Sequel to Human Heart, though you don't have to read that story to understand this one.

Warning: sexual overtones, male/male relationship. T, for mature teenagers and over.

Black had always considered himself, with some pride, as a fairly trustworthy person. He never let slip to any of his mom's friends that her special lemon cheesecake was bought from the local superstore. He hadn't said a word when, one summer while having a water fight, Bianca had ripped her skirt all the way up one leg and he had to give her his jacket to tie around her waist. And he definitely didn't mention the time when, during that one fateful fling, White had let him touch her breasts – an achievement he recalled with some regret to this day, because come on, he got to second base and couldn't even tell anyone! He wasn't bad at keeping secrets, that's for sure.

But it was difficult to keep up his silent streak with N being his usual inconsiderate, oblivious self.

"You said you liked me, so I don't think it's wrong to want affection!"

Then he would sulk, and Black would have to waste several hours of his afternoon comforting him and dragging him out of his private pit of despair. Honestly, it was surprising that nobody had become suspicious sooner. For a 'friend', N was unusually attached to Black, and Black couldn't say that he was totally unattached to N, either.

It wasn't that he didn't want to do things with N, things that would make them a 'proper' couple. He did. But there were so many other factors to take into account – mainly, their age difference. Five years didn't sound so terrible when it was on its own. In a few years, when Black was nineteen or twenty, and N was twenty-four or so, then it would be acceptable. But when Black wasn't even a legal adult, that was when it got weird. He wasn't sure that, at age seventeen, his mother would be completely comfortable with him dating a twenty-two-year-old, and that wasn't even taking into account that fact that N was distinctly male, dangly bits and all.

Another year, another six months, another week until he was eighteen – Black felt he could only hold back for so long. He had never been one of those guys, the type that kept stacks of explicit pictures hidden under his bed, the type that propped himself up against his desk and spread his legs to the image of sleek, sandy-haired women on his computer screen, the type that carried tissues in his pocket because he got a hard-on watching schoolgirls running through a rainstorm. He had two, maybe three well-flipped-through magazines that he hadn't bothered replacing in about two years, since Cheren had been working part-time on the counter of the mart he'd purchased them from and had given him such a look ('really Black, how pathetic') that Black had since acquired a mortal fear of his childhood friend. The girls that decorated the pages were his type: average height, large-breasted and not quite naked. It always took him a while to get off, even with those models gazing at him with smoky eyes, teasing him with a flash of cleavage or leg, and now it was impossible.

Black never thought he'd want to touch another man so badly. It was difficult to understand. He wasn't put off by the male body, but N was the only one he would ever want to say things to and do things to. The idea of touching N, kissing him and stroking him and doing more than that, gave Black a thrill he'd never experienced before. The knowledge that N was right there, so close and yet so far away, was such a sweet, enduring torture. And his personal struggle to hold himself inside the confines of his promise to refuse N until his eighteenth birthday would make it all the more meaningful. He couldn't go back on his word now, he didn't want to. It had happened twice before, and both times he'd looked back on himself with such disgust that he felt sick.

The first time, N provoked him. He was in a needy mood, and was angry that Black would do nothing more than hold him.

"You're just like the others, you say you care but you don't," he said accusingly.

"I d-d-do care, th-that's why I'm w... waiting," Black forced out. His stutter always worsened when he was under stress.

"If you really cared, then you wouldn't wait!"

"Y-You d-don't understand, p-people would say- they would think-"

"I don't care what other people think! I don't know them, why would I care? It doesn't make any sense. Nothing makes any sense," N cried. He wilted slightly, bowing his head. "I-I like you, so... I want you to touch me."

And Black knew that N didn't mean it the way it came out. N, however independent he became, would never change in some respects, and his innocent innuendoes and the way he was standing just so, one hand fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, the other raised to his chin, his thumb tugging gently at his perfectly plump, pink lower lip as his cheeks took on a light pink hue – they meant nothing, sexually. To him at least.

But Black snapped. He tore N's shirt off his back with such violence and desperation that N screamed and stumbled back, hair splaying out wildly around his head, static with electricity.

"Oh God," Black said, horrified. "Oooh God, I-I'm s-so sorry, N, I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

And N perked up immediately, assured him shakily that he wasn't scared, just shocked, and Black could continue if he wanted to, oh please continue, please want to, and Black did want to. Very much. But instead, he helped N back into his shirt, then sat down and pulled him onto his lap.

N was heavy. Black's legs went numb after five minutes, but he kept his arms wrapped tightly around N's back while N squeezed his hips with his stick-insect legs so tightly that Black worried it would bruise. It wasn't the most comfortable of positions, but with his nose buried in N's hair, breathing him in, Black couldn't find it in him to care. And when N whispered, "I love you", he didn't want to wonder whether N even knew what that meant.

The second time was one that Black didn't like to think about. It was on the night of White's eighteenth birthday party, and N had come over from Accumula Town (where he was staying in a shared house with about twelve other people – a horrible idea, Black worried so much, I mean what if he set the house on fire?) even though he wasn't too fond of White, and spent the majority of the night trying to keep Black out of her evil clutches, until Professor Juniper came along and started chatting to him. N had become her latest project, and in return for letting her fill in dozens of complicated psychological tests on him - "What do you see here? How would you interpret this?" - she let him help out with the pokemon at the lab, which he loved.

Black wasn't a drinker, but White had brought in bottles of something colourful and sweet that tasted like fruit, and he probably drank one more than he should have, enough to make him tipsy, and by the end of the night everything was very funny, even Cheren's 'I'm going to kill you' glare when Bianca cuddled up to Black and fell asleep on his lap.

N stayed at Black's house that night. Black didn't trust him to get back to Accumula on his own, knowing him he'd get distracted by the basculin that liked to hurl themselves out of the water, or a patrat that had fallen out of its nest.

Instead of taking the bed, Black settled down on the futon next to N and buried his face in the mass of green hair that carpeted most of the pillow. It smelled good, it smelled like N. Black weaved an arm around the skinny waist to pull him closer, one hand pressed flat against N's stomach. His other hand found its way into his own underwear; somehow he'd become hard.

"N," he whispered.

"What's wrong?" N asked, and gasped when Black nipped at the shell of his ear with his teeth. "Oh. Oh, that's-"

Black slid a hand up his shirt.

"Oh!"

"Is that good?" Black asked quietly.

"Yes, that's good," N rasped, pressing his face into the pillow and breathing hard.

Black's hand removed itself from his pants and worked its way under N's hip, the one that was pressed against the futon. N inhaled sharply, and lifted his rear, granting Black better access. That was all the encouragement Black needed for him to seize his other hip and press N's body firmly against his own. The slight rubbing against his crotch lit a fire inside him, and he gasped.

What happened next was all very vague and blurry in Black's mind. It started with N's hands on his, and ended with N on his elbows and knees and Black behind him holding his clothed buttocks apart as he thrust desperately against the cleft of his ass. He could remember the noises N made, a small, needy whine of "impossible" that quickly turned into a series of high-pitched squeaks as his body jerked and pushed back in time with Black's erratic thrusting.

And that was how it happened; Black committing the shameful act of humping N's butt before loudly and obviously jizzing in his pants.

The next morning he had been too embarrassed to even take his head out from under the pillow. N squatted next to him and poked his lifeless body. "Um, last night," he said uncertainly. "Were you... trying to mate with me?"

Black groaned in response.

"Y-You won't get any eggs from me, you know!" N continued indignantly. Then he blushed. "I didn't mind, though. I liked it, actually."

It took a while for Black to pull himself back from that. N was as willing and eager to please as a child, and Black had taken advantage, and it was wrong. Black wondered if he'd ever be comfortable with it, no matter how much N wanted it. They're both grown up a lot since they'd met, but Black only had to look at N, with his questioning olive-coloured eyes and easy smile and the way he spoke, so clumsy but so earnest – and he would see the same misguided child from two years ago. A little boy trapped in an adult body.

"It's your birthday next week." N sounded almost heartbreakingly hopeful when he found Black outside the day-care centre. His smile faded when he saw the pokeballs.

"I-I have to! I-It's a horsea!" Black cried out, holding his hands up defensively. "Y-You can't expect me to c-c-carry water around to keep him in."

N scuffed the ground with his toe, burying the tip of his trainer in dust. "I wanted to know what you wanted," he said. "I have to get you a present."

"Oh, you d-don't-"

"I brought a book!" N thrust the small paperback forwards, arms stiff and thin like sticks. "It says I'm meant to do something special for you, since I'm your manfriend."

Black rolled his eyes, willing himself not to correct him after the trouble it had almost dropped them in six months ago, when N thought it was a brilliant idea to chastise a group of roughnecks about smoking in front of their pokemon. When Black clasped his hand to drag him away, the men had hooted with laughter and asked if he was N's boyfriend. N, in his naivety, replied, "Yes, of course he is", which opened the floodgates to a torrent of laughter and homophobic slurs, and Black had to force N away as he babbled about how Black wasn't eighteen yet, so of course, he had to be his boyfriend.

Black took the small book from N's hands, holding it suspiciously by the corners. It was old, well-chewed, and when Black opened it he saw it bore the pink piece of paper that marked it as library property. N didn't have a library card; Black knew by now that he understood the most basic social rules. But it wasn't unusual for N to slip back into old habits, and he had to wonder whether it was entirely unintentional. One well-meaning, innocently wounded look, and N could get away with murder.

"It says I'm supposed to mate with you, but that's impossible, since we're both males," N provided helpfully.

"Wh-wh-?" Black flipped through the book – a sex therapy guide. Men and women, naked as the day they were born, adorned the pages, lovingly enveloped in each others arms and legs. Detailed 'how-to' steps accompanied them. Black snapped the book shut and stuffed it into his pocket.

"But it's mine!" N said in protest.

"It's not y-yours, it's the li-ibrary's," Black said firmly. "A-And you shouldn't be rrreading these things in p-public."

"I know," N admitted. "But these human normalities are so ridiculous. The act of mating is necessary to the advancement of their – our – species, it's only natural that people would talk about it."

"N-Not here," Black said. "Not-" he lowered his voice to a hiss, "in f-f-front of children." He gave a slight nod towards the kindergarten located beside the pokemon day-care. Children whooped and shrieked in the playground, rolling around in the sandbox and shooting each other with invisible weapons. One of them, a little girl with pigtails, waved at N, and was promptly drawn away by a teacher and a bribe of a lollipop.

"D-D-Do they know you?" Black asked.

"I come here sometimes. I like it," N replied. "I-I don't do anything bad, I just watch. That's not bad is it?"

Black pressed a palm to his forehead. "N-No, it's not, b-but..." he sighed and waved his hands up and down, gesturing at N from head to toe. "You're... a-a-a lot older than... people are going to think y-you're up to something if you show up here and stare at l-little kids for hours on end."

"But I'm not up to something."

"B-B-But they d-don't know that."

"But..." N cast his gaze back towards the playground, green eyes misting over with a sort of lonely wistfulness. Black understood. He took N's long white hand and squeezed it.

"H-How about we come back la-ater? T-Tonight," he suggested.

N blushed. "Maybe. If I have time."

He did have time. Black sat on the step of the kindergarten centre and watched, with fondness and some amusement, as N pottered about the playground, practically glowing. He used the slide about ten times before catching himself and stumbling to his feet, and approaching Black in red-faced shame.

"I want to go now," he said.

Black raised his eyebrows. "Y-You sure?"

"An adult shouldn't do such things."

"I-I thought you said normalities were r-ridiculous."

"They are. But I think... I should at least try to be like everybody else," N said, eyes downcast. "I know I'm not a pokemon. But if I can't be a human either, then I'll be lonely."

Black stared up at N knowingly. He was nervous. He was afraid. He wanted so much to be accepted, because the one thing he couldn't face was the idea of being alone again. Black got to his feet. N was still taller than him; he didn't think he'd ever fill the three-inch gap between them. Reaching up, he cupped his face, loving the rush of warmth he felt under his fingers as he did so.

"Y-You wanna play in the sandbox?" he asked.

N nodded, squeezing his eyes shut, like he was trying to stop himself crying. He cried far less than he used to. Black hoped it was because he was happier now, and not because he felt obliged to obey the 'men don't cry' rule.

"C-Come on then." Black tugged gently on his arm, and immediately, all traces of self-consciousness and fear vanished from N's face, and were replaced by a sheer, untainted happiness. He let N excitedly yank him in all directions, and once he got over the social expectations that he didn't know had affected him so profoundly, and the nagging worry that it would be just his luck for someone to discover them, Black actually found himself having fun. The games he played as a child, long buried and thought forgotten in his mind, quickly resurfaced, and the nostalgia and freedom of not acting his age brought about a kind of peace. Recollections of a time where nothing mattered, where all he had to worry about was whether he'd like tonight's supper, where he had yet to learn the meaning of fear.

Black pulled N against him and held him tight.

"Are you all right?" N asked.

"Yeah, I-I'm fine," Black breathed. "I-I just... I love you."

N let out a long, strangled moan and gripped the back of Black's shirt. His body started to shake. "You've never said that before!" he sobbed.

"Sorry! Sssorry!" Black laughed, stroking N's hair.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

N started howling. Black began to feel just a tiny bit uncomfortable.

"Shh, it's okay – woah!" His eyes widened in surprise as N arched his back and lifted him off his feet. An arm hooked under his knees and he was swept into N's arms, bridal-style. "He-e-ey, th-that's not funny," Black muttered, smiling gently.

"Mmm!" N moaned in reply, nuzzling his head into Black's chest. Black buried his nose in the crest of N's hair.

"A-Aren't I heavy?"

"No," N mumbled. He let go abruptly, and Black barely managed to get his feet down in time. His knees gave way under the force of the fall, and he landed heavily on his bottom with a thud.

"Wh-What the- y-you said I wasn't heavy!"

"I thought that was your way of telling me to let go!" N slumped down next to Black on the ground, and hugged his knees to his chest. "I want to kiss you."

"You can wa-ait a week, can't you?"

"Yes," N said sulkily. "But there's no one around. Nobody would know."

"It's the p-principle."

"I know." N sighed. "You are so much more honourable than me. You're right, it would be a shame to break your promise so close to your birthday."

"It's not that I d-d-don't want to," Black said. "I d-do, it's j-just... I'm worried I'll feel like I'm... taking advantage."

N gaped. "No, you're not! I-If anything, I'm the one taking advantage of you!" he cried. "Y-You're really nice, so lots of people like you. So... sometimes I act like I don't understand things to get you to pay attention to me! I'm sorry!"

"What?"

"I-I can do some things on my own, but then I pretend I can't so you'll do them with me," N said ashamedly, hanging his head and burying his face in his knees, leaving just a sprout of green hair visible. "You probably hate me now."

"N-No, I d-don't hate you..." Black shook his head. "Lots of people d-do stupid things for attention, so... I-It's okay."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Kinda childish though."

N scowled. "I don't think it's childish. It's just who I am," he said. "You didn't stutter just then."

"I've been practising. I'm having t-trouble with... with..." Black winced and shut his eyes tight as his tongue and throat refused to cooperate. "D... d-d-d, though."

"I like how you talk."

"I d-don't."

Black threw himself back from where he was sitting, landing on his back on the grass and staring up at the darkening sky. He extended an arm. "C'mere," he murmured, and N laid down beside him and rested his head on Black's shoulder. "Y-You really want me to touch you?"

"Y-Yes."

"I'll d-d-do it a lot on mmmy birthday th-then," Black said, feeling his face heat up. N buried his own face in Black's collar.

"Promise?"

"P-Promise."

"Aren't you embarrassed, saying those things?"

"Yep!"

He whipped his arm out from under N's head and locked his neck tightly in the bend of his elbow. Curling his free hand into a fist, he used his knuckled to roughly mess up N's mane. N squirmed and rolled over, dragging Black with him.

"Oww! Ow! Why-y-y?"

"N-Never heard of playing rough, a-a-after being raised by p-pokemon?" Black teased, twisting his body into an impossible angle and lifting his hips off the ground to escape N's incessant wriggling while still keeping a firm grip on N's head. He manoeuvred himself into an upright position, N laying face-down, spindly legs kicking, Black's thighs straddling his shoulders. "Y-You're stronger than me, a-aren't you?"

"Stop it!" N wailed, flailing an arm and catching Black on the side of his head, knocking him off balance and sending him sprawling. He grabbed Black's wrists and pinned them to his sides. Black looked up at him, eyebrows raised, and slowly the pressure on his wrists lifted, and N sat back on his legs. "I wasn't raised by pokemon," he said. "Not raised by them."

"How mmmuch d-do you weigh?" Black asked, sitting up and wrapping his arms around N's narrow waist.

"Not that much!"

And he pinned Black down again.

The night before his birthday, Black couldn't sleep. N took promises so seriously, and he was innocent; not like Black, whose blood was set rushing southwards from simply wrestling with N. N's long neck, his delicately pointed features, his pale skin... Black didn't want to think about it. He knew when he fell for someone he fell hard (memories of White, and Bianca, and that little girl with the freckles and runny nose in kindergarten flashed before his eyes, and oh God, he was so pathetic), and for all N frustrated him, he wanted to be close to him. And despite N's honest affection, Black was sure their mutual inexperience of normal, healthy relationships was bound to cause tension.

He wondered, was it really N he was worried for? Oh God, maybe it was the inferiority complex that had been sitting dormant in the depths of his mind, emerging from his subconscious now that his personal bubble had been breached by N's persistent confessions. Maybe his previous failures with women had left him with an irrational aversion to relationships. He had squeaked when White sucked his neck, and done his best frightened hedgehog impression when she slid her hand down his pants. That must've left at least a little scar on his God-given masculinity.

N showed up on his doorstep early the following morning, and launched himself at Black as soon as he opened the door. Black had to clamp his hands over N's face to stop him very-probably assaulting him right in front of his dear mother.

N whined with disappointment, and Black dragged him outside away from the prying eyes of his mom, Samurott Jack and Florence the Musharna.

"You promised," N said seriously.

"Technically, I'm n-not eighteen until sssix-thirty tonight," Black replied.

"I woke up at three this morning."

"D-Did you?"

It seemed that he did, because he fell asleep on the couch within a few hours, and not even the threat of Bianca's formidable figure could raise him from his slumber when Black's friends arrived to wish him a happy birthday and sat themselves around his unconscious body for a drink. His mom had said she would let him have alcohol, but Black had refused. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of White's party.

Black had always felt a little uncomfortable around his closest friends. The unspoken rule that you simply didn't date your friends' exes had been broken one too many times among the three of them, and Black was the prime offender. The six months with White that hadn't ended on the best of terms; the giggle-filled fumbling behind the lab with Bianca that left him trembling and sleepless for a week as he expected her father to appear before him wielding a chainsaw at any moment; that one hot summer evening with Cheren when they were thirteen and Black had confessed his curiosity, they had exchanged nervous kisses and held hands, and never spoke of it again. And then there was White and Bianca's suspiciously touchy-feely relationship, and Cheren's lingering feelings for Bianca. Black couldn't understand why he was the only one bothered by it.

"So, what's the plan, now you're eighteen?" White asked. "Are you going to get a job?"

"Probably. I have no idea where though."

"Honestly, Black, you have no ambition," Cheren said irritably. "You're stronger than me, but you don't even want to make a living out of it. Alder's taking me as an apprentice, he told me you turned the offer down."

"I-I never wanted to take on the league! Not really. I j-just wanted to raise my p-pokemon, have some f-fun along the way – the only reason I we-ent there was because..." Black nodded at N, who was curled up around a cushion and sucking his thumb.

"Then why did you bother with the Gyms?" Bianca asked

"I d-d-didn't want you think I sssucked," he admitted sheepishly.

"Boring!" White declared. She was training to take on the League.

"I know!" said Bianca. "If Cheren's going to be the new champion, me, you and White could replace the Accumula guys!"

"You mean Chili and the others?"

"Yeah, they're creepy," White said. "But that's the first gym in the region. We'd kick everyone's asses before they even got a shot at the League."

"Alder said it would be good for the Gyms to be more of a challenge," Cheren provided, and was met with a playful punch to the shoulder from White.

"Oh, Alder! I looove you!" she teased, wrapping her arms around herself and making silly, slurpy kissing noises. Bianca fell about laughing, and Cheren went red and glared at them both.

"Shut up. You're so immature."

Then N woke up and began a heated debate with Cheren over how me was most certainly not immature, and how could he say that? He refused to listen to Black's attempted explanation, and eventually Black had to bundle White, Bianca and Cheren outside while N brought incomprehensible formulas into his argument.

"What's the time?" he asked immediately when they left.

"Y-You can't just-" Black sighed. "Nearly five."

"Can I stay here until six-thirty?"

"Well, you've ssstayed here all d-day anyway," Black muttered, and N took that as consent, and headed upstairs. Black was about to follow, when his mom cleared her throat and stepped in front of him.

"Black, honey," she said, her sweet tone hiding a hint of steel. She sat down primly on the couch, and patted the empty spot beside her, a simple motion that sent ice prickling down Black's spine. He made his way clumsily across the room and sat down beside her.

"Do you want me to go out for a while?" she asked.

"What d-do you mean?"

"I don't mind, if you boys want to be alone," his mom said. "You're a sensible boy, I'm sure I can trust you to-"

"Mo-om!" Black cried. "Wh-Why'd you have to say that? I-I-I'm not-"

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No!"

"I'll leave."

"Mom!"

She got up and picked up the phone. "Black, it's rude to keep your friends waiting," she said. "Oh, hello, Katie, it's me..."

Black watched helplessly for a moment, then dashed upstairs before the final shreds of his precious pride disappeared down the drain. He felt like crying. Just what did his own mother think of him?

He almost bumped into N, who was exiting the bathroom.

"Oh God!" Black exclaimed, whirling around and burying his face in his hands, blushing deeply.

"What's wrong?" N asked nervously.

"Nothing, n-nothing," Black said, waving an arm desperately, trying to waft N away from him. "Oh man, w-why d-did Mom have to say all that? I-I'm not going to have s-s-s-sex with you!"

"Oh my," N murmured, and Black turned around with a new, fierce determination in his eyes.

"Come on," he said, grabbing the thin wrist of the taller man and pulling him into his bedroom. N staggered as Back dragged him, long legs almost buckling, and yelped when he was thrown down on the bed.

"W-Wait there," Black ordered, his face bright red.

N struggled into a sitting position from where he lay, sprawled out, on the duvet. He began to fidget. "I want to do it now."

Black felt his face burn even brighter. He began to wonder if N said these things on purpose, just to provoke him, because he could just feel the beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead and his pants tighten ever so slightly, and even though he wasn't one of those guys, he really felt like one right now.

He sat down beside N and set his laptop on his knee. "L-Let's watch a film or s-something," he suggested.

Not even slow-motion explosions and dramatic music could distract him, especially as N had the habit of holding his hand and hiding his face on his shoulder whenever he got scared. Black kept tugging his hand away to wipe on his shirt, his palms were so clammy and he hated the thought of N being able to feel it.

The ticking of the clock on his wall echoed louder and louder in his ears as six-thirty approached. N squeezed his hand so tightly his knuckles went white, and Black's fingers went stiff from lack of blood.

"N," he said quietly. "We d... don't have to d-do anything, if you d-d-don't want to."

"You use too many 'd's," N mumbled. He glanced at Black and smiled shyly. "I'm not going to change my mind."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

Black's eyes flickered towards to laptop screen.

"I've b-been eighteen for one minute," he said, and leaned over and pressed his lips to N's in a timid, dry-lipped kiss. Sitting back, he stared at his hands, flexing his fingers nervously. N raised onto his knees, and Black, taking the hint, closed the lid of the laptop and nudged it off his knee, and pulled N down to kiss him again. Maybe he pulled a little too abruptly, because N lost his balance, and a moment later pain exploded in Black's upper lip as N's teeth bounced hard against his.

"Ow. My teeth," N groaned, cradling his mouth.

"S-sorry. Let me see," Black said. He reached up and took N's hands in his, lowering them from his face and inspecting his swollen lip, red and shining with a dab of blood. Swallowing, Black edged forward and licked N's lips, tasting copper on his tongue as he did. Instantly, he felt N's mouth clamp shut under his own, and he backed off quickly.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," N said. "It's... okay."

A pair of hands, delicate and white as a pair of silk gloves, took a nervous hold of the front of Black's shirt, and he was coaxed forward. N pressed his tongue against his lips, mimicking Black's previous attempt, and Black kissed back fervently. N squeaked and clutched Black's hair when Black nipped at his lower lip with his teeth, and when Black slid his lips away, ghosted them down his jawline to rest on his neck, his body jerked.

"Black, wait," N whispered.

Black pulled away. "Are you ok-kay?"

N averted his eyes, a faint pink blush blooming in his cheeks. "I'm okay," he said. "I-I like it."

Black crossed his legs, heat pressing down on him harder than ever. Slowly, with trembling fingers, he reached out and touched one of the hard little peaks showing through N's shirt. N flinched, and Black took hold of it between his thumb and forefinger, pinching lightly.

N gasped and squirmed.

"You s-said you wanted me to d-do this," Black said.

"I, I..." N floundered helplessly, and Black reached out and wrapped his arms around him. N was so warm, and when Black slid his hand under his shirt, his skin was so soft under his hands. When Black brought the tips of his fingers up to brush N's hardened nipples, N leaned into the touch, clinging to Black like a limpet to a rock. He moaned.

"S-Sorry," Black murmured, resting his chin on N's shoulder, fingers still playing at N's nipples.

"It's fine – ahhh..." N attempted to shift away, then collapsed against Black's chest when Black started kissing his neck.

"S-Sorry, I k-k-keep asking that," Black said. "Woah!" He grabbed the hand that was sliding between his thighs, pressing up and touching, gently, with long curious fingers.

He stared at N, his breath trembling. "A-Are you all right with that?" he asked quietly.

N nodded earnestly. "I read on the internet that males like it," he said. His gaze skittered away from Black's. "And... it felt good when I did it to myself, so I thought..."

"The internet?"

"Oh, yes, it's this thing on the computer, you can ask it anything, and it doesn't say 'you can't say that' or 'you're making a scene'."

"R-Really?" Black murmured, snaking his arms around N's shoulders and lowering himself back onto the bed, pulling N on top of him, then stroking down to cup his bottom with both hands.

"Oh," N whispered. "That's-"

Black squeezed.

"Oh! I-I like it."

"You d-d-don't have to tell me," Black said, cheeks burning.

"But isn't it strange? These are... I know this is a m-mating ritual, but we can't mate, so why should it feel good? The only reason for this is to breed," N said.

"Um, no. No, no, N, this is..." Black sighed in defeat. "You're right we c-c-can't breed, but we – two men, o-or two women – c-can still have s- um, mate."

"How?"

Black took hold of the hand that still lingered, motionless, between his legs, and, lifting his hips, he guided the palm of N's hand to rest against his ass. N simply blinked at him for a moment, jaw hanging slightly open in vacancy. Then, as realisation dawned upon him, his eyes widened and his mouth formed a comical 'O' of surprise.

"B-But that's impossible."

"Well, y-yes it's impossible for us to b-breed, but people d-d-don't just have sex for that," Black explained. "They d-do it because they want to. B-Because they c-care about each other."

"Pokemon don't."

"We're not pokemon."

"Mmm." N turned his head to lean his cheek against Black's chest. "I feel stupid."

"Why?"

"Because I should have known." He raised his head, a determined frown etched into his features. "I did know. Some of it. I only want to do this with you."

"Nngh. You shouldn't s-say things like that," Black groaned. "It's emb-barrassing."

"But it's true."

Overwhelmed by N's honesty, and mortified by the fact that it was turning him on, Black gripped his sharp hips and ground them into his own. N let out a loud gasp that vibrated through his body, and the strength in his arms gave out with a shudder, letting his full weight press against Black's body.

"You're heavy," Black said.

"Sorry, I'm s-" His voice caught in his throat and twisted into a strangled cry as Black began to move him, rubbing him against his body. "What are you doing?" N whimpered as Black's hands coaxed him into a rocking motion.

"I d-d-don't know," Black replied, voice shaking. He lifted his hips off the bed, thrusting in time with N's gentle movements, and forced back a groan. He wanted to be nervous. He wanted to be scared of buckling under the pressure, to chicken out and stop before he went too far. But N's hands were everywhere, trembling and clenching and unclenching around him, and his face was buried in the curve of his neck, his hot, laboured breath raising goosebumps on his skin. It was too much.

He slid his hands over N's bare skin, under his shirt, and then under his pants when his fingers slipped past the waistband of his underwear. N bit down lightly on his neck, and Black couldn't hold back his voice any more. He just thanked God he was quiet, because – oh no, oh no way – what if his mom was still in the house? The thought alone was enough to numb the little jolts of pleasure that were shooting through his body. Frustrated, he tangled his legs around N's and began to knead N's buttocks roughly with both hands as he rubbed their bodies fiercely together. N's grip on Black tightened, and needy, desperate squeaks, like those of a small animal, spilled uninhibited from his sinfully innocent lips.

Black arched his back and let out a long, shuddering gasp. N held him tight.

"Black, I don't think I can," he whispered.

Black withdrew his hands and wrapped them tightly around N's back, breathing heavily. "M-Me neither," he replied. "I d-don't even know what you're talking ab-bout, b-but yeah... me neither."

"Should we stop?"

"Probably. I d-don't want to get you d-d-dirty." Black reluctantly lifted his torso onto his elbows, shaking N off him. N sat back on the bed, flushed and misty-eyed swaying slightly, like he was about to fall over, or fall asleep. He palmed experimentally at the bulge that had formed in his pants, wincing at the touch.

"This is normal, isn't it? It's happened to me before," he said. Curiously, he lifted the hem of Black's T-shirt. "Yours is different, though."

"Yeah," Black mumbled, feeling his face heat.

"It's wet."

"Y-Yeah."

N poked at the dark, damp patch with his forefinger. Black flinched.

"D-Don't. It's sensitive."

"You should change your underwear."

Black picked up a clean pair of underwear, and a clean pair of jeans too, and checked to see if the hallway was clear before making a dash for the bathroom. His soiled pants thudded when they hit the floor, sending Black reeling into panic as he remembered his phone that was stowed away in the back pocket. Salvaging it and checking to see if there was any damage done, he couldn't miss the pixellated envelope that was flashing on the screen.

The text was from White.

If you're doing what I think you're doing, good luck!

He groaned. "Th-Thanks, White, but it's a little la-ate for that."

After changing, he headed back to his room, where N was waiting on the bed. A quick glance told Black that at least he wasn't turned on any more.

"Hi," he said awkwardly, avoiding N's eyes.

"Why are you saying hi? You were just here."

Of course, he could rely on N to break any tension that had built in his mind.

"C-Come on. It's still my b-birthd-d-day, so let's go out, go to Accumula Gym," he said.

"Can I have a dessert, too?" N asked, hopping off the bed and standing to attention at Black's side.

"Yeah, but you're p-paying." Black grinned. "Wanna hold hands?"

"You said we weren't allowed."

"D-D-Do you want to, or not?"

"Yes."

Black left the house with his fingers linked with N's. He didn't let go until they reached the gym, and waitress came to show them to their table.

–

Oh God, it's finally finished! Ha ha ha, I say that like I've been struggling with this for months, but in reality it only took me three days to work out. What can I say, I had a bit of trouble with the ending, which might explain why I don't like this as much as my other one-shot.

BLACK, BLACK, BLACK. I have a new-found love for this boy. When I first envisioned him, he was a badass, but somehow he's turned into this unlucky, neurotic guy who for all his experience still jizzes his pants before N. I still like badass Black, but this version is pretty fun to write too!