Secrets Kept

Only about half the length of the last two chapters but here's another!

I hate to beg but… review? Please? I know I hardly ever update anymore but seeing reviews for the story really helps to muster up the motivation to work on future chapters.

Thanks to pokemaster101 for the reviews!

Chapter Nineteen

Though they had shared a number of small kisses – no more than pecks, really – they were both startled by the sheer rightness they felt with this kiss. Their lips seemed to fit together perfectly, their movements falling into a rhythm that was unhurried yet seemed to convey a level of passion that caught both off guard.

It felt right.

They had each wanted to do exactly this for so long that it was almost a relief to finally do it. For Gary it was a sort of validation that he hadn't realized he had not only wanted, but needed. It was one thing to always hear that there was nothing wrong with him for liking other males – it was so much different for someone to actually show it. The feeling of someone's lips pressing so gently against his flesh and moving so deftly against his own sent a wave of appreciation through him.

The fact that it was Tracey and not just some other guy made the moment that much better and, drunk or not, upset or not, Gary could do nothing other than pour all of his emotions into the kiss and hope that Tracey somehow recognized how much this moment meant to him. Tracey responded to the emotion, feeding off the desperation that Gary was putting into the kiss and pouring all of his pent up frustrations with him into the kiss.

Finally, it was possible to get everything out without risking an argument. The noise from downstairs seemed to fade away and, for the moment, it was just them.

The moment, however, didn't last long. Though they didn't hear the footsteps on the stairs, they did hear Arcanine's soft growl as he greeted someone, followed by May's unmistakable voice.

"For Heaven's sake, Arcanine; does Gary have you guarding the hallway?"

They broke apart at the sound of her voice, each fighting the urge to roll his eyes. It seemed impossible for anything to happen uninterrupted between them. May disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her and causing both boys to give a small sigh of relief.

Unable to help himself, Gary rested his head against Tracey's shoulder and promptly burst into laughter. Tracey shook his head but laughed softly, continuing to run his fingers through Gary's hair, as he had been doing since before they had begun kissing.

"You're impossible," Tracey muttered fondly, listening closely for the bathroom door to open. "I don't think you should be allowed to drink anymore." Though his tone was light, he was only partially joking.

Gary's laughter faded but he made no effort to move. "Thank you, Tracey," he said softly after a moment.

Tracey smiled and pressed a kiss against his forehead. He didn't need to ask to know what Gary was thanking him for. "I meant every word," he replied just as softly, gently pushing Gary away as the bathroom door opened and May emerged.

The older girl crossed the hallway to Tracey's door and leaned casually against the frame. "You wouldn't happen to know what happened to that brand new bottle of Listerine, would you?" she asked nonchalantly. Though she moved with as much grace as usual, her pink cheeks and slightly louder than usual voice belied her own intoxication.

"Marill knocked it over," Tracey replied without missing a beat. The little blue pokemon, who had been curled up against the pillow the whole time, hopped to his feet with an indignant little squeak that made May laugh. "I forgot to close it when I got in the shower and Marill was playing in the sink. Most of it went down the drain before I could get to it," Tracey continued with an apologetic glance at his pokemon, who puffed up irately.

Gary gave a small laugh and reached over to pet the little mouse on the head, only for Marill to bat his hand away with its little paws. Ignoring the irritated gesture, Gary laughed again and patted Marill's furry head, eliciting yet another angry squeak. Noticing how annoyed his pokemon was, Tracey reached over and swatted Gary's hand away.

"He's going to use Water Gun on you if you keep bugging him," Tracey warned him pointedly.

"He's going to use it on you since you sold him out," Gary retorted with a grin.

At this point, May sighed, seeming to have realized just how inebriated her brother was. "You need to drink some water and lay down," she said to Gary. "Come on, bed," she pressed as Gary rolled his eyes at her.

"I've got it, May," Tracey interrupted before May could enter and drag Gary from the room. "Go back down to the party, I'll make sure he goes to bed."

May shook her head but left without another word, leaving the two boys alone once again. As soon as she was gone, Marill began a barrage of angry squeaks at his trainer which only made Gary laugh again. Tracey ignored Gary and turned to placate his pokemon.

"I had to lie to her, Marill, she would have asked too many questions if we told her the truth," he explained steadily, reaching out to place a calming hand on the mouse's head. "I'll make it up to you – we'll go to the beach when the professor gets back. You can play with Umbreon in the waves. Maybe Gary will even let you go on his surfboard," he suggested, glancing over at his friend.

"I still need to get a new leash," Gary mused to himself, finally stopping laughing.

Tracey grimaced at his words. He had forgotten that the leash on Gary's board had been broken off in order to be used as a makeshift tourniquet when Wyatt had been injured weeks earlier. Regardless of the sudden tension from his trainer, Marill brightened at the promise and nuzzled Tracey's hand before rubbing his face against Gary's hand with a sweet chirp that was usually reserved for begging for food. With a final squeak the appeased pokemon bounced back over to the pillow and curled up again.

Gary smiled at Marill's sudden happiness but soon sighed and flopped back on Tracey's bed. "I need to figure out what to do about Amanda," he groaned.

"Don't worry about it tonight," Tracey replied, grasping Gary's hand and pulling him back up. "We'll talk about it tomorrow at some point. May's right though, we need to get you some water and get you to bed. You've had way too much to drink tonight."

It took a few minutes but Tracey eventually got Gary to his own room with minimal whining. He left Arcanine and Umbreon in Gary's room with simple orders: until morning, Gary was only allowed in bed or in the bathroom. The two canines would stop him if he tried doing anything else. Considering how easily Gary had stripped down to his boxers and gotten into bed, even falling asleep before Tracey could make it back to the room with a bottle of water, Tracey doubted it would be an issue.

Confident that there wouldn't be any problems during the night, Tracey headed back to his own room and closed the door behind him. He rested his forehead against the door and closed his eyes for a moment, wondering just how he was going to get through the next day. He had purposely set the alarm on Gary's alarm clock ahead two hours, leaving Tracey entirely on his own in the morning. Without those two extra hours of sleep, Tracey figured Gary would be as good as useless for most of the morning, if not part of the afternoon as well.

His mind drifted to the kisses he and Gary had shared and he sighed softly, shaking his head as he turned and headed back to his bed. The moments they had shared together had been undeniably wonderful but Tracey couldn't shake the feeling that he had taken advantage of his friend being so drunk and so upset. He tried to remind himself over and over that they had already kissed, or come close to it, several times in the past few months. The attraction between them was palpable to both of them and he could tell Gary wanted it as much as he did. The mutual attraction and affection towards each other was indisputable but he just couldn't help coming back to the same thought no matter how long he tossed and turned that night.

I shouldn't have kissed him.

… … …

The next morning was beautiful with clear blue skies and not a cloud in sight. The sun shone brightly, filling all of the rooms in the Oak house with natural light, which was unfortunate for Gary, who had neglected to close the curtains in his bedroom the night before. He woke, perhaps two minutes before the alarm clock went off, to the brilliant mid-morning light flooding his room. The bright light did nothing to alleviate the pounding headache he felt and, unable to think of anything better to do, he rolled over and buried his head under two of the pillows on his bed. It had been months since he had last experienced a headache this bad and if he had it his way, he wouldn't be leaving his room until it was dark again.

The alarm began beeping shrilly only a minute later, proving to be perhaps one of the only things that could have possibly made Gary's headache worse. Groaning loudly, he covered his ears and hoped it would stop on its own. The beeping continued for nearly a minute, each beep only making things worse: the nausea that Gary had felt upon waking was increasing as his head throbbed more and he wondered for a moment if he would have to run to the bathroom to throw up before the alarm stopped.

Finally, a curse came from next to him and a figure leaned over to irritably flick the off switch. "Idiot," Darren's annoyed voice muttered as Gary felt his best friend settle back on his side of the bed. The bed shifted again a moment later when Darren reached over and sleepily punched his arm. "Lab," was all he said in response to Gary's muffled curse.

"You go if it's so important," Gary grumbled, stubbornly maintaining his position under the pillows.

"Your responsibility," Darren retaliated. "Not my fault you're a lightweight."

Still grumbling tiredly, Gary slowly rolled over and rested a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sunlight filling the room. The room felt as though it was spinning and he had to wait until he was certain he could speak without vomiting before replying. "I'm not a lightweight, I just didn't eat much yesterday."

Darren shrugged as best as he could while lying on his side and didn't even open his eyes. "Then it's going to suck to be you in a few minutes," he muttered, smiling despite his own hangover.

With his nausea building and the room continuing to spin, Gary had a feeling he knew what his friend was hinting at but he still asked, "Why?"

"You had tequila last night," Darren said as though it explained everything.

Carefully keeping his eyes closed against the sunlight, Gary slowly sat up. Despite trying to avoid any movements that would jar his stomach, he could feel it churn at the mention of alcohol.

As though he were aware of Gary's struggle with his stomach, Darren continued speaking. "You always puke your guts the next morning whenever you have tequila."

He had barely finished his sentence before Gary was out the door and down the hall. He laughed even though he felt bad hearing his best friend retch in the bathroom. Were their roles reversed, he knew Gary would be doing the exact same thing… before bringing him a bottle of water and offering to make him some toast, if only because he knew the mention of food would make his stomach churn even more. With a groan, Darren opened his eyes and spied the unopened bottle of water Tracey had left on the dresser for Gary the night before. Although all he really wanted to do was go back to sleep, he forced himself to his feet, grabbed the bottle of water, and headed down the hallway to the bathroom.

In the bathroom, Gary had been able to do little more than spit up a few mouthfuls of bile while his empty stomach spasmed painfully. He could hear Darren's footsteps coming down the hall as he fought to regain control over his body. It took a few minutes, but the painful dry heaving eventually stopped and Gary was able to rest his forehead against the cool surface of the bathtub, breathing heavily and shaking all the while.

Gary closed his eyes as the bathroom door opened slowly and Darren rolled the bottle of water from the bedroom across the floor to him. "I'm not going to puke on you," he groaned hoarsely, warily opening the bottle and taking a small sip. The small amount of water soothed his throat and helped calm his stomach a bit but he was nowhere near ready to leave the bathroom.

"May's tenth birthday party," Darren replied, stepping into the room and turning on the water to wash his face.

Gary smiled faintly, taking another sip of water. "That's why you should never have an ice cream eating contest with Ash."

"Or sit next to someone who did on a long car ride," Darren added, shooting a glare at Gary as he leaned back against the counter and pulled the hair tie from his long hair. "That's definitely in the top three worst experiences of my life," he reminisced with a scowl as he gathered his hair into a messy ponytail and wound the elastic back around it.

"Hey, at least we answered the question… Cotton candy flavored ice cream does turn puke blue." Gary laughed weakly at the disgusted expression that crossed Darren's face. The laugh quickly turned to a groan as his stomach clenched uncomfortably in protest.

"You deserve every bit of pain you get," Darren shot back, his disgusted expression turning amused. "Want me to get you something to eat? Toast, maybe some scrambled eggs? I know you love the smell of cooking eggs, especially with a hangover," he teased, smirking in a near-perfect imitation of Gary. Gary normally couldn't stand the smell of cooking eggs but the smell coupled with a hangover could send him bolting to the bathroom.

Unfortunately for Gary, his stomach chose this moment to reprise its painful spasms and he found himself leaning over the toilet to vomit up the little bit of water he had drank. "Go fuck yourself," he managed to choke out between retching and dry heaving.

Darren simply shook his head and turned to leave the bathroom. "I'm going to go find something to wear. Let me know if you change your mind on those scrambled eggs," he called over his shoulder has he left the room.

Ignoring the remaining nausea and the pain in his stomach, Gary leaned across the bathroom to push the door closed as soon as Darren was out the door. The sudden movement jarred his stomach, intensifying the pain that had come from all of the retching to the point where he had to lie down on the floor. Groaning loudly, Gary closed his eyes and covered them with his hands to block out every bit of light.

"I'm never drinking again," he muttered as he waited to recover enough to stand up.

He had to wonder exactly how much he had managed to drink the night before, especially considering he hadn't intended on ever getting past buzzed in the first place. As he lay there on the tile floor, he thought back to the night before, trying to remember what he had done to get himself so very hung over. He remembered being quite tipsy in the shower before napping for a bit.

May had gotten him to drink when he went down to the kitchen for food. He had tried being good, having only a soda with a splash of rum in it with a few slices of pizza and a handful of potato chips. He vaguely remembered one of his friends (he couldn't recall if it was Brandon or Chase, though it might have been both in two separate instances) insisting on doing a shot of an amber-colored drink that tasted strongly of cinnamon. Darren had mentioned tequila but hadn't he had vodka with his long-haired mischievous friend? Maybe it had been tequila and he just couldn't taste the difference after that cinnamon shit...

On second thought, hadn't it been Mike and Chase he had done shots of tequila with? Mike was the one who liked tequila, after all.

At some point he had gone outside and Amanda had joined him... That was about as much as he remembered. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't remember anything past Amanda joining him outside.

She had flirted with him... Granted, she always did that, so he may have just been assuming that she did so.

Vaguely he recalled May saying something about drinking water and going to bed. Maybe she had been with Amanda and they had been the ones to get him to go to bed?

It certainly seemed possible, and it would explain why he couldn't remember anything else.

Satisfied that he knew all that had happened (the important stuff, at least), Gary relaxed a bit and folded his arms behind his head, waiting for his stomach to finish calming down. He slowly stood a few minutes later and leaned against the counter. His head was still pounding but his stomach seemed to have stopped waging war with the rest of his body. Cursing under his breath, he set about getting ready for the day – he had already wasted enough of the morning as it was.

With his clothes in his bedroom, he couldn't get entirely ready but he washed his face, took some aspirin and some of May's ginger anti-nausea pills, and drank half of the remaining water in the water bottle Darren had brought in. He hesitated before heading back to his bedroom, debating on whether to brush his teeth or just rinse his mouth with the mouthwash. He would have preferred brushing, but that act had a tendency to irritate the gag reflex that only came up when he was particularly hung over. With Tracey having been alone in the lab all morning, Gary figured it probably was best not to risk spending another ten minutes with his head over the toilet. He instead reached for the bottle of mouthwash but paused mid-reach.

The bottle had been close to full the day before but now was nearly empty. Gary lowered his hand as flickers of memories began to come back to him.

"Marill knocked it over," he remembered Tracey saying.

Except it hadn't been Marill at all. It had been Gary.

Now he could remember rinsing his mouth out repeatedly, but why? He had felt disgusted about something… Had he thrown up? No, he wouldn't have been heaving over a toilet off and on for the last half hour if he had been sick the night before.

It was definitely after he had left Amanda in the backyard. Gary closed his eyes and tried to summon up the memory of whatever it was that had done it. Amanda had joined him by the pool, she had flirted and trailed her fingers over his body, he had pointed out the constellations to her, and then…

And then she had kissed him.

Gary's eyes snapped open as he remembered. He had kissed her back. They made out and then he left her outside and ran up here in disgust.

Then why did Tracey say that Marill did it?

Without warning, the events that happened in the older teen's bedroom came flooding back to him. Gary could feel his stomach drop as dread filled him.

He heaved a sigh and closed his eyes, slowly sliding down the wall to sit on the cold tile as he remembered. He remembered telling Tracey about Amanda, expressing his fear of having to tell Darren and May, his panic as he had remembered that Amanda was still dating Wyatt, his despondency as he feared his closest friends – his brothers, essentially – hating him.

Most of all, Gary remembered the kisses he and Tracey had shared.

He remembered Tracey's kind words and the feel of his calloused hands against his face. He remembered the soft press of Tracey's lips on his own and how perfect it had felt to kiss him back.

It had felt so unbelievably right, yet it filled Gary with a deep stab of pain as he leaned his head back against the bathroom wall and tried to figure out what to do next. He sat for innumerable minutes wondering how on Earth he was going to face Tracey today but one thought kept tearing into him over and over again.

I should never have let it go this far.

… … …