Ash x Gary (Palletshipping)

Extended Stay Part 4

Me: *Points to video* "When your Teddiursa-mask-wearing Pikachu enlists the help of a certain grass type...you know you're f#cked...By the way, you should really stick with that vid to the very end, and, no, the sound is not broken—I ASSURE YOU, it is working FINE...Seriously, watch it to the end."

You: "...What about the picture...?" *Doesn't get it*

Me: *Coughs* "Snorlax." *Coughs*

You: *Uses rage on Ashy-bitch*

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*Ash's POV*

I wake up in the morning feeling really...loose. I dunno. Good, I guess. My butt's still kinda sore, though.

I roll around in the sheets some, just feeling the surprisingly nice fabric on my skin and waiting for Gary to jump me or something. Wait, where is he anyway? And what's with that clacking? Shouldn't I have noticed that sooner?

I turn my head towards the sort of clicky tapping sound and see that Gary's seated at the desk in the hotel room with a laptop in front of him, apparently typing something. Is that laptop new or did he bring it with him? I guess he did pack his own bag for this whole trip around Hoenn so it's possible he's been dragging that thing around the entire time.

"Gary," I call, "come back to bed." The sheets are nice on my skin and all, but I prefer his hands. Weird how I was completely disturbed by the very idea of him getting those same hands on me just a few days ago—now I just want him to never stop touching me.

Gary turns his head at the sound of me speaking, and I see that's he's wearing glasses. It takes me a second to process it, but then I burst into guffaws. "Hawhaw! You're wearing glasses?! How old are you?! Not even Professor Oak wears glasses!" While I'm busy laughing my butt off, I hear Gary get up from his seat, and next thing I know, he's on top of me, pressing me down into the mattress. Good, if teasing him makes him put his hands on me, then good.

He bites my neck, and his hands are on my skin, and his smell is everywhere, all over me. I want to do it again. "Gary," I moan, feeling a swelling in my groin. He pulls back a little, and I see him taking off his glasses and putting them on the bedside table. "No, seriously, when did you get those glasses?" I decide to keep pursuing the topic.

"In case you haven't noticed," he plants a little kiss on my jaw, "we're not ten anymore. And you're eyesight goes faster than you think...or at least for me, it did anyways...They're just for reading." He shrugs it off.

I peck him on the lips. "Reading what?"

I know he knows what I mean, but he responds with a raised eyebrow, "Words...?" like I'm the biggest idiot on the planet. I stick my tongue out at him. He licks it, and I cringe back into the pillows. He laughs at my...flustration (that's a great made-up word, eh? frustration? flustered? flustration?) but stops playing dumb: "It's just a little work. That's all." His eyes glance reflexively towards the computer. Ah, that's right, isn't it? Even if he's on some sort of extended vacation with me, he's still a researcher. And...he'll have to go back to doing that, won't he? He'll go back, right?

"Gary," I start. He hums against my neck, leisurely kissing his way down the expanse of skin he finds there. "Gary, you wouldn't pick me over your work and Teagan, would you?" He immediately goes rigid in my arms, and I dig my fingers into his shoulder blades in response. I guess it's like he's saying 'you're questioning me, again?' and I'm saying 'no, just asking.'

He shakes his head slowly back and forth, face still buried in my neck, muscles still tense. "No, I wouldn't pick you over all that, Ash. That's my life. I love you but..."