Obsidian and Plum: Unlikely Events
Chapter five – Anguish of misconception
According to Paul, it was now Thursday, so the storm had lasted for five days so far – since it started that is. To Ash's ears, it currently sounded less violent… so, hopefully it was passing. He'd woken up once already that morning, but had returned to sleep after an hour or so, and when he'd woken up again Paul had encouraged him to eat more soup.
Soup, it was all that his throat would allow him to swallow, and even that hurt. He just didn't have much of an appetite at all to be honest – if Paul wasn't basically forcing him to eat, he wouldn't haven't eaten period. That was strange for Ash, because he had an appetite close to that of a Snorlax and he never turned down food.
Ash noticed that Paul would only eat the trial mix, protein bars or noodles. He swore that they were his noodles, but he assumed Paul didn't want to eat the soup because it was all that Ash could eat, so it didn't bother him at all if they were his – he understood the situation they were in and he owed Paul his life. Ash found it rather sweet actually, that Paul was thinking about what he needed and adjusting the supplies accordingly.
Observing, that was all he'd been doing today so far. He'd been watching Paul – now that he wasn't delirious or whatever. His memories of the last few days were fuzzy, just random feelings, sounds, and blurry pieces of random memory. Observing and thinking in silence – because Paul still wasn't talking to him. It allowed him to try and clean up his mind, but he was still unwell, still feeling out of sorts.
Ash had also been working up the courage to outright ask Paul what his deal was, but it wasn't as easy as he thought it would be. Paul still didn't really say anything to him, and he was still sitting as far away as the cave would allow. Paul wouldn't even look at him unless he had to. Ash couldn't figure out what he'd done, maybe it was Paul being Paul, but… something still felt like it was more than that.
It was late afternoon before Ash finally built up the courage to say anything. So, after sitting in silence for ages, Ash bit the bullet and opened his mouth. "The weather seems quieter. Do you think it's dying down?" His voice was still hoarse and rough, and remembering how Paul had threatened to strangle him if he mentioned the weather, he was taking a risk.
Paul looked towards Ash sharply, then slowly turned his gaze towards the cave exit. "Perhaps. Now you mention it, it does seem to be pissing off finally – slowly."
"That's good right? Means we should be able to get out of here real soon." Ash smiled, hoping Paul was more up to talking then he'd been before. Paul still seemed like he had a stick up his arse, but that was just Paul's way, or so he hoped.
Paul just looked at him once and then closed his eyes again. Ash sighed as Paul just sat there in silence – his hands in his pockets and ignoring him again. "You really don't want to talk huh? Seriously, have I pissed you off or something?" Ash asked rather bluntly this time, feeling a little ashamed that Paul's ignorance was bothering him so much.
Paul's head shot up and he stared at Ash, he'd never heard the trainer swear before and it threw him. The Ash he knew had a childish temper sometimes, but no matter how much shit he'd thrown at the obsidian-haired trainer in the past, he'd still never heard the young man swear at him. Come to think of it, Ash hadn't even used that language against that 'Team rocket' when they'd tried to take his Pikachu. "Since when do you swear?" Was all Paul asked.
Ash assumed that Paul was avoiding his question. "Since I got stuck in a fucking storm and had my leg crushed by a tree maybe. Since I don't get why my only human companion refuses to talk to me, and just fucking sits there ignoring me." Ash rasped out, his last few words breaking as his voice strained before a coughing fit broke out.
"Trying to shout at me when you can't even talk straight – Idiot!" Paul scolded, trying to hide the concern in his voice and feelings by acting like he didn't care. He had to force himself to stay put, instead of rushing to his aid like his instincts wanted him to. Pikachu gave him daggers as the rat handed Ash a bottle of water, far too concerned and dotting on its trainer. Honestly though, Paul was glad that Pikachu was helping Ash because it meant that he didn't have to.
When Ash finally stopped coughing, he took the bottle of water from Pikachu and thanked him for it. Ash had noticed Paul's hidden concerned – even if he was hiding behind harsh words. That concern wouldn't have been obvious to many people, but… Ash had sniffed it out. It confused him even more though.
Taking a sip of his water – to please Pikachu more than anything, he wondered why Paul cared so much yet acted like he didn't care at all. It was there when Paul tensed up as he coughed up his lungs: there when he couldn't suppress the sounds that gave away his pain: there when Paul observed him closely: and there when Paul encouraged him to eat, drink and sleep. Paul would also help him sit up: help him shift closer to the trench when the urge hit: and he would check on his bandages to make sure the wound hadn't started bleeding again. Yet, anything else was met with snappy remarks and icy coldness, and with being ignored. It also hurt that Paul continued to sit as far away from him as possible – like he was contagious.
"What's your deal with me?" Ash demanded to know, deciding it was time to cut to the chase. "You could have left me out there to die, yet you didn't. You helped me Paul, and I know you care in your own weird way. You've done far more for me then you needed to do to feel obligate and fulfil your moral duties so you don't get a bad conscious. So why bother if you won't even talk to me?"
Paul was at a loss for words. Ash was right, he had tended to him much more then he'd needed to. He knew the reason behind that – the truth, but he wouldn't share that with Ash. Somehow Ash had started to realize that there was more to it, and that scared him – that fear was now hiding behind his growing anger however. "I don't want to waste my breath see, so I suggest you shut up!" Paul growled at him.
Ash was alarmed to be honest, but he was ready to have this argument – even if it strained his voice, made his throat hurt, or brought on more coughing fits. He was stubborn. He didn't really do logical first – he always followed his gut and thought about it later, and right now, his gut was telling him to keep going. "No Paul! I want to know why you won't stop acting like a dick when I know you aren't one." Ash stared at Paul, making it perfectly clear that he wouldn't back down from this.
"I'm warning you Ketchum –– drop it!" Paul growled through clenched teeth; his voice vibrated at the back of his throat.
Paul's anger should have scared Ash or riled him up… but it didn't. "I know there's something you're not telling me. If this was all because you just don't want to talk, you wouldn't be so worked up about it."
"Fuck you! You're right you know; I could have left you out there. If you want, I can take you back out there!" Paul threatened, shouting and causing Pikachu to spark in warning at him. Greninja even stood up at this point, about to protect Ash if Paul even tried to do such a thing.
Paul knew he had no intention of throwing Ash back out into the storm, he had far too many emotions involving the young man to ever hurt him in anyway physically. It was hurting him just arguing with the one person he wanted so badly but could never have, so there was no way he could risk the man's life just because he was afraid and frustrated.
Ash even knew that Paul wouldn't do something like that, so it didn't scare him – well, that and his pokémon wouldn't allow that to happen. Paul was looking after him, and from his vague – foggy memories, Paul had taken care of him almost like a mother would. Why do that if you hated the person – why go above and beyond for them if you didn't like them?
Ash remembered the way Paul had held him up gently, the way he softly moved his hair from his eyes and placed the damp cloth onto his head. Paul even checked his damn watch every half hour – to make sure he was drinking enough, and he fussed over his temperature far too much to be normal. The small things Paul did were more then moral duty – they were almost loving actions, and wasn't that absurd! There was no way in hell that Paul would love Ash in anyway shape or form – not even brotherly. They barely knew each other really, they were rivals – well, ex-rivals maybe, but still.
Ash liked Paul – for the most part anyway, and he'd always been adamant that there was more to him then that cold exterior. He'd always hoped that Paul would one day open up and talk to him, that they could become good friends. They had quite a decent amount of history together, and when they'd separated that last time it had been on good terms. They weren't friends like Ash had wanted, but he thought they were good at least – something amicable and just barely friendship. So, there was no way in hell that Paul would feel any sort of love for him. Paul was just being a dick, and he wanted to know why that was that case when he obviously cared for some reason.
"I know you wouldn't do that Paul, so stop acting like a dick!" Ash tried to shout, but the damn coughing struck again.
"I'm a dick? Like you said, I could have left you out there but I didn't. All I asked for in return, was that you shut the fuck up… but you had to go and ruin it didn't you." Paul shouted. He'd started shaking but he refused to move from his spot. He didn't want to argue with Ash, but the guy just kept pushing and pushing him. It hurt to be accused by Ash of all people, of being a dick.
As Ash continued to cough, Paul fought the desire to go to him and make sure he was okay. He felt guilty for stressing Ash out but he couldn't answer his questions without humiliating himself. He stood up and glared at Greninja – who was ready to stop him if he tried to approach his trainer in an aggressive manner, but Paul only wanted to get to his bag. He pulled out his cigarette packet – only two cigarettes left, but he popped one into his mouth and lit it. He went and sat by the exit – so that the smoke would go through the small gaps between the logs, and he greedily took a big draw of his cigarette.
Ash looked up once the coughing had finally subsided. He had to double look; it was the first time he'd seen Paul smoke, and yet… it only shocked him slightly. He felt a little bad that he'd stressed Paul out so much that the bloke needed to smoke though. He also wondered what he'd ruined? It made no sense to him. Unless Paul was referring to his peace and quiet?
Ash didn't say anything for a while. Greninja sat back down but he was still on alert, and Pikachu sat on Ash's lap almost protectively. Paul continued smoking – blowing the smoke out through the logs so it didn't cloud up the cave, and Ash could see his hands shaking slightly. He honestly couldn't understand why Paul was so stressed over this. What was he not telling him?
"I'm sorry okay! I just want to know what I've done to piss you off so much." Ash sighed.
"You won't shut up, that's what you've done!"
"You were pissed off with me before I even said anything." Ash pointed out, stroking his Pikachu in an attempt to remain calm.
"It's all about you isn't it? I don't want to talk! I'm frustrated and sick of this cave – that's all!" Paul glared.
"You're stressed and taking it out on me?" Ash asked dubiously, but Paul just gave him a look of frustration and annoyance. "What are you stressed about? Because it feels like it's my fault… and I don't like the silence Paul." Ash admitted, hoping he was getting through to the plum-haired man.
"None of your business, see!'' Paul snapped, then he quickly decided to calm his voice as he avoided the truth. "This whole situation is shit! I don't like being stuck doing nothing."
"Neither do I! But could you at least try to be a little more social?"
"I don't do social!" Paul told him bluntly.
"Well I don't like the quiet!" Ash snapped back. In truth, he just didn't believe Paul. It couldn't be the situation alone that had him so defensive. It was frustrating and boring in the cave, yes, but his anger and the way he was shaking implied there was more to it.
"You just don't know when to shut up do you." Paul snapped back, anger building again. Paul took it out on his cigarette – taking another greedy draw.
"I just want to know what's bothering you. We're stuck in this fucking cave together. At least tell me that. You care, I know you do, but you act like you don't and I don't get it."
Paul was quickly losing any patience he might have had left, and the nicotine wasn't enough to keep him calm. Ash was adding fuel to the fire, a fire that was burning inside of Paul who already held up a fucking torch where Ash was concerned – even if Ash didn't know it yet. Paul smoked the last of his cigarette, tossed the useless thing aside – It was a waste of a cigarette, and that only angered him further. He was ready to lose his shit – 'fuck it all'.
"I hate you! Happy?" Paul shouted, standing up abruptly but making no advances.
"What the fuck Paul? That's a lie and you know it!" Ash's attempt at shouting had triggered his coughing again. This time he noticed that Paul didn't seem to care either. Ash didn't believe that for a moment, but Paul's eyes were clear and steady expect for the anger, and they didn't indicate it was anything but the truth. Paul had kept him alive, and he'd done so with detail and care. You just didn't do that for someone you hated! Ash really hoped that Paul didn't mean what he was saying.
"It's the truth. I hate you see! I hate that I'm stuck in this fucking cave – stuck with the likes of you!" Paul's harsh words rung against the sudden silence that befell the cave.
Paul had drawn his anger from the twisted truth of his words. In Paul's heart he hated that Ash was Ash, and he couldn't have him. He hated that he was stuck in the same place with the one he wanted to avoid at all costs – to spare himself the emotional pain of craving what he couldn't have. His twisted words were so bloody true to him, that he had no issues saying them, but his heart almost gave out when he saw Ash's big brown eyes fill with tears. The fear and the hurt that stared up at him in total disbelief was almost crippling.
The fear of humiliation, the shame and guilt, all the emotions that Paul couldn't deal with – didn't know how to deal with, along with his damn mawkish and futile crush on the obsidian-haired trainer, made him angry and frustrated. Far too many of his suppressed emotions were drowning him like a broken dam, and he was scared, confused, panicked, and torn between fight and flight.
Ash shook his head when he finally stopped coughing. He looked up at Paul with disbelief as he felt tears pool in his eyes. Ash looked back down; he couldn't think of anything to say – he didn't even think he could speak even if he'd tried. His throat had been bad enough, but now it felt like a huge ball had been wedged there. He couldn't breathe right either, and a heavy weight was crushing his already painful chest. He didn't know why Paul hated him, and he didn't know why that knowledge hurt so damn much either. He'd never been hated before – not like this, and not by someone he wanted to become friends with… and to not even know why-
A small sob escaped Ash's lips and rocked from his diaphragm to his shoulders. Ash quickly covered his mouth – his face, trying to push the hurt back down, trying to suppress the pathetic sounds that were escaping his weaken and tired body. Pikachu tried to comfort him, but Ash just screwed his eyes as tightly shut as he could, and he begged his body to stop being so fucking ridiculous – to stop hurting.
Paul stood there and withered, he could almost hear his heart crash like a head-on car collision – raging along with speeding emotions, to suddenly come to a devastating halt. The sight before him was crushing him. He remembered something that he'd learnt the day his mother had died – life was short, you only got the one so it was pointless investing too much time on someone. He'd failed to heed that advice. He'd fallen so pathetically for the obsidian-haired trainer, invested too much in him, and now he was hurting again. Ash was also hurting because of him. The walls Paul had put around his own heart – preventing him from caring about anyone… well, they weren't thick enough to shield him from this. He didn't do social.
When Ash found the strength in his throat to speak, he looked up at Paul who still seemed so lost in thought. "W-What did I do Paul?" His hoarse voice cracked, tears threatening to overcome him and rain down his face once more.
Paul blinked and tried to recover his thoughts – thoughts that were overcome with emotions. He thought about Ash's question – what did Ash do?
'Ash is Ash, and that's that.' Ash is straight and I like cock, that's just the way it is.
'That's what you did Ash! You never even gave me a chance. Even if I was brave enough – or dumb enough to admit that I wanted you. You're straight damn it, and I hate you for that! I hate that you just being you, made me forget my own rules of investing in people, and you made me fall for you without even realising it!'
'But… It wasn't Ash's fault – not really. The world is cruel – a fucked-up schadenfreude, and I had to get trapped with him in a god-damn cave. It's pathetic, wanting something I can't have! I'm pathetic!'
Paul turned his head to the side, but said nothing as he stared at the ground.
"If you hate me so much then just tell me why!" Ash demanded.
The desperation in Ash's words were making Paul cave. Ash wanted to know so badly – was begging to know, and he could only react in defence and anger.
'I never had him to lose him in the first place. He never belonged to me – never would, so why am I scared of looking like the idiot when I don't give a shit about what people think? What does it matter if I look like a fucking fool, everyone can just piss off!'
"You really want to know?" Paul shouted at Ash, he was scared – hiding behind anger and reacting as if he had been slighted.
"Yes!" Ash tried to shout back, but his voice broke and cracked.
"You better be fucking sure about that!" Paul snapped. His fists clenched, his body shook, and his eyes tried to warn Ash that there was no going back.
"Just tell me why you hate me so much. What the fuck did I do!" Ash demanded, tears held at bay with his own anger and desire to know what he'd done. He was too stubborn, and once he wanted something he wouldn't back down or run from it, and he just had to know why.
Ignoring Greninja, as the pokémon stood to stop him approaching its trainer, Paul moved quickly to Ash's side. He even ignored Pikachu's warning sparks too, and fell down to his knees over the obsidian-haired trainer – startling the electric pokémon in the process. With Ash's thighs between his knees, he grabbed the back of Ash's head and clenched at the thick tufts of black hair with one hand. A brief moment of hesitation as he stared into shocked and fearful brown eyes… before slamming his lips onto Ash's.
Ash's eyes blew wide open in a mixture of shock, confusion, and slight fear – Paul was kissing him! He'd thought of hundreds of reasons why Paul hated him, but this… this was something he'd never, in a million years, would have ever predicted. He didn't even understand how Paul kissing him explained why he hated him. You didn't kiss people you hated! You kissed people you loved – or at least wanted to love, so it was baffling and awkwardly unexpected.
He knew he was dense and oblivious to many things, but he'd gotten better over the past few years. In fact, Bonnie had once told him that he was oblivious to girls that liked him – that wanted to be his girlfriend. She had spelled it out to him that Serena wanted to be his girlfriend because she had kissed him. Paul wasn't a girl though, so unless… Was Paul gay?
The penny dropped. Paul had to be gay, why else would he kiss a man – him? Did that mean Paul wanted to be his girl- no… Boyfriend?
Ash was too shocked to respond to the kiss, even when Paul suckled at his lip and it felt good. Paul soon moved back, but he took one look at Ash's shocked face and fled the cave in a rush. Well… it was a bit awkward to storm out, because Paul had to move the logs and then put them back first.
Ash just sat there gaping though, watching Paul until he'd left. That was when Ash realised, Paul had gone out into the storm with nothing but the clothes he was wearing. Luckily, the fire had stayed burning, and the winds didn't seem as bad, but Ash was still worried about Paul's safety despite what had just transpired.
"Greninja, go find Paul! He didn't even take his pokémon with him, he could get hurt out there."
Greninja nodded, and left with more grace and agility than Paul did – removing only a couple of the long logs, jumping through the gap, and replacing them before dashing off.
Ash tried to reassure Pikachu that he was okay, but the truth was, he felt like crap. His eyes stung, his head pounded, his mind was spinning, his chest hurt, his leg throbbed as the pain medication wore off, and his emotions were unbalanced and acting up. He was overreacting, and he blamed both his predicament, and the situation he was in for his uncharacteristic behaviour.
He couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Paul had just kissed him though. He wasn't an idiot, but he just couldn't piece together this puzzle – too many pieces were missing. Was Paul actually gay? Was this some sort of sick joke? Did Paul like him that way? Did Paul really hate him?
The kiss itself was just as baffling to him. When Serena had kissed him, he'd felt nothing but embarrassment at being put on the spot. He hadn't known what to do, how to react, or what it meant. But when Paul had kissed him… he felt something amidst the fear and the shock, something like Butterfrees dancing in the pit of his stomach. If he hadn't been so shocked, maybe he would have acted on impulse and kissed him back. It was the first time in his life that he had ever considered kissing someone, and that was what had him so mystified.
Ash didn't really like the idea of anything relationship wise – and he'd never really considered it much to be honest. His dad had left to be a pokémon trainer – according to his mother, and he'd never returned. Relationships therefore, were never something he'd ever wanted because his parents never made it look like anything special.
He may have been as dense as fuck – people were always reminding him of that, but he wasn't completely oblivious to the fact that girls liked him and maybe in ways beyond friendship. He never really gave them a second thought, and he chose to ignore them – remain oblivious. He never felt attracted to any of them. He enjoyed traveling and making new friends, yes, but not being tied down to one person with all the drama that came with it.
No, he liked doing what he wanted, going where he wanted, and if he couldn't even remember to call his own mother like she wanted, how was he in any position to have a girlfriend. The thought of girls in that way just didn't feel right either. He was too wrapped up in being a free spirit. His pokémon revolving life was his to own; meeting new pokémon and battling in pokémon battles.
Now however, for the first time in his life, he couldn't stop thinking about a kiss. The kiss that Paul had just burnt onto his lips. He traced his thumb over them, still tasting Paul and the lingering smoky odour from the man's latest cigarette. Wasn't smoking meant to be disgusting? He was sure it wasn't meant to taste like this, but he wanted to try the kissing thing again – he wanted to taste Paul again, because beneath everything he'd felt, there was something warm and fuzzy about it, something addicting and forbiddenly appealing.
As Ash lay there hoping Paul was alright, he kept playing over what had happened. There was something else bothering him though… was he gay?
He didn't care if others were gay, and in fact, he didn't think he cared much if he was. What he worried about though, was what his mother would think – but he come to a rather quick conclusion that she wouldn't mind as long as he was happy, he was sure of it. But… if he was gay, it was a piece of himself that he never knew, never even suspected until now. That was a whole new can of worms opened up right there. How could he not have noticed that about himself? Was he really that dense, or just oblivious and not interested? He would have to figure it out and fast.
Ash drove himself crazy for the next hour or two, thinking about everything:
The transpired and unlikely events over the past week: winning the Veil conference: the storm he'd been stupid enough to try and out run: getting injured and dealing with the illness he was still battling: being stuck with Paul of all people: and now that kiss.
It had all taken its toll on him. Not to mention discovering that he might be gay, and worrying about the guy that kissed him – the guy that had stormed out into a lethal storm, probably because he hadn't said anything to the plum-haired man or done anything in response to said kiss.
The exhaustion and stress on his body, and the fact that his brain had been over thinking on a constant loop, caused him to fall asleep mid thoughts.
The storm had abated slightly – proof that it was moving on, but by no means was it over; the rain still hammered down with its heavy droplets, and the wind was still strong enough to blow away anything that weighed less than twenty pounds, but at least it had passed its apex point and was slowly waning.
Paul was soaked – his wet clothes now a second skin against his cold flesh. He knew he had to go back – and he would, but it was painful and arduous. His internal argument was mainly between necessity and avoidance of further anguish – self-preservation. He didn't want to go back, but he had too… and soon.
He was thankful for the rain, because for the first time in nearly ten years he'd cried. He hadn't broken down and sobbed, nor had he made pathetic noises like that of a spoilt child who'd dropped their ice cream, but he'd shed tears. It had been futile trying to stop them falling, trying to keep them at bay, because no matter how hard he'd squeezed his eyes or tried to suppress his emotions, they had still fallen. They had fallen without his permission and he hated it! He hated that he'd allowed himself to be weak – to cry over something as stupid as rejection. It was bloody ridiculous, and fucking pathetic. At least the rain hid the evidence of his tears.
It was only when Greninja had found him, and his anger took hold once again, that the tears ceased to fall entirely.
Greninja refused to leave Paul alone, following him and ignoring his demands to, "piss off". He'd yelled at the pokémon then – demanding to know why he'd bothered to follow him at all, and when Greninja confirmed that it had been Ash that had sent him, he felt his anger rise like bubbles in a boiling pan.
He couldn't believe Ash had the fucking audacity to send Greninja after him, especially when the dickhead had made him confess his feelings just to stare at him like he was a sick fuck. It hurt, and Paul never expected it to hurt this bad. He was pissed at Ash, angry at Greninja, and angry at himself… hell, he was even angry at the world and its fucked-up weather. Paul punched a tree and growled in frustration. It had startled Greninja, but the damn pokémon stayed calm and poised.
Paul looked down in defeat at his bleeding knuckles… and he caved, exhausted and beat. He looked over at the water type pokémon, its arms crossed over its chest as it stood against another tree. Greninja nodded his head once – as if it understood, and then Paul started to walk back towards the cave. The pain in his hand wasn't enough to numb his emotions… but it helped.
Arriving back at the cave, Paul hesitated for a moment before going inside to face the music. It was with some relief that he found Ash asleep – still sitting up against the log behind him. He was grateful that he didn't have to deal with the trainer's questions or insults, but he still had to see something he would never be able to have.
The worst part; he was the only one that Ash had right now. He would have to continue playing nurse maid until rescue arrived; he could never abandon Ash in the condition he was in, no matter how much it hurt being in such close proximity to the young man.
Paul re-dressed in dry clothes after towelling himself dry, warming up gradually by the fire. Ash was still sleeping in his upright position, and Paul didn't want the young man waking up with pain in his back or neck – Ash had enough pain to deal with.
Hesitating a few times, and taking a deep breath – he bravely moved Ash's sleeping form until the young man was laying down.
He may have been frustrated and hurt, but he wouldn't take it out on Ash any more then he had too – to keep his emotions locked up where they belonged, and to protect himself from emotional pain. He hid his feelings behind condescending or bitter attitude, and more often than not, used anger as a shield so he wouldn't be hurt, and so that people couldn't use his feelings against him. Being cold, uncaring, and indifferent … they were tools Paul used to push people away –– he didn't need people getting in his way. He didn't make attachments. He didn't do social. It was safer that way.
Greninja and Pikachu, watched Paul as he carefully rested their trainer's head down on the pillow and zipped up the sleeping bag. Greninja stopped Pikachu from giving Paul a hard time, and Paul secretly thanked the water pokémon for that. The last thing he needed, was to be told off by an electric know-it-all rodent.
Ash didn't wake up, in fact, he barely stirred at all. Although Paul was grateful for that fact, it also indicated that Ash was still very unwell, and Paul found himself feeling guilty for his actions. He'd been a jerk, but Ash had demanded that he came clean about something he never wanted to admit in the first place. If Ash was well enough to outright make demands, then he had to deal with the outcome.
Paul went and sat down against the wall of the cave – the furthest away from Ash that he possibly could, and stared at his injured knuckles. He wasn't looking forward to what came next when Ash finally woke up, but at least he had more time to prepare for that. Whatever happened, he would have to accept that Ash would never be his, and this was one thing he couldn't have. He'd always known that, but he'd never understood his own obsession with the obsidian-haired trainer, and he'd never had to accept the cutting finality of never. A part of him had obviously, and subconsciously, always held onto the idea of Ash one day accepting him like a foolish dream. It was pathetic!
It was now crystal clear however, evident from the unreciprocated kiss he'd forced onto Ash, that Ash wasn't gay. He'd always known that fact, and the look of disgust and shock on Ash's face after that failed kiss had only confirmed it. Ash would never return his affections. All he could do now was wait out the last of the storm, power through Ash's reaction when he woke up with his mask firmly in place, wait until rescue arrived, and then they could go their separate ways and never see each other again.