" I exclaimed through my snickers. "Somehow, though, I think I always knew you'd say something along those lines, you little tart."

Max tugged at my arm. "Let's hurry," he said, beginning to gather up his stuff. I watched as he put away the umbrella very neatly, but then stuff the pair of underwear deep into the backpack, uncaring.

I decided that when we were on the ship—and, in Max's words, there being nothing else to do—I would have to persuade Max into wearing those little undies for at least an hour. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to handle that without jumping on the boy and having my way with him, but I'd try. Having him prance around in those for a while was all I needed to be a relatively happy man.

Smiling at the thought, I quickly packed all my stuff, too, and was ready to go in less than a minute. Max promptly returned Kirlia, and followed me out of the room. The two of us made our way out of the hotel after riding the elevator, and were greeted by the bright and burning sun outside. I was actually glad to be leaving Olivine City, because although it had only been a couple of days, I was already becoming bored. I was looking forward to returning to Slateport City with Max.

After a couple of minutes of walking, Max tugged on my arm again, but this time, so I would stop walking. "Let's eat first," Max suggested, pointing towards a cozy little restaurant on the docks that advertised breakfast.

"Fine," I agreed, walking over to an empty table, already prepared with menus, silverware, and the like. I took a seat, crossing my legs and watching Max take a seat as well. "You know, I really doubt there's anything here worth licking off your chest and neck."

Max's complexion shifted instantly to red. "You know, that wasn't exactly something people just think of right off the top of their head. I have a feeling you might've done that with someone else." He crossed his arms, annoyed.

I pursed my lips, amused by his comment. I wasn't really sure whether or not he was saying it to be a prick or if the issue sincerely bothered him. In either case, I decided to confess by saying, "Believe me, they didn't mean half as much to me as you do, darling."

Max gave me a very aggressive look. "I guess that's a yes then," he grunted.

"Don't worry about it," I coaxed. "Do you think any of them were nearly as delightful as you? Max, must I remind you that you're the only faunlet I've ever had the pleasure of meeting?"

"I'm sure if—"

The waitress approached us, interrupting the boy instantly. She had a horribly phony smile printed on her young and dumb-looking face. She held a small notepad and pencil, ready to take our order. Max went first, ordering pancakes and orange juice, which I happened to believe was a disgusting combination, while I just ordered a side of toast and a cup of coffee. Afterwards, the waitress took the menus and left us, and Max continued to give me his weird little look.

"Oh, stop it," I commanded, grinning. My legs still crossed, I extended one limb, reaching out and invading Max's side of the table. Very softly, I grazed over Max's thigh, continuing to do so until I reached his crotch, which I rubbed more energetically.

Max jerked back, skidding his chair across the concrete dock in surprise. "Harley!" he shouted. Color rose to his cheeks again, and he buried his hands in his face, humiliated. A moment later however, he brought his face back up and to much to my surprise—much, much, much—he had a smile on a his face. It was small, but it was there.

I titled my head, interested in his bipolar behavior. "Weirdo," he decided to say, pursing his lips after. He sighed and looked up the sky. "You know, I kind of want it to rain so I can use the umbrella."

I gave him a mock-glare. "Why can't I get you this excited over the undies, Max?" I wondered, leaning my chin on my elbow and titling my head a bit.

"Because they're underwear, Harley," the boy grunted.

I then perked up, snapping my fingers and grinning widely. "Hm, say, what can I do to get you to wear only your undies and then prance about holding the umbrella? You'll do it in private, if that helps."

"No thanks," the boy denied. "God, Harley, why do you insist on being so creepy?"

"Creepy?" I echoed. "I beg to differ. Besides, I'm positive you're into something pretty scandalous. You just haven't discovered it." I tapped my fingers on the table, giving him a satisfied look for my statement.

Max shook his head. "I doubt it," he argued. "Sundaes, being bitten and being forced to pull your hair are quite enough for me."

"You forgot spankings!" I exclaimed. "Anyway, experimentation is the best way to discover what you like. And with plenty of time in Slateport, I intend to uncover it. No matter how dirty."

"When we're in Slateport," he debated, "I intend to train. You better not distract me! Or I'm not coming!"

I put a hand up, trying to calm the boy. "Fine, fine. But you cannot deny me all the time!" I told him. "Like I said before, there are regulations for staying in my household. For one, you do have to walk around in those undies. Honest!"

"If that's the case, I'm not coming then either."

I let out an upwards puff of breath, letting it hit my bangs. The waitress showed up again, giving us our entire order, complete with food and drinks. Max was quick to take his silverware and start digging into his pancakes, either because he was really hungry or because he wanted the conversation to end. Either way, he kept a rather annoyed expression on his face, one of which I examined closely as I spread some jam on my pieces of toast. I had a feeling he was putting on a show here, just trying to act difficult because he realized he let a truer form of himself show yesterday.

"You know," Max finally voiced, minutes flying by of silence, "the only cruise I've ever been on was the one for the Hoenn Grand Festival. Being a participant, May could invite several of her friends, so Brock, Ash and I were allowed onboard. I've been on lots of ships before, but that was the only true cruise."

"Ah, now see, I was already in Slateport City by then, waiting for the Festival to start," I revealed, smiling. "If only I knew what I know now, about you being one great tart. If so, I would've skipped the whole Festival and taken you back home with me." I laughed loudly.

"May would've shot you," he stated nonchalantly. "Actually, she still will when she finds out."

"When?" I echoed. "So, you've decided to tell the trol—your sister, I mean?"

The boy shrugged. "I don't know about that yet. But, I do think I need to write back to her since she took the time to write me a birthday card and all." Max picked at his pancakes, swiping a piece around in the gooey syrup absentmindedly.

I grinned beneath my hand, which I held to my mouth casually, acting like I was itching my upper-lip. I still couldn't wait for May to find out about everything. She was too much of a bloody coward to ever murder me, so it wasn't as if I had to fear for my life. I could imagine her abandoning Max quicker than anything else, simply thinking he was a sick little fuck and cutting him off completely. Of course, that was my version of her, and in reality, all I could see her doing was kidnapping Max and hiding him out for "his safety and well-being."

As we continued to eat, I pulled out the pamphlet for the cruise, looking over what it had to offer once more. I smiled happily, flipping the brochure over and letting Max have a look. "See, they have a pool, an delightful dining hall, a ballroom, a sunbathing and spa area, and much, much more. It has everything I need, and since I'm bringing you along, I'm definitely complete onboard the W.T. East."

"Does it have a battling area?" he questioned. "It could be fun battling onboard a ship like that."

I pulled the pamphlet away. "Why would you want to battle when you have all those other things to enjoy? Including their grand and fabulous rooms with king-sized beds, which I intend to enjoy fully." I winked at the boy knowingly, finishing the last of my toast and then sipping some coffee.

Seeing I was done with my meal, Max finished up his pancakes and set down his fork with a weird sort of excitement. "Let's battle now!" he exclaimed, leaning forward and everything like a nerd.

"Max, I just ate. Do you want me to have a cramp?" I wondered, raising an eyebrow.

"Please, it's your Pokémon that do the real work," he argued.

I was amazed by this boy's level of enthusiasm for battling; it was almost equal to my eagerness to shag him, and what did that say about the both of us, really? I couldn't imagine the boy ever suggesting the two of us should fuck the way he hyped up for a simple battle. I did, however, look forward to the day when he took it upon himself to fully make the first move in a shag, and continuing to be very persistent the whole time. He'd come close, true, but it was always I who had to push for it and had to make all the first moves. Oh, what a delightful day that was going to be when he finally advanced!

"Now, come on," he urged, getting up from his seat and grabbing his bag. He began rushing over to the middle of the wide dock, making a fair amount of room between all the businesses and where he stood.

I gave a light sigh, placing down an estimated amount of money for the meal and getting up as well. I dusted off any possible crumbs on my lap and then headed over to the where the boy was, distancing myself several feet away. He was already holding a Pokéball, clutching it tightly.

"Darling, why is it when you and I have a battle, I cannot help but notice how ridiculously adorable and ravishing you are, hmm?" I acknowledged, giving him a smile.

Max ignored me, making the decision to be the first one to reveal his Pokémon. He threw the Pokéball, and I realized he had chosen one of the Pokémon I had yet to battle: Murkrow. Well, in that case, I thought it best to follow suit, so I chose Sneasel's ball from my bag, throwing it out to the dock in front of the black bird. Sneasel presented itself in an excellent way, showing off its sharp and dangerous claws and glaring deeply at its opponent.

"I suppose this is a one-on-one match, Maximus?" I wondered, putting a hand on my hip.

"Yep!" he answered. "Now, Murkrow, Faint Attack!"

Taken back by how Max used such a strong attack as a starter, I was momentarily stuck on what to have Sneasel do. Murkrow and Sneasel were both Dark-types, making for an interesting battle, but most likely quick, as Dark-types were very strong against each other.

Quickly, I composed myself and ordered, "Sneasel, use your Agility!"

Sneasel dashed about, making it difficult for Murkrow to keep a close eye on where its opponent was looming. Flapping its wings and creating a vast amount of height between itself and the ground, Murkrow flew high, bursting down the Faint Attack with a beam of its haunting eyes. Sneasel moved out of the way quick enough, then jumped high, knocking Murkrow down on the ground and flowing up with a couple of strikes of Fury Swipes, which I had ordered only a moment earlier.

"Haze!" Max ordered.

Murkrow flapped its wings even more violently, regaining its position in the sky and meanwhile creating a messy fog around the docks. I squinted, searching for both Sneasel and the stupid little bird. Murkrow had made it difficult to see for itself, so I figured it was both a disadvantage and an advantage at the same time.

"Fury Attack, right into the air!" I shouted.

Sneasel looked up, shooting out the spiky blasts and managing to hit Murkrow several times before the bird moved out of the way, listening to Max's next command—a Night Shade, it seemed—and paralyzed Sneasel with a flash of light. Murkrow then swooped down, lingering around the concrete dock back and forth, trying hard to confuse Sneasel even more.

"Astonish!" Max yelled.

"Try to snap out of it and use Icy Wind!"

But Sneasel still couldn't move. Murkrow's attack was a direct hit, sending Sneasel sliding back and in a groggy state of puzzlement. Unable to get up, Murkrow sent another Astonish attack down, causing any efforts of Sneasel's to just prove useless.

"Keep trying!" I urged, clutching my fist.

"Murkrow, Pursuit! Then Faint Attack again!" Even from where I was at, I could hear the smile on Max's face, the little fuck.

Murkrow's combination of attacks was admirable: a gusty stroke of Pursuit slamming against Sneasel, and then a moment later, a blast of dark-colored spark of Faint Attack. The smoke of whisking movement cleared, and I had to admit, I wasn't surprised to see Sneasel completely knocked out. Regardless, I rolled my eyes, instantly returning the creature and rolling my eyes.

"La-di-da!" I grunted towards Max, crossing my arms like a bratty kid. "I guess I deserve that for not caring to battle anyway."

Max was too busy congratulating Murkrow for the lickity-split win to care about responding to my statement. I walked over to him after a moment of fuming, managing to settle my emotions rather quickly. Instead of patting Murkrow on the head, I patted Max, running my hands through his hair and lifting his chin so he would look at me. The boy was confused by my desire to have him look at me, but relaxed when he noticed I had a rather calm and adoring expression on my face.

"I'm going to have to admit, Max," I told him in a flip tone, "if you want to really train, I'll suggest finding opponents other than me. My tendency to slack-off may hinder your work."

Max batted my hand away. "Don't be silly," he said. "I'm just better than you, that's all."

I glared at Max, but did my best to keep the anger inside me flattened. The boy returned his Pokémon and swung his backpack over his shoulder, ready to move onto something else. Of course, there wasn't anything to move onto, so I just walked idly by him, sitting on the edge of the dock like we had done the first night we got into town. Max eventually sat, too, laughing foolishly as he did so.

"I think the two of us need to have a rematch between Kirlia and Cacturne," he stated. "It was the first battle we had together." He smiled whimsically.

This made me smile, too. "Indeed it was. Oh, and this time, Cacturne's ego would not allow him to be beat again." I pulled Max close to me with a sweep of my arm, forcing him to lean against my side.

"Or your ego?" the boy quipped, looking up at me with a raised eyebrow. He then squinted as he turned his head, spotting something to the far left of us, which appeared to be a ship. "Hey, do you think that's the one we're taking?"

"It looks like it," I replied, holding a flat hand over my eyes so I could get a closer look. "Boarding starts soon, so let's get a head start, darling," I then said, standing up and offering my hand to Max.

The boy took it, and I lifted him onto his feet quickly. We began walking towards where we saw the ship, which was relatively close to Jasmine's Gym. Max took out his PokéNav thing as we trotted along, but I wasn't quite sure what he was checking for, although from my angle I could see he was looking at a map of Slateport City.

"From the looks of it," Max examined, "we'll probably be making quite a few stops. There are a lot of tourist hot-stops between here and Slateport."

"Well," I said, "the tickets say something about four stops. Slateport is the last, so I'm sure that's going to get fucking annoying."

Max didn't seem to bothered by the issue and kept walking, staring down at the device with intent. Several minutes later, right when we reached the boarding harbor, he put away the PokéNav and let his eyes linger over the massively large white and gold-rimmed ship that seemed to block a jillion and one feet of the sky. There was a very huge crowd of people around the docks now, either just hanging around to see what the hoopla was about or because they, too, were passengers on the boat.

The line to board was rather short, as there was still quite some time left before the ship was set to leave at ten o'clock. I presented the tickets to the attendant, who took a few notes and then handed me paper, which he scribbled the assigned room number and a few other notes. Afterwards, Max and I walked along the tall and narrow metal ramp that led onto the ship.

"I think I'm getting sea legs," Max noted, clutching onto the rail as we got higher and higher.

"Pssh, we're not even on the boat yet, kiddo," I noted, grabbing his hand and guiding him quicker up to the top. "Don't tell me you get sea sick or else I'm going to have to boot your adorable ass off, my love."

"I don't," he assured, "but I've just never been on a ship this big." Instead of shaking my grip off, the boy seemed to be grateful for the contact and even pushed himself forward, making sure he was right beside me so he could half-lean against me as we walked up the ramp.

"Not feeling well does give us an excuse to stay lock up in the room all day," I told him. "Oh, speaking of which, we appear to be on lodging level six, room J. Looks like it's first class for us."

"J?" the boy echoed. He then shrugged. "Well, I guess it figures you'd buy tickets that'd allow us into first class. Would you settle for anything else?"

"Absolutely not," I told him, rubbing his upper-arm. When we finally finished the ramp and were just about on the deck, I scooted the boy forward, exclaiming, "Now, stop dawdling, and get onboard!"

Max stepped foot on the ship, making a funny face at the change of flooring and then moved more, trying to stand in the center of the deck. As I settled on the ship, I, too, had to admit it was a very queasy and uncomfortable feeling being this high on floating fucking object in the water. Especially when you could feel the constant rocking back and forth and the gust of wind that seemed to only increase.

"Oh, my," I noted, blinking several times as I attempted to get used to the feeling. I distracted myself by taking a good old look at the incredibly decorative deck, choke-full of potted plants (on a fucking ship!) and lawn chairs and those weird binocular devices.

Max let out an uneasy sigh, walking all the way to the other side of the ship and leaning over the railing to get a look at the view. From this side of the ship, it was easy to spot some of the islands and cities further out at sea. I leaned my back against the railing, crossing my arms and grunting.

"So far, I'm unimpressed," I commented dully.

"Then let's have a further look around," the boy suggested. "This ship is huge—there's got to be something worthwhile on it."

"All right," I agreed, beginning to walk with the boy towards the large two-door entryway.

This led to the inside of the actual ship, which had much more pleasant décor than the outside. As we walked by another large door, I stopped, going back and peeking inside. Inside was apparently the ballroom, though it looked pretty dumb and bland. Continuing on, we saw stairways going up and down, signs describing where they led to, neither of which brought us to where our room was located. At the very end of the hall was a short corridor heading towards the dining hall and closed-off kitchen. Now, the dining hall—which was completely blank and very tidy thanks to no meals taking place—was very beautiful, a nice Victorian-like design showing through the furniture, coloring and even drapes and carpet. I approved greatly.

Even though there was no activity, Max and I walked down to the dining hall, passing between the empty tables, all of which had white cloth napkins, ruffled and scrunched up in tight rolls. The silverware, apparently properly arranged, was sparkling, and I considered—just for a moment—snatching a few, as they looked like they were worth some money. But, Max was around, and I wasn't in the mood for his bitching.

"I don't think I'm going to fit in here," Max stated. "I bet this ship is full of old people."

"Then we'll represent the beauty of youth, darling," I chirped as we approached the north end of the dining room. We walked through the other exit, ending up in another hallway, which contained only rooms.

We walked through and ended up outside again, this time on the very far end of the ship, quite a distance from where we first got on the ship. On this side of the deck, however, was the large and oddly zigzag-shaped pool. In both corners of the deck were hot tubs, and course, everywhere else, there were the weird binocular things and lawn chairs galore. To the left of us, there was a stairway leading to the upper-deck, and from the look of it, there appeared to be three battlefields, which caused a smile to grace Max's face. He quickly ran up the steps, instantly focusing on the three battles that were taking place: one between an Eevee and Muk, another between a Teddiursa and a Doduo, and the last between a Torkoal and Hypno. Each trainer battling was rather young.

"Ah, so I guess this cruise won't contain only old bastards," I happily stated. "And thank goodness, because you remember what I said about old men, right?"

Max rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I do." He then shook my statement away and said, "I want to battle later, Harley."

"Fine with me," I shrugged. "It gives me time to bath out in the sun, after all."

I took out the pamphlet again, reading over some of the other entertainment provided on the ship. "There's a casino for lousy fucks," I said aloud. "Ooh, and also a bar. That might be fun."

"For you," Max spewed. He then stood on his tip-toes, trying to get a look at the brochure. "Anything else?" he wondered.

"Hmm, nothing I didn't already mention before," I voiced. "Want to go find our room now?" I then asked.

The boy shrugged. We began walking again, heading towards the direction where a sign read Lodging Level 5& 6 and pointed left. We walked by several big rooms, most of which looked like they were for private parties and the such. We eventually reached where our room was at, and I used the ancient old metal key the attendant gave me to unlock the room.

The room opened up to a small enclosure, complimented with the entrance to the bathroom, which shone of pearly tiles and the reflections of various mirrors. To the left was the hamper/closet, which had several locked hangers, as if someone was going to take the time to steal hangers in the first place. The actual room, further down the small hall, was finitely decorated with tan and light yellow furniture, topped off with light pink drapes and bed sheets. The dark birch wood of the desk and dresser were a nice touch amongst everything else occupying the small space we were given. There was no television, and I was very glad for that, because it meant Max had absolutely no distractions when we were in here, meaning he'd have to give into something.

I smiled, letting my mind travel off to some deliciously naughty thoughts involving the boy. Just as my envisions were getting good though, Max pushed me to the side so he could walk to the end of the room and pull the curtains back to get some sun into the space. I grinned, watching him having to stand on his tip-toes to do so. I threw my bag down on the dresser, yawning and stretching my muscles tiredly. As I ran my hand through my hair, I readjusted my hat, making sure it was finely centered and not crooked.

"Look!" Max said, urging me to come over to the window. When I did, he pointed towards an island far out to the west. "That's Cianwood Island. I'm glad I already earned my badge there or else we wouldn't be able to go to Slateport."

"Oh, yes, we would. I'd just kidnap you and not allow you to earn it." I dropped to my knees, pulling Max towards me and embracing him close to my chest. "Maybe I should just do that anyway, and not let you come back to Johto to get your last badge."

"You wouldn't do that," Max replied, not threatened by my statement. "You're not that mean."

"Oh, really? Do I need to remind you of all the 'awful' things I did to your sister, huh?" I wondered, kissing the side of his face afterward.

"Yeah, but you hate her," he stated. "You like me, as far as I know."

"Isn't funny how I can completely detest one sibling and just adore the other?" I rubbed one hand over the boy's collarbone and then used the other to pat his hip gently.

"I think it's a little weird, to be honest," Max admitted. "Maybe you're just being sexist. You like my dad, after all, but I bet you hate my mother."

"I don't know her," I told Max, "but then again, she did marry my Norman, so I do have some sort of justification to hate her."

"Your Norman?" Max repeated, whirling around and glaring at me. "Aren't you over that by now?"

"Well, he's still one handsome man, I must admit. But, you're much more my type, Max." I laughed sincerely, giving Max a frank look. "You know how much I adore you, so don't get all jealous like that. I mean, goodness, jealous of your own father? I think that's a bit silly."

"You're the one jealous of my sister, Harley," the boy pointed out.

I really couldn't deny this, since it was the bloody truth. Regardless of whether Max sincerely had a thing for his sister or not, she was still a trollop, and I hated her passionately. After all, she still had a hold on Max, which I disliked immensely. Max had moved on, was mine now, and was definitely not in need of revisiting the past when he was doing fine without his fucking sister anyway.

Desperate to reaffirm the fact Max was indeed mine, I pressed my mouth against his, titling my head to increase the pressure and closeness. When I was done, I leaned my forehead against Max's, and smirked at him knowingly. Max didn't smile, but he didn't frown either, and sooner or later, the boy reconnected our mouths again, adding more fervor than I had. I grabbed the boy's hips, steadying the uneasy shake I felt. The boy, feeling more comfortable now, linked his arms around my shoulders, opening his mouth to allow my slick, warm tongue entry.

After a while, out of breath, we broke apart, and a blush developed in the middle of Max's cheeks. Arms still around me, Max pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes and pulled me a bit closer. I sensed he was about to tell or ask me something.

"What is it?" I wondered, urging him to say it.

"Harley… I, um…" He kept his eyes narrowed, not even trying to look at me. "I… um, it's…"

I rose an eyebrow, lifting his chin so he'd be forced to look at me. "What?" I asked again, giving him a puzzled look.

"Never mind." He tried to pull away from me, completely red in the cheeks, but I pulled him back, very curious. Whatever he had to say was pretty big, I guessed, or else he wouldn't seem so hesitant to say it.

"Don't do that," I chided. "You can tell me, darling."

"It's nothing. I forgot, actually." The boy pulled away again, much more forceful this time.

I stood up, putting a hand on my hip and frowning. I had absolutely no idea what he wanted to tell me, but I certainly didn't believe his "I forgot" nonsense. Whatever the case, it must not have been that important, I concluded. Lazily, I shrugged off my jacket and placed it on the chair belonging to the desk. Max was now over at the large bed, reading something from the nightstand.

Both of looked up the ceiling when we heard the loud, overly obnoxious foghorn-like sound from the ship, a clear sign the ship was about to set sail. The horn went off several more times before finally shutting up. I kicked off my boots and fell backwards on the bed, relaxing on top of the cushion-y, smooth mattress and sheets. Even though Max was busy reading whatever, I reached over, pulling the back of his shirt and causing him to stumble back onto the mattress as well.

"Feels nice, huh?" I said, crawling over to his side and snaking my arm around his stomach. "I think we're going to have fun on this here bed."

"I was reading!" Max exclaimed, but it was so weak and pathetic that I could sense even he knew it.

"Shh, stay still," I soothed, placing a hand on his chest. "I can feel the ship moving now."

Max listened to me, concentrating on the feeling of the swaying ship, not just moving back and forth against the waves, but moving through them very slowly. I was still focused on the movement of the ship when I felt Max's hand on the back of my neck, the boy looking at me seriously as I laid next to him. I grinned, my attention no longer on the ship, but on Max's neck, strikingly obvious as the collar of his shirt was a bit frazzled. I leaned in, pressing my lips against the skin there, sucking on it hard as if I were some retarded teenage boy, desperate to give his slutty girlfriend a hickey.

The boy was obviously a bit uncomfortable with the feeling, as he pulled away, allowing my lips to move to his chin. I slid my lips around there for a while, but eventually moved away, concentrating on his wonderful little arms. Max still had one hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down as he breathed in and out at an unsteady pace. It hadn't quite been like what I one day hoped for, but Max had definitely insinuated something this time around, and I was happy to fulfill everything he wanted at this movement.

I moved my head back to his face, flicking my tongue around his ear, and whispering softly, "Want to be that rambunctious little scamp I know you are and be on top again, darling?"

Max became a bit stiff. "I, um," he stuttered, pursing his lips, "I… uh… I don't know." He blushed deeply.

I stifled my laughter, encircling my arms around the boy and turning him over onto my stomach. Beneath him, I began pulling off his shirt, making sure to take his glasses in the removal, too. When I began messing with his shorts, I felt a slow, mild twitch of his cock, a quick arousal developing at the feeling of my hands so near his thighs and between his legs. I grinned maniacally at him, urging him to lift his hips so I could slide off the pair of shorts. He allowed me, and then reached down to my chest, making his own attempt to remove my tank-top, which I helped him out in doing, as he still seemed a bit flustered from my question. However, now on top of me and certainly not protesting about anything, I had a feeling he was most definitely going to be the one on top again, which made me spiral into a wacky haze of lust.

I pushed my hips up, grinding them against the boy's and then unbuckling my belt myself, carefully sliding off my pants and very cleverly doing so without having to ask Maximus to get off. Now, Max, still in his little undies—which were not the ones I gave him, sadly, and I really had to wonder why the fuck he wasn't wearing them when they looked so good on him—was very hesitant to reach down and touch my already hard and aching erection, so I reached out, guiding his hand to help him. A shiver flew up the boy's body at instant contact, so I jerked my hips up again, trying to get him used to the feeling. I laughed through this, watching him uneasily begin to touch me.

Wanting to calm the boy, or at least distract him, I began rubbing my hand against his undies, specifically in the area where his hard cock was pressing through the plain white material. I sat up, fusing our chests and pulling the boy up so I could remove his adorable undies. After I successfully slid them off, I began pumping the boy's cock more enthusiastically in my hand, meanwhile waving my hips about to earn more movement in Max's tight grip. His thrusts became more confident, and soon, his breathing is hitched and his skin is sticky from a damp sweat. I stop our movements, not wanting either of us to come before I even have a chance to fuck the boy.

Still for a moment, I felt the sway of the ship, moving against the waves and the wind hitting the window outside. I put my hand over the boy's mouth, grinning as I command him, "Spit in it."

Puzzled at first, the boy understood a moment later, but still was hesitant. I continued to smile, and I watched as his cheeks gather some saliva in preparation to spit. Eventually spitting, I felt how warm and hot his saliva was, and I just lolled my head back in amazement. After coating my cock with his spit, I then, very carefully, urged the boy to rise up, hovering over my length. Max kept his eye on what I was doing, soon biting his bottom lip as I began to guide him down onto my cock. He inhaled, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Harley…" he gasped, his fists clutching around the sheets at his sides.

I kept pushing him down, feeling the boy's muscles clench and tighten as I lowered him completely. I closed my eyes momentarily to get used to the amazing pressure of his tight ass around my cock, settling eventually and then rising my hips to urge him to start moving.

"Come on, darling," I coaxed, enveloping his cock in my hand and beginning to pump.

Max let out a rather stifled moan, moving his hips and almost pulling my entire length out of his body before lowering himself back down. We both inhaled in surprise at the feeling, and Max repeated it instantly, but with more speed. I smirked in approval, making sure to respond with him, thrusting up my hips and driving into his fucking adorable ass.

Steady, calm, but soon fervent and fast, Max leaned forward as he slammed down onto my hardness, pulling me into his arms and giving himself a needed leverage so he wouldn't fall over in exhaustion. Ahh, and oh, glory day, it was perfect! I wanted Max like this forever, impaled on my cock and slamming down on me in a needy boyish lust!

I pushed the boy's chest away just a bit, enough space so I could fuse our mouths together. It became an open and wanton kiss, one that Max moaned into, and one that I couldn't help make more passionate by twisting my hips, forcing the boy to straddle my cock even harder.

"Mm, Maximus," I breathed, feeling his thrusts become harder and faster.

Max's arm tightened around my neck, and I wanted so badly to just clamp my teeth around the supple and pale upper-arm that was looming in front of me. Instead, I leaned forward, biting his neck again and causing him to call out in half-pain, half-pleasure as I simultaneously encircled my hand around his hard length. Max's body shuddered, and I felt his warm climax release onto my hand and stomach. I allowed myself to savor the tight pressure of his ass as he shuddered in aftershocks before coming, too, calling out his name and throwing my head back in completion.

Drained, I fell backwards, sighing heavily. Max breathed hard above me, eyes shut and hovering over me diagonally. He whispered my name, very affectionately, and I realized it was definitely in a way I had not heard before. He opened his eyes, looking down at me, almost looking sad. I sat up, kissing him on the mouth and rubbing where I had bitten him, hoping he wasn't despondent about that.

"Harley…" he said again, keeping me close in an embrace.

I kissed his cheek now, wondering what was up with his whimsical-like attitude. I began to rub his arm, patting him gently and giving him a curious look. Max's eyes narrowed familiarly, and whatever it was that was bothering him, I had an odd feeling it had to do with what he was trying to tell me before. A quick thought occurred to me, but I shook it off instantly, not ready to arrive at that possibility.

So, instead, I pushed the boy up, releasing my cock from being buried in his delightful ass and helped him lie down. I then moved the sheets on the bed, pulling the covers over us both and pressing my chest against the boy's back. I stroked his hair, kissing his shoulder and trying my best to soothe whatever it was that had him so blue.

"Don't be so glum," I urged the boy. "You're not nearly as charming this way."

Max turned his body but remained in my embrace. He looked at me seriously, but still appeared so down in the dumps. "I'm not going to do what Drew told me to, Harley," he stated softly. "I'm not going to leave you, because, um, I think it's just… dumb to just stop hanging around someone I care about."

"Well, that's good to know," I told him, pushing back some of my own hair. "If you left me now I think I'd go mad!"

"Really?" he wondered.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "You know that already. Stop getting a complex."

Max now laughed, brightening up finally. He smiled and pushed his face into my shoulder. "I guess I just really, really realized that I liked being with you, Harley. You know, I've become so used to it. And I don't want us to stop traveling together." He blushed lightly, but kept his eyes on me. "Thank you."

"For what?" I wondered, amusement in my voice.

"I don't know. Just for being fun."

"Ohhhh," I said proudly. "Well, then, thank you for being so fucking faunlet-y and adorable, Max."

"Uh… you're welcome," the boy replied, furrowing his brow a bit. "Anyway, do you want to get out of the room and see if anything is worth checking out again?"

I sat up, stretching in a lazy way. "Fine, why not!" I agreed, searching for my pants in the messy sheets. When I found them and my tank-top, too, I began getting dressed.

I noticed Max was watching me, but his somewhat mawkish expression didn't make me want to tease him and give him a knowing grin. It worried me again. The boy was becoming very quiet and his statements of enjoying my company and not going anywhere only heightened some of my previous thoughts. I may have been wrong, but I had a distinct feeling the boy was beginning to reeeeeally like me, and he might have been falling a bit deeper into his emotions than expected. And, that revelation was forcing me to consider something, too.

End of Part Nine