Things start to get T-rated in this chapter.

Reference: The robotics game they play in this chapter is based loosely on one invented for the F.I.R.S.T. (For Inspiration and Recognition of Science and Technology) robotics competition from a couple of years ago. It was called Aerial Assist. The original involved more robots and less demolition, though.

Also – In case you didn't cook poffins as obsessively as I did: Watmel berries are known for being especially sweet.

Volkner yawned and almost nodded off in a window seat toward the back of the cushy tour bus, gazing protectively at the aisle seat on his left. It was empty save for his prized jacket, which he'd put down as a placeholder. He'd been prepared to defend the spot from his teammates, but everyone seemed to know better by now. It wasn't spoken, but everyone knew who that seat belonged to.

The bright red hair and distinctive voice were hard to miss as Flint stepped lazily onto the bus. His tiredness was apparent; the fire trainer had dark circles around his eyes, and his slouch was even more pronounced than usual. Instead of his usual flamboyant yellow top, Flint wore his new black Firewire t-shirt to match the rest of the team. He conversed briefly with Palmer (who was almost disgustingly energetic) at the front of the vehicle before continuing down the aisle, and his eyes lit up a bit as he and Volkner exchanged sleepy smiles.

Volkner picked up his jacket from the seat next to him and put it in his lap to make room for his companion to flop down limply by his side. Volkner smirked as Flint closed his eyes for a moment.

He couldn't help but poke fun at his friend. "A little burnt out, eh, Captain?"

Flint opened one eye idly. "Remind me again why I agreed to let Palmer do the scheduling."

Volkner glanced at the tall, blonde supervisor, who was practically bouncing off the walls and pestering every student who made their way up the stairs into the bus, trying to amp them up for the impending competition. His success was limited at best. "You were lazy, remember? This is why I tell everyone you're irresponsible," he said, poking his friend's cheek to keep his attention. When Flint blinked drowsily in response, he kept talking. "Even so, I would have thought you would object to starting this trip at four-thirty in the morning." He allowed a slight touch of bitterness to enter his tone. "Of COURSE Palmer would be a morning person."

"Ugh. I'm too tired for this," Flint complained. He snatched up Volkner's jacket and spread it over himself like a blanket as he shifted to lean heavily on his friend's shoulder. "G'night. Wake me up when he get to Johto."

"Hey! Who said you could...oh, never mind," Volkner trailed off. It wasn't as if this sort of thing was a rare occurrence; Flint had always been touchy-feely. Well, with him, at least. It was probably just a best-friends thing. Volkner's hand twitched with the urge to put his arm around him, but he didn't, deciding it was a bit too risky. The last thing he needed was for Flint to wake up and—somewhat justifiably—make fun of him for being a creep.

It wasn't just Volkner and Flint who were exhausted. A quiet, heavy atmosphere of fatigue hung over the team. Even Gardenia and Candice, who were usually remarkably loud and peppy, sat silently in front of the two. Volkner searched for ways to pass the time, but it was no use. No one else was awake to text, and even if he could have reached the Poké balls in his bag on the floor without rousing Flint, it was against the rules to send out Pokémon on buses unless they were trained service Growlithe. He wasn't sure how long it took, but after a while, the comfortable weight on his left shoulder and his thorough exhaustion lulled him to sleep.

Several hours later, Palmer's voice boomed throughout the bus. "IT'S TIME! WE'RE HERE, TEAM. LET'S GO!"

"Ugh," Volkner groaned eloquently. The first thing he noticed was that he was sleeping on something fuzzy and sweet-smelling...almost like Watmel berries. He looked down and remembered where he'd fallen asleep. Volkner absently noted that Flint's afro made an excellent pillow.

Flint awoke a second later with a groggy, disgruntled grumble, and Volkner regrettably sat up to mind his personal space again. He knew he had probably looked a little foolish, but he couldn't bring himself to be embarrassed.

Well, at least until he found out that Candice had turned around to be social at one point, only to discover the two cuddling as they slept. His regret set in later when she posted a photo of the scene on Facebook with a cutesy, embarrassing description.

Palmer's way-too-excited voice piped in once more. "C'mon, everyone! I've got your hotel room assignments up here. Now remember, these are completely randomized. I pulled them out of a hat last night, so no complaining or trading!" A few groans were heard as all the students made their way out of the bus. Volkner practically had to drag Flint out, and the pair schlepped their luggage out with them.

"...and Lucas, you'll be going with...yup. Thorton. Room 210." Volkner couldn't help but notice Palmer switching a few cards around; subtlety had never been their supervisor's specialty. "Volkner, you're with Flint in Room 212," he instructed, his smile reaching his eyes. Volkner cocked an eyebrow. The only way the man could have been more obvious was if he had winked at the two.

Flint perked up a bit, lifting his head from Volkner's shoulder as they followed the flow of students toward the hotel where they'd be staying. "Sweet, dude, we're roomies!" he said with a foolish grin.

Volkner glanced back at his supervisor. "Yeah, well, I suspect foul play," he said once they were out of Palmer's earshot.

Flint blinked sleepily in confusion. "Foul Play? None of your Pokémon can learn Foul Play."

Volkner raised an eyebrow at the captain's obliviousness. "You really are tired."

Once upstairs, the pair arrived at Room 212. Flint clumsily attempted to open the door with his card key, still inept from sleep deprivation. Volkner took the time to examine the rooms around them. Lucas and Thorton were on their right side, while Lucian and Roark were situated on their left. Maylene and Dawn were unloading their luggage in the room across from them.

"Haha! Got it!" Flint declared triumphantly. He pushed the heavy door aside and switched the light on to reveal a bathroom, standard hotel decor, and two double beds. "Aw, man!"

"What? What's wrong?"

Flint turned around and leered jokingly at his friend. "I was hoping there would only be one bed so you'd have to sleep with me! What if I get lonely?"

Volkner snorted, unperturbed by the flirting as he dropped his bag on one of the beds. "I'd rather sleep on the floor. You'd definitely be the type to hog blankets and take up too much space."

"Yeah, well, you didn't seem to mind this morning."

"Shut up."

After eating a quick lunch and registering for the competition, the team split up. Most went to sit in the stands or visit the gift shop in groups and pairs, but the drivers had to register separately, and the core crew members remained in the pit with all the robots. The inspector was about to arrive, so Flint, Volkner, and Palmer were making their last-minute check.

Palmer put down the remote and let out a breath of relief. "Looks like everything's in working order. I was afraid transportation would mess up the robot, but it looks like Roark's designs have held up."

"Wait...aw, crap."

Volkner's eyebrows rose. "What's up, Flint?"

"Right here," Flint gestured to the robot. "This panel. It's loose," he said, gingerly jiggling one metal piece just in front of the back left tire. "Man, I thought I soldered that better! It'll still run fine, but that bit's gonna be weak. Gosh, I'm sorry, guys." Flint put his face in his hands and groaned in frustration.

"Flint, have you forgotten you train Fire-types?" Palmer reminded him. "We can weld this up nice and quick. No problem."

"That's the thing. I left my Poké balls in my bag, and I forgot my bag at home because I was so freakin' tired this morning."

Volkner wordlessly reached into his pocket and took out a Poké ball. Once opened, it released a small Magby, who hopped about curiously for a bit and glanced up at Volkner. "Think this little one can help, Flint? He's got Ember."

Flint's eyes widened. "Volk, I didn't know you had a Magby! You just got about two hundred percent more awesome!" Volkner and Palmer paused, giving Flint impatient looks. "Right, sorry. Anyway, Ember might be too much for a repair this small, but this guy's got Flame Body, right?" Volkner nodded, and Flint bent down to the tiny Fire-type.

"Want to give me a hand, buddy?" When the Pokémon hopped up and down happily and nodded, Flint reached into his seemingly-bottomless pockets and extracted the pair of heat-proof gloves he always wore when working with his Pokémon. He carefully picked Magby up and placed the Pokémon on the table, gently leading it to the robot. "Volk, you wanna hold that panel in place? This'll just be a sec." When Volkner did so, Flint gently held Magby's paws to the seams one at a time, and the heat from the Pokémon's skin gradually welded the metal together, mending it and fixing the problem. Flint laughed excitedly, hugging Magby and lifting it into the air. "Perfect! Great job!" Magby squirmed gleefully in Flint's arms and glowed with happiness.

Literally.

The other teams turned their heads around in curiosity and surprise as a powerful white light emanated from the evolving Pokémon. Flint was forced to put it down and back up as it grew rapidly in size (and weight). Spikes, flames, and bulk appeared as the mass grew larger, and an impressive Magmar came into sight when the light faded. It growled proudly at the awed stares it received.

Once he was able to tear his eyes away from his striking Pokémon, Volkner turned his elated gaze to his best friend.

"Flint, you did it! You made Magby evolve!" He beamed and grabbed his stunned friend's hands in his own. "Thank you so much!"

Flint grinned, his smile matching Volkner's in brilliance. "Anytime, bro. I told you your Pokémon like me more than you! Guess I'm just that—oof!"

The wind was knocked out of him as he was tackle-hugged by his friend. "Thanks, Flint. For everything." Volkner then leaned forward and pressed their lips together in a brief kiss. Once Flint recovered from the shock, he wrapped his arms around Volkner's neck and pressed their foreheads together as they exchanged fond smiles and laughed softly.

Palmer grinned and shook his head wistfully. "Well, would you look at that. A Pokémon evolving by bonding with someone other than its trainer? And here I'd thought I'd seen it all." The other two, who were currently in their own world, didn't hear him, nor did they hear the whistles and applause from the other teams around them.

"DRIVERS FROM TEAM FIREWIRE AND TEAM FLARE, YOU'RE UP! PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE PIT FOR THE FIRST ROUND IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY! THE MATCH WILL BEGIN IN FIVE MINUTES," the announcer boomed.

Roark and Maylene carefully deposited the robot onto their team's side of the field. Maylene definitely could have lifted it easily by herself, but no one said as much. Roark liked to think he was helping.

Volkner had noticed she was barefoot as usual, which wasn't allowed in the Pit. He could only assume the officials were afraid to confront her. He couldn't really blame them.

"Ready, Raichu?" Raichu nodded confidently at Volkner's question. "Great. Charge Beam, now!" The Pokémon held the tip of his tail to the battery and loosed a controlled beam of electricity, making the robot spark and sizzle threateningly as he filled the battery to bursting.

"Great job, Raichu!" he said emphatically, bending down to pet his Pokémon. Raichu preened at the attention.

Volkner gazed across the field to size up their competition. They were...an interesting bunch, that was for sure. Each high schooler's t-shirt was decorated with a red, flaming F, and they all wore vibrant red sunglasses. Indoors. I wonder if that'll impair their vision, Volkner thought idly. Their eccentric hairdos were all a sickly, vibrant orange-red. Even their robot was sprayed scarlet and black. It had four frail-looking claws, and it was obvious more effort had been put into looks than functionality. Frankly, they looked like a cult. One girl from the team released a nervous Electrike onto the field. She commanded it to use Charge, and it whined anxiously and complied weakly, charging their spindly-armed robot slightly. Volkner smiled and shook his head. There was no way that could compete with Raichu's Charge Beam.

"Volk, get off the field! The game's about to start." Volkner turned around as Flint's hand grabbed his, dragging him away from the robots. Raichu leaped after him happily.

Flint pulled Volkner into a seat in the front row of the stands before turning to encourage the drive team with a quick pep talk. He then faced the sea of Firewire shirts that marked the rest of the team behind them in the stands.

"Team, don't think you're done just because you're not driving. You've still got work to do! Firewire's gotta be the loudest team in this place. I wanna you guys to scream so loudly that you won't be able to talk tomorrow! GET FIRED UP!" The captain pumped his fist into the air and whooped loudly, the others joining in enthusiastically. Satisfied, Flint plopped down in the chair next to Volkner, his face bright with joy and exertion. Volkner couldn't help but laugh quietly. "What's so funny, Volk?"

"Pfft. You said you wanted us to 'scream so loudly we won't be able to talk tomorrow.'"

Flint cocked his head. "So? What's so weird about..." A look of realization slowly made its way across his face as Volkner grinned mischievously, and Flint rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Volkner, get your mind out of the gutter!"

"Didn't think through that phrasing too well, did you?" Volkner mumbled, shaking as he suppressed laughter at his own stupid joke.

Flint's exasperated expression disappeared, making way for a playful smirk as he put a hand on Volkner's shoulder and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "If I had my way, the only one who'd be screaming like that is you," he muttered, punctuating the sentence with a subtle nip to his ear.

Volkner flinched at his, and his faced turned a bit pink. It was one thing when Flint openly and jokingly flirted with him, but it was quite another when he got serious and intense like that. "...You're too much," he murmured, averting his eyes and holding a hand over his ear.

Flint placed his hands behind his head and leaned back in a cocky slouch. "You know you love it."

Before long, the match was underway. Everyone knew the rules by now; one robot (controlled jointly by two people) was allowed per team, and three red balls about two feet in diameter were released onto the pitch. Points were scored by hurling these balls into wide, elevated goals, and whoever scored more points was the victor. Each team was allowed one feeder, who returned balls to the pitch after they were sent through the goals. Attacking the other robots was not only legal, but encouraged; this rewarded durable designs and made the games more exciting.

It didn't take long before Firewire pulled ahead significantly thanks to the combined skills of Thorton's driving and Dawn's attack and defense skills, which allowed them to score goal after goal and deflect the few shots Team Flare's robot managed to make. The power imbalance was blatantly obvious; Firewire's robot was pushing the legal upper limit of three feet tall, while Flare's barely managed two. Lucas, who was the feeder for that match, hardly had anything to do on his side. The score was twelve to three in their favor, and the team members in the stands were going wild. There were still two minutes left on the clock, but Volkner could just barely hear Dawn's ruthless statement over the din.

"Let's finish this."

Thorton nodded definitively, and the two mounted a coordinated assault on their opponents. Seeing the advance, Flint leaped to his feet, encouraging the rest of the team to do the same, and he and Volkner led them in the loudest cheer yet.

Roark had styled their weapon after a wrecking ball, having been inspired by the construction equipment from his home town of Oreburgh. The wrecking ball itself was about the size of a Poké ball and was surprisingly heavy, which was a testament to the strength of Roark's design. Thorton drove forward determinedly at an impressive clip. Volkner eyes were glued to the action; he hadn't realized just how intense the games could get. He could hear Flint yelling something next to him, but he was so focused that the words didn't register. The robot's speed made it impossible to dodge in time as Dawn mercilessly swung the heavy wrecking ball, which smashed through two of its opponent's four arms in one fell swoop, causing it to short-circuit with a brief crackle of electricity.

Team Flare's members gasped in unison at their smoking, ruined bot. The referee waited the required twenty seconds as they tried in vain to get it to respond, but it was over.

"AND WITH THAT...THIS PRELIMINARY MATCH IS OVER! CONGRATULATIONS, TEAM FIREWIRE!"

A cacophonous cheer erupted behind the victorious drivers as they were enveloped in a group hug. Even Volkner joined in with the mob. He and Thorton still weren't the best of friends, but this was forgotten as he embraced both him and Dawn in his excitement.

The rest of the rounds scheduled for that day went just as well. Firewire easily defeated Team Plasma of Unova (their robot's battery ran out halfway through, probably because they refused to let a Pokémon charge it), Team Leaf Storm of Kanto (an all-female team who wore matching miniskirts and leg warmers), and the fashionable Team Noir of Kalos (all of whose members wore too much perfume, in Volkner's opinion). Firewire was also slated to face off against a group from Hoenn by the name of Team Magma, but they had been disqualified for starting a fierce brawl with Team Aqua of the same region, and Firewire won by default.

Now that they'd emerged victorious in all the rounds so far, Firewire only had their semifinal and (hopefully) final matches to go. Volkner and the others were ecstatic at the possibility, but they had to wait until tomorrow. Day One's matches were complete.

"Did you see the way that robot's arm shattered? Man, that was so awesome!" Volkner gushed, his voice hoarse from yelling all day. He was practically prancing into the hotel room.

Flint chuckled at his normally-quiet friend's excited antics as he followed him inside. "Yes, Volkner, I saw. I was sitting right next to you the whole time. Remember?"

Flint's words went unheard. "That was so cool, though. Are the games always that brutal?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Sometimes worse. One year, they had trouble declaring a winner because both robots in the finals were so wrecked. The referee had to decide with the coin flip app on his Pokétch. The losing team was PISSED," Flint said with a laugh.

Volkner flopped into bed on his back to stare at the ceiling with an elated grin. "This is all so much fun. I just wish I could have gotten into it earlier instead of being stubborn and stuck-up when I was younger. Man, I could have had two more years of this! We're already juniors, Flint," he whined mournfully.

"You're so dramatic, Volkner," Flint said. "It's not like we're getting old. We still have another year after this." He sat down sideways on Volkner's bed to face him. "I'm just glad you're with us now."

Volkner turned to his friend and sat up. "I don't tell you this often enough, Flint, but I really am grateful for how you helped me on my first day. If it weren't for you, well..." Volkner looked down and fidgeted with his fingers for a moment. "I wouldn't have stayed. So, thanks," he finished, looking back up with a kind smile.

Flint snorted a bit at this and clapped his friend on his shoulder, opting to leave his hand there afterward. "I'm the one who should be thanking you. We've never gotten this far in the competition because our robot's always full of bugs. We normally get knocked out in the third round or so, but this time around, we're in the semifinals, and it's all thanks to you fixing everything. Even the team gets along better, and I..." Flint trailed off and shifted restlessly, averting his eyes and removing his hand from Volkner's shoulder.

Volkner's happy grin took on a roguish quality. "Oh? You what?"

Flint frowned. He should have known he wouldn't get away with it. "Well, I...kind of like having you around and everything...hey, why are you laughing?!"

"Hah! That's it? That's really all you have to say?" Volkner said incredulously. Taking pity on the man somewhat, he shifted to close some of the space between them and slid a hand up Flint's neck to cup his cheek. "Surely there's something else. Why do you 'kind of like having me around?' Where's all your usual bravado?"

Flint froze in place and flushed a bit. "Well, it's one thing when we're joking around. This is...a bit more serious," he admitted. He gulped with difficulty. "Volkner, I've never been this close with anyone else before. I...really like you, okay, and I don't want to say anything to screw it up." He leaned his face into Volkner's hand slightly and closed his eyes for a moment.

A rush of affectionate sympathy came over Volkner at Flint's behavior, and he closed the remaining distance between the two. "Then maybe we shouldn't say anything at all." His eyes became half-lidded as his lips connected with Flint's, which were smooth but firm. Both boys sighed and relaxed into the touch.

For his part, Flint remained slightly stiff for a few moments, unsure of what to do with his hands and feeling distracted by Volkner's movements and the taste on his lips; he had eaten a few too many cookies at the hotel banquet a few minutes ago, and the sweet flavor of chocolate chips remained. Soon, his hands made their way toward his partner seemingly of their own accord, his left reaching into Volkner's soft hair and the right one sliding down his side onto the small, warm expanse of skin exposed between his jeans and the hem of his team t-shirt.

In response, Volkner slipped an arm behind Flint and rubbed his back, and he could feel the back of his shirt ride up slightly at the action. Flint's control slipped a bit, and he couldn't help but lean in farther and deepen the kiss. Both boys' movements became quicker and more passionate as their tongues tangled shyly. A bit of sloppiness ensued, but neither cared too much, even as their noses nudged and their teeth clacked together. They were too busy exploring each other's mouths and listening to the slight slurps and shaky exhales as the sounds of their inexperienced yet fervent kissing became the most prominent in the quiet room, having overtaken the soft hum of the air conditioner.

Flint had just about exhausted his supply of oxygen, so he broke away with a gasp. A small trail of saliva connected their lips for a moment, but neither cared. He looked into Volkner's cloudy blue eyes, which were dark and hazy with lust. He imagined his looked about the same and ducked down with embarrassment, choosing instead to push his head toward Volkner's neck and press his lips to the unmarked skin, sucking softly. That skin wouldn't be unmarked when he was done with it.

Volkner let out a nearly inaudible groan at his action, roughly grasping the back of his head to keep it there. Flint took this as a sign that he was doing something right and moved his mouth higher to the base of his partner's jaw before sucking harder at his—strangely sweet—skin. He'd have to ask the man later what type of body wash he used to keep it that way, not that it was his primary concern at that moment. Volkner's hand combed its way through his red afro, and he fisted the back of Flint's shirt, tugging at it insistently. "Off," he demanded.

Flint laughed and pulled away to comply. When his head was free of the shirt, he noticed his partner doing the same. He couldn't help but run his eyes over Volkner's lightly muscled torso; his friend always looked scrawny underneath his loose jacket, so it was easy to forget he wasn't a complete beanpole. Flint had managed to sneak a few peeks during the times when he slept over at his friend's house, but he'd never gotten this good a look before, and he drank the sight in greedily. Despite his glassy eyes, flushed cheeks, and labored breathing, Volkner still managed to look predatory. As Flint paused to absently ponder how that was, Volkner advanced and leaned toward Flint with one hand on the bedspread. "Hah," he huffed. "You call that a hickey? Let me show you how it's done."

Flint had little time to prepare before Volkner grasped his neck and pulled him forward, burying his face in his neck just above the black collar he always wore. Volkner licked Flint's sensitive neck and immediately sucked at it, much harder than Flint had before. He gasped harshly at the sensation and shuddered, wrapping both arms around Volkner's back and groping desperately at his shoulder blades as his breath caught in his throat. He silently thanked Arceus that his pants were so baggy, as they allowed more space for his awakening erection. One discreet downward glance past Volkner's head confirmed that his partner was just as hard as he was. Flint trembled with arousal at the thought.

By this time, Volkner had straightened up with both of his knees on either side of Flint so he could nip and pull at his ear with his teeth, running his tongue around the shell of it. After this had extracted a drawn-out moan from him, Flint lost his patience. He drew himself up to Volkner's height and placed a hand on either side of his face to pull the man away from his ear. He reconnected their lips aggressively and tried his best to keep himself quiet when their erections ground against each other through their pants. Heat erupted from the spot where they met. This time around, they lost each other in the contact, just barely keeping a reasonable volume for their noises of pleasure, which filled the otherwise empty room. Flint moved his hands to Volkner's torso, wrapping one around his shoulders to keep him close while the other teased one of his hardened nipples. He was hesitant at first, unsure if the other would enjoy it, but he got his answer when Volkner let out a soft cry into his mouth.

Feeling bold, Flint pulled away from the fevered kiss by about an inch. Satisfaction bloomed in his chest when he saw Volkner panting harshly from his ministrations. He looked up from the other man's swollen lips to brag, "I'll admit you're not bad at this, but I still think I'm better." To prove his point, Flint dove back down, running his tongue past Volkner's Adam's apple to latch his mouth onto the column of his throat once more. He sucked both sides in turn before dipping his tongue into the hollow of the man's throat. Before long, he could feel Volkner's blunt nails scraping harshly down his back. They didn't break the skin, but there would definitely be marks if anyone dared to look for them. Flint finished with a hard, possessive bite to the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He licked the mark gently and backed away from his handiwork with a confident smile to see that Volkner was muffling his cries by biting his knuckle, a look of heated pleasure on his face and a wild light in his eyes.

"Well? What do you think of that?" Flint declared proudly.

"What do I think? I actually think we should stop...at least for now," he panted.

Flint's face fell as he removed his arms from Volkner's body. "B-but...why?"

Volkner averted his eyes self-consciously. "Because these walls are thin and hickeys don't go away overnight."

"...Shit. You're right."

"Sleep?"

"Good idea."

Both turned in for the night in their separate beds, stubbornly ignoring their insistent erections until the fires in their veins cooled, choosing instead to focus on the possibilities Day Two of the competition held.

Is it obvious I had way too much fun coming up with the other team names?

Next chapter will be the last.