Obsidian and Plum: Unlikely Events
Chapter six – Faults of assumption

The whistling winds had abated to a repetitive shushing sound as it danced with the leaves, and the rain had reduced to a heavy drumming. Paul listened as he sat against the cave wall, the scent of damp forest air was carried in on the draughts between the logs, reaching his nose in gentle brushes of nature's welcome. He always did enjoy that after storm scent; it was peaceful and on time; always there after a storm; inevitable and something he could trust. The storm was finally abating, that scent he enjoyed would fill the region in its wake, but it was still clinging on with all it had.

Greninja had gone outside – for what Paul had no idea nor interest, but he was left alone with a certain obsidian-haired trainer and an electric rodent. Luckily, Ash and Pikachu were both sleeping, and he relished the quiet, but it was the approaching storm inside the cave that bothered him – the one edging closer as the minutes ticked down until Ash woke up.

Paul had contemplated packing up his belongings and leaving now that the winds were less violent, but the storm was moving in the same bloody direction that he needed to travel. His conscience had also put him through the wringer, beating down on him with threats of painful regret should he leave.

No matter how much he wanted to avoid being questioned, if rescue didn't come for Ash soon the trainer would be left alone for far too long. Paul knew that leaving Ash alone would be immensely cruel, more so then even he could live with. Ash could barely move on his own, needed assistance for the most basic human needs, and Ash's pokémon wouldn't be a suitable replacement for him – no matter how doting or intelligent they were.

Despite everything, he still had amorous feelings towards Ash Ketchum. He'd previously labelled it as a futile and pathetic crush… but it was more than that. It was a battle he couldn't win either way, and being unable to ignore or push down those feelings agitated him more than anything else.

He was a master at numbing his heart and doing what was logical – intelligent even. Idiots and fools let emotions control their actions, or impede one's judgement. He'd learnt the hard way that emotions only lead to pain, and he'd let emotions override his brain like a fool. He'd acted on an impulse ruled by his feelings, and the consequences of that had made him weak – crying over a nineteen-year-old boy that irritated him most of the time, and ultimately, he'd gotten hurt.

He hated Ash for being straight, and for putting himself in a situation where they had gotten stuck together in a cave. It was Ash's fault, that he was obsessed with him anyway – that he was attracted to the obsidian-haired man. For one, Ash never left him alone; he was always happy to greet him – even when Paul tried to be hostile, angry, or acted cold and unimpressed. Most people in Paul's life never gave him a second glance – writing him off as a jerk, but not Ash.

Never Ash.

Ash's voice: "It's Paul!" –– "Paul, where are you going?" –– "Face it, we work as a team. That's what tag partners do!" –– "Not so fast Paul, let's have a battle. I wanna show you how strong we've gotten." –– "Are you going?" –– "Hey Paul!" –– "Good luck Paul!"

Ash never quit, never got out of his way, and the obsidian-haired trainer always seem to see right through the wall he'd put up and maintained with a passion. Ash had forced himself into his path, awoke and defrosted his locked up dormant heart, and then crushed it with his sexual orientation and obliviousness.

Paul glanced over at Ash and sighed. The young man was infuriatingly stubborn, jovial, and always adamant of his childish ideals. Somehow, he always proved Paul wrong, and he would go above and beyond to prove his ideals were correct. Ash proved himself with such a fiery passion, that Paul couldn't help but admire him for it, especially when Ash achieved what he'd set out to do.

Watching Ash sleep, it used to be calming in a way, but now it just felt like a ticking bomb. Ash was still the definition of eye-candy to him – even in this situation, and It was hard not to become aroused as he stared across the cave at the sleeping young man.

The flames of the fire created shadows over tanned skin – highlighting his chin, his nose, and his brow. That thick obsidian hair seemed darker by contrast – hair that he wanted to pull back as he devoured those soft cherry lips in a returned fiery battle of tongues.

Paul's broken inhale was almost a gasp. A shudder ran through his body, twitching below his waist band, and making him shift his legs. Paul looked away and cursed himself; no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't stop winding himself up. Now to add to his sexual frustration, he was trying to resist the urge to relieve his awaking cock – to ignore it once again.

More than five days without so much as a wank, stuck with the one person that sexually frustrated you to hell and back, it was enough to drive any man insane.

It had been hours since Ash was last awake. Usually, Paul would disturb his sleep every hour or so, encouraging him to drink more water and take his medication when it was due. He was letting his own feelings affect Ash's health now, but he wanted to avoid conflict for as long as possible. He was fighting an internal battle – to wake Ash up now or not. When he finally grew a set of balls, about to get up and attend to the young man, the man in question moaned in pain as he blinked his eyes open – wincing.

Paul's heart leapt into his throat. Uneasy, anxious, and dreading the inevitable, Paul sat there frozen stiff. He knew he had to move – he had to be mature and look after Ash until rescue came. He wished their help would appear outside right now though, and maybe If he just sat there long enough – waited a few seconds longer, maybe they would appear… any second now…

As Paul sat there, with the ridiculous hope that by some miracle he would be relieved of his carer duties at any moment now, Ash's futile attempts at muffling his pain elicited sounds were worrying Pikachu. Paul could tell that Ash was in a lot of pain and discomfort, and It forced him to get up off his arse. He just couldn't bear listening to Ash in pain like that and do nothing about it.

"Paul." Ash whispered, with such relief that it confused the plum haired man.

'Ash wasn't angry at him – disgusted – he was relieved? No, most likely he was only relieved because he hadn't been abandoned to suffer alone in his condition. He hadn't been left in his vulnerable and precarious state.' Paul concluded – that Ash was relieved to still have his 'carer' and not for any other reason.

Ash stayed silent while Paul helped him to take his medication, get into a more comfortable position, and eat his soup. Paul could feel brown eyes burning into him as he moved around the cave, and when he was eating ramen noodles. Even Pikachu, who was sitting next to Ash eating the trail mix Paul had given him, was quiet. He was thankful for Ash's lack of words, but the silence wasn't a comfortable one. The air inside the cave felt foreboding almost, uneasy and awkward.

Once their food had been eaten, the cave became so quiet that it amplified the crackling of the fire, and the commotion of the storm outside. Every time Ash's body rocked with violent coughing fits, it was comparable to a baby wailing on a plane; Pikachu and Paul would both turn their heads to observe Ash, but everyone in the cave was clueless as to what to say.

Ash didn't like the idea of leaving things the way they were. He didn't understand why Paul hated him – it bothered him a lot more then it probably should have. He was thankful however, that Paul had come back and hadn't left him behind. He didn't know what he'd have done if he'd been left alone with just his Pokémon. No matter what had ticked Paul off, the plum-haired man still seemed to care about his well-being.

Even though Paul wasn't talking to him, at least he was still there – at least he was safe. Ash could also admit to himself, that he was grateful Paul had kissed him in a way, because it had not only started him questioning his own sexuality, but it also meant that Paul had tried to tell him something. He just had to figure out what that something was.

Ash knew Paul enough to know that he never wore his emotions on his sleeve – well, except for anger, frustration and annoyance. And even though he still didn't understand what Paul kissing him actually meant, he suspected he knew. He suspected that Paul was gay, and he either wanted to be Ash's boyfriend or he just really wanted to fuck someone. Either way, he had to know! He had to talk to Paul.

"Thank-you Paul." Ash smiled over at him, trying to be sensitive and proceed with caution.

Paul on the other hand, heard Ash's hoarse, pained voice, but he didn't know what to say. What was Ash thankful for – the kiss? He doubted it: The food? Maybe: Being his carer? Most likely. When he didn't move or make any effort to respond, Ash opened his mouth but closed it again quickly – like a Magikarp gulping for air.

Ash tried to think of his next words carefully. He didn't want Paul to run away like a scared Rattata, or close up like a Kakuna and then start yelling at him like an angry Beedrill. Paul's tongue was just as poisonous as the bug type's stinger.

Ash had to stifle a chuckle at the thought, he'd been around pokémon and Professor Oak too much – he was starting to compare everything to pokémon and Paul had fallen victim to his habit. Paul was now a Beedrill in Ash's mind. A tough angry outer laced with poison, but deep down there was still a cute – fairly harmless, little Weedle under his closed Kakuna layer.

Paul glanced up and saw Ash trying to hide his humour about something; it confused and angered him, because he assumed that Ash just considered this whole situation a joke – saw him as a joke. It only caused him to close up more, determined to hide his emotions and appear indifferent.

When Ash snapped out of his Paul–Beedrill thoughts, he decided to try and initiate conversation once more. "I mean it Paul, Thank-you… for everything." Ash smiled again, gently biting his bottom lip.

Paul regarded Ash curiously – bemused by his words. Despite Ash's pale skin, his nose – red-hued with flu, the illness evident in those half-closed eyes, and the way he winced in pain at random intervals… it was a genuine smile. Ash was honestly thankful – for everything apparently. Paul just couldn't work out if everything, included the kiss. What exactly did Ash mean by everything?

"Everything?" Paul drawled dubiously; his voice barely reached Ash's ears, but Ash must have heard him, because the obsidian-haired trainer held his eyes for a moment before slowly nodding his head.

Ash saw Paul gulp, his Adams apple moved and he suddenly found himself lost in Paul's features. Clear tanned skin, framed by shoulder length – plum hair: A slightly stubble touched jaw – leading down to a pointed chin; broad shoulders hidden under that two toned, black and purple jacket.

Ash suddenly found himself curious as to what lay underneath that jacket and t-shirt. He couldn't decide because he hadn't seen a lot of shirt-less men; hadn't paid attention to any of his friends when they'd been top-less: hadn't paid any attention to top-less blokes at a beach or pool; never paid attention to lots of things that didn't involve pokémon or food.

Ash's lips parted subconsciously, his tongue moved slowly over the inside of his teeth, and he gently bit his bottom lip. That warm, forbidden feeling returned in the pit of his stomach again, and his mouth was suddenly salivating more then usual. Ash looked down and closed his lips – swallowing, but he couldn't keep his eyes away – he returned his gaze to Paul's striking face.

Paul had been watching Ash carefully – trying to figure out what the young man might have been thinking. He watched as a pair of brown eyes continued to stare at him – that gaze focused below his eyes, but above his waist line – never going lower than his chest thankfully. The way he was being studied by the obsidian-haired trainer though, it was fucking arousing and should be made illegal.

Paul continued to watch as Ash's mouth parted, almost inviting his tongue inside it. Ash's cherry lips shined with saliva against the flames of the fire, before the obsidian-haired trainer bit his bottom lip – slowly, like he was contemplating something lascivious. To Paul, it was seductive and borderline flirting. Ash was testing his patience without even realising it – driving him to insatiable lust and longing.

When Ash looked away, Paul inhaled deeply and rubbed his face – reminding himself that Ash wasn't gay. The young man was injured and unwell for fuck sake! Anymore of that and he'd have to take a cold shower in the fucking rain.

When he looked back over at Ash, the guy was looking straight at him. Ash had his index finger between his lips – gently biting at it, and obviously deep in thought. Paul wished Ash would stop moving that finger over his lips – it was tantalizing, and he had to look away before Ash sucking his cock became all he could think about. 'Fuck! His jeans were getting tight.'

"Paul?" A hesitant, quiet voice caught Paul's attention. Luckily, Ash's hands were now in his lap and fiddling with his sleeping bag nervously. Brown eyes moved up and down constantly, as if now afraid to look at him. "Are you –– Are you … erm –– You know…''

"Gay?" Paul asked bluntly, interrupting Ash before he hurt himself trying to ask such an obvious question. Ash nodded. "I thought that was incredibly obvious." Paul drawled, sighing in frustrated annoyance.

Ash hadn't missed the tone that Paul had taken with him – he knew he had to tread lightly. "Are you – are you okay with that?" Ash braved making eye contact with Paul, but the man's expression was blank so he continued. "How – how long have you –– How long have you known?"

Paul went to snap – that it was none of his business… but in truth, it had everything to do with him. He just couldn't work out why Ash needed to know such pointless things. If he was just going to tell him it was wrong – confirm that he could never be with such a gay jerk, then please, just cut to the chase and spit it out. Why was Ash wasting his time and rubbing it in his face? Why was he even asking?

"Why is that important to you?" Paul frowned. "Why does it matter when I realized I liked cock better then cunts?" Paul wasn't angry – in fact, he was almost scared of Ash's reply. He'd been suspicious about his sexuality for a long time before Sinnoh – and so was Reggie according to him. It wasn't until he'd met Ash in Sinnoh however, that it was confirmed. His feelings involving the obsidian-haired trainer were undeniable, and Reggie had suspected all along that Paul's rivalry with Ash went deeper – although Paul had never confirmed nor denied it either way.

"I –– I –– I just-" Ash didn't have the confidence to voice his thoughts, and he sighed in defeat; he had no idea how to confess his sudden realisation – that he might not be as straight as he'd always assumed, nor that he'd kind of enjoyed the taste of Paul's lips against his own. He'd wanted to know if Paul was happy being gay, if his brother knew, and how long Paul had known for… but he couldn't form the words. "Sorry, forget I asked." Ash said instead, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the log. He was too tired – had been fighting sleep because he'd wanted to clear things up with Paul, but he didn't know what to say.

Paul watched Ash for a few minutes, wondering what the guy's deal was. Ash was falling asleep again – in that same, upright position. Ash hadn't shown any disgust or ridicule towards him regarding his sexuality, nor any ill emotions over that non-consensual kiss he'd given him earlier, and even though he'd asked Ash if he was sure he wanted to know, he hadn't exactly been granted permission to kiss the man. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to answer Ash's questions at least, he really didn't have much left to lose at this point.

"I was six when myself and Reggie noticed I might have been into boys." Paul's voice was so quiet – like he was speaking to himself, but Ash could still hear him. "Most boys used phrases like, she's pretty. I'd tell Reggie that there was a cute boy over there. At eight, I came home with a black eye."

Ash opened his eyes then, looking at Paul with shock – despite his rapidly growing tiredness, he wanted to hear this story. Paul was talking with his eyes closed, and he didn't see the concern in his face, but Ash was concern by the tone of indifference Paul had to being harmed.

"I'd gone jogging and had collided into a boy about my own age - maybe a year or two older." Paul continued. "I told him he was cute. He punched me. Reggie was fine with the idea of my sexuality. He didn't care if I was gay, straight, or fucking rainbow coloured and inside out, but I guess I did. People are cunts – I don't like cunts in any context, but I decided to stop telling anyone with a dick that they were cute. I was fifteen-sixteen when I realized I was gay for certain." Paul paused for a moment, a wave of nervousness seemed to make him hesitate, but he continued. "I bumped into someone. He affected me more than anyone ever has. I guess I developed a foolish crush on him. I wanted him, but I never told him that."

'Until now.' Paul thought to himself secretly. He opened his eyes and looked over at Ash. "We went our separate ways with different goals. I never saw him again." Paul, glanced over to the cave entrance thinking – 'Till the idiot almost got himself killed in a storm.

"I'm fine with who I am, I just don't like broadcasting it because people are ignorant, judgmental cunts." Paul concluded his story.

Silence engulfed the cave – both young men lost to their own thoughts.

Paul, finally had to conclude that Ash might actually be accepting of his sexuality. Ash hadn't shown disgust or hostility towards him – despite his story, nor had he shown any sign of judgement towards him since he'd returned to the cave. So, maybe Ash was okay with his sexuality – wasn't a judgmental prick like most people, but the fact was, Ash wasn't gay and certainly had no feelings for him. Ash hadn't even made the connection between his story and himself – that It had been Ash himself that Paul had developed a foolish crush on at fifteen-sixteen. He wasn't sure if he'd hoped that Ash would or not, but for some reason, it still hurt that he was so oblivious.

Paul looked over at Ash – the young man's head drooped as he fought sleep. Paul silently did his nurse maid duties – handing Ash his medication and water, then insisting that he laid down and get some rest. As Paul checked that Ash was comfortable enough to be left alone for a while, Ash's sleepy glazed brown eyes looked up at him almost searchingly.

Ash had never looked so deeply into Paul's eyes before, and something had made him desperate to do so. It was as if, in his state of exhaustion, he was letting his desires take control of his actions. He pulled at Paul's jacket, pulling him down to his knees beside him.

A startled Paul on the other hand, was too shocked to protest. He stared, wide eyed into Ash's curious orbs. Ash lifted his head, making him wonder what the hell Ash was doing. And as those sleepy brown eyes danced between his own lifeless black ones, he gulped.

Ash continued to stare deeply into Paul's eyes – they were mesmerising to him all of a sudden. He was sure that, to anyone else, Paul's eyes were small black soulless orbs – nothing more than natural lenses to see through. Now, staring so deeply into them, Ash saw a galaxy. He could almost see the soul of the man through such enthralling eyes. They were black mostly, but they were dancing with the dark wine shade of purple, and glittering from the glow of the fire. Ash watched as Paul's pupils dilated, the iris shrinking to nothing but a thin outline as Paul stared back unblinkingly. Still captured and in awe of such beautiful eyes, Ash didn't notice that Paul was fighting the urge to ravish his mouth.

Paul cursed under his breath, failing to look away from inquisitive, glossy-brown eyes, and illness flushed cheek bones. His fists clenched, and his toes curled in his sneakers. 'Fuck!' He had two choices: he could go for it and act like an idiot again, or he could pull away quickly and lose the contact that he was secretly relishing. Arceus knew how much blood was running south right now, how fast his heart raced, and how much he was fighting to hold back. He really didn't wish to make the same mistake twice. He needed to make a choice and fast!

Ash suddenly released his hold on Paul's jacket and turned away, coughing into his hand. A bad coughing fit was a curse for Ash, who wanted to stay staring at them purple galaxy orbs – maybe he'd have gained enough courage to taste them vanilla-latte coloured lips –– lips he'd failed to appreciate or explore during Paul's stolen kiss.

To Paul, Ash's coughing fit was a blessing in disguise. Paul didn't like seeing Ash in pain, but it made the difficult choice for him. Paul quickly moved away, pretending to be checking on the fire with his back turned to Ash – he didn't need the young man questioning the sudden bulge between his legs.

"Paul?" Ash asked with a frown. Why was Paul moving away from him all of a sudden, like he'd done something wrong?

Ash couldn't help but wonder if – maybe, Paul was hoping for something he couldn't give him. If Paul wanted him for sex, or as a boyfriend even, he had to figure out if he was gay first. Arceus! He didn't even know if he was ready for sex. The idea didn't disgust him, in fact, a part of him was curious how sex would feel – even if it was with Paul, but If all Paul wanted was to get into his pants then it wasn't going to happen! It still left the question though – could he see himself as Paul's boyfriend? He figured he'd have to get better first – get medical care and sort out his head, only then could he really think about what he wanted and make the right choice. Only problem was… Paul was sure to leave as soon as rescue arrived, and he still had questions.

"You should get some sleep. The storm is breaking up. Rescue should be here tomorrow at least." Paul's monotonal voice was like daggers – cold and final. Ash didn't understand why it hurt so much, but It was just like before – when he thought Paul hated him.

"Why did you kiss me?" Ash blurted. He wanted to know why Paul had kissed him if he didn't like him. Paul's head shot round to look at him, but he just stared like it was the worlds dumbest question. "Paul! Why did you kiss me? If you don't like me, what do you want with me?" Ash's tired eyes stung as they glazed over with a film of tears. It could have been the medication for all he knew, but he didn't understand why he was so emotional over this.

Paul felt as if he'd been slapped in the face. 'What do you want with me?' Ash made it sound like he wanted to sexually take advantage of him – use him for a quick fuck and that was that. Paul couldn't look Ash in the face right now – the tears that threatened to fall from those weary, pained brown eyes, caused guilt to consume him for making Ash cry, again.

'Are you really that fucking dense Ash, that you don't realise I love you?'

Paul was shocked at his irrational thoughts. Did he love Ash? Of course not! It was bloody ridiculous! He only knew so much about the trainer. At fifteen he'd borderline stalked the boy – but it was a pathetic crush, nothing more. He was attracted to him, yes – sexually and emotionally: The day he saw Ash risk his life against Team Rocket, to save his own pokémon, he was attracted to his bravery: The way he held down Monferno as it lost control during blaze, had shocked him but he'd admired Ash for his determination and strength.

Ash never gave up, always refused to let anyone tell him what to do. The young man had anger issues that Paul could relate to, but Ash lost his temper over things he felt passionate about. Ash was always surprising Paul – not always in a positive way, but it made Ash interesting. The day they parted ways, Paul had wanted to run back up them fucking stairs and kiss him senseless. Seeing Ash hurt, in pain, or crying because of him… it felt like someone was squeezing his frozen heart – warming it and waking it up, making him feel things he never wanted to feel. No one else had that effect on him, no one else could get inside him the way Ash did… even now. But it couldn't be love, he couldn't be in love with Ash Ketchum! Ash just had a way to get inside of him and screw with his emotions.

"Figure it out!" Paul snapped, after coming back to the question Ash had asked.

"I'm trying-"

"Try harder!" Paul demanded loudly, interrupting him.

Ash flinched slightly as Paul's voice boomed in his direction. It sounded like Paul was pissed off, but there was hurt there. Paul was upset with him, probably because he couldn't figure out whatever Paul had expected him too, and that had obviously angered him. Ash raised himself up onto his elbows – shaking from weakness and exhaustion.

"Just tell me. Please Paul!" Ash breathed out, begging. His voice was dismal and depleted of energy, and he didn't have the strength to keep going in circles like this. "Please Paul!" He repeated, piteously and miserably.

Paul swore his heart was throwing a damn tantrum at that very moment. It craved to jump into his skull and rewire his brain, slap it upside the head and give it what for! It didn't help that he was already berating himself for his epic lack of timing. What sort of moron would pull this shit on a sick and injured man – and one that he claimed to have feelings for no less? He chose the worst fucking time and place to kiss him. Ash looked so depressed as tears leaked down that innocent face of his, and he'd reduced him to begging.

When Paul made no sign of responding to him, Ash laid down and turned his back to Paul. He held back the sobs that wanted to erupt from him, and spoke with a voice broken from emotion, and weak from illness.

"I'm sorry okay. Whatever I've done –– I'm an idiot, but I honestly don't know. I could try and guess, but I don't want to assume anything and piss you off by getting it wrong. I couldn't even do that right!" When Ash had finished talking, his body rocked as he sobbed quietly to himself. He was too ill, too weak to fight back the tears. He couldn't take everything being thrown at him anymore. His guilt for putting his pokémon in harm's way – by choosing to out run the storm, the pain he was trying to stay strong through, the illness violating his body, the tiredness draining him of all his energy, Paul being angry with him, and the drama that unfolded since Paul had kissed him… it was all too much. Everyone had a point where they just couldn't take any more, and this was his.

Standing there wracked with guilt, Paul heard Ash's every word and he felt like a cunt! Like a stone-hearted fucking Jerk!

Ash hadn't wanted to piss him off, hadn't wanted to assume anything about the situation, and because of that he'd been cautious and sensitive as he'd tried to piece things together despite his illness. Paul had only been thinking about himself. If he had been thinking about Ash in all of this, then the brave, determined, happy, non-judgmental trainer that – well, let's face it, that he probably did love in some way… wouldn't be broken and crying over something that could have been less complicated. Paul had made it more difficult then it had to be, by getting angry and defensive. Even if he could never have Ash, he'd never wanted to make him suffer just because he swung the other way.

"Ash?" Paul called to him, listening to his muffled sobs. When Ash only hid his face more, it felt like another dagger to the heart. He'd royally fucked up this time!

Paul slowly walked over and knelt beside the young man, hesitantly placing a hand onto Ash's shoulder. Ash instantly went to pull away, but he'd obviously forgotten about his injured leg in his stubborn reaction, and he cried out from the pain. Paul tried to help, but Ash just bashed him away almost hysterically. Paul used his strength over Ash, pushing the young man into a sitting position, and quickly moving to form a 'T' shape between them. "Enough!" Paul's loud voice repeated, firm and unbending. With a pillow on his lap, Paul forced Ash to lay down and be still. Ash gave a last feeble attempt to move away, but Paul's repeated – "Enough!" seemed to finally stop the struggle. Ash laid still, silently crying into Paul's chest, but fighting his sobs valiantly.

Paul had never been good at comforting others, so what had possessed him to do this was beyond him. He suddenly remembered how Ash had restrained Monferno when it had been driven mad with rage. He looked down at obsidian hair, knowing that whatever the reason, it just felt right – like it was what Ash needed. It might have been awkward, but he managed to relax. Almost subconsciously, he started running his fingers through Ash's thick, soft, obsidian-hair. Ash flinched at the first touch, but then he clenched at Paul's t-shirt, leaving wet patches as he tried to calm his emotions.

"I actually like you very much, don't think I don't." Paul admitted quietly. Ash sniffed loudly; puffy eyes slowly turning until they met his own.

"Then why? Why did you tell me – that you hated me?" Ash asked through shuddery breaths and sniffles.

"I was being a jerk. I hate one thing about you, one thing that isn't even bad nor your fault. I just wish it wasn't the way you were." Paul took a deep breath as Ash continued to stare up at him with wet, red, exhausted eyes that now held confusion too.

"What?" Ash frowned.

Paul couldn't lie. He couldn't hold Ash like he was doing, looking into those brown innocent eyes and lie to him. He closed his own eyes and sighed in defeat. "I said that shit because I hate the fact that I'm gay and you're not. I don't hate you, I-'' Paul struggled to finish his sentence. He couldn't admit that he had feelings for him, that he might be foolishly falling in love with him. "I hate the cards dealt." He said instead.

Ash's head turned down as it sunk into the pillow on Paul's lap, his eyes falling closed in his utter exhaustion. Sleep was pulling him under, he could no longer fight it – it would consume him soon. "If I was gay." He murmured into the pillow. "Would you want me as your boyfriend?"

Paul's breath hitched; it was all he wanted. "Yes." Paul whispered his barely audible answer.

Ash heard what he wanted to know, and with that knowledge tucked up safe for later, he gave in to sleep.

Paul waited for a response, but when none came, he looked down at Ash and realised that the young man had finally drifted back off. Paul assumed that Ash hadn't heard him, but it didn't matter because Ash would never be his. At least he was calm now and sleeping, instead of a begging, depressed mess because of him. He never had much compassion, but Ash somehow brought out the faint and dusty strands that he did have left.

"Pi?" Pikachu's voice reminded Paul that the electric type was still in the cave with them. It had been there all along – sleeping at first, and then watching as it usually did.

Carefully laying Ash down and off his lap, Paul stood up and told Pikachu that Ash was asleep but otherwise alright for now. Sitting down on his own sleeping bag, Paul realized how quiet it had become; the rain was lighter, and the wind spoke of contentment as its rage withered.

Greninja still hadn't returned however, and it was getting very late – the last thing he wanted to do when Ash woke up, was to tell him that his water type pokémon had gone missing. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, and hopefully help would arrive soon.

He would soon be parting from Ash, forever.