Gold & Silver, Forever and Always, a pokémon fanfic

Gold & Silver, Forever and always

The bed sheets rustle around me as I attempt to find a more comfortable position. It's hard trying to sleep when somebody's clutching to you with all their might, but you get used to it. After so many nights, it isn't too bad. Actually it's even sort of nice- the feeling that you're needed. And warm. And protected. And- it's like you're the most important person in the world to him.

For me, you ask?

It's Gold.

No, I won't tell him that straight to his face. Never would I be caught dead doing so. But still, I guess it's true. He changed me, not that I really noticed any change then. But now I see it. He melted my heart, turned it into gold. How ironic.

"Mmhwhy are you up?" Sleepy eyes crack open, while the pair belonging to the one awake remain closed.

"Idiot, do I look like I'm up? I'm trying to sleep, but it's hard when you're snoring in my ear."

Grin. "Mha, I don' snore. And you're used to it already."

"You lack logic… but whatever, maybe I am used to you. I'm still trying to sleep."

He's twiddling with a strand of red hair, boasting a serious (or rather; a too-tired-so-brain-doesn't-function) expression.

"You're thinking again."

My expression mellows, softens just a degree, so little of a change that nobody can see. Nobody but him.

"That's pretty clear, isn't it?"

I used to be so darn stupid didn't I? Yeah, I really did. It's improvement, because now he's the one doing all those stupid, silly little things that make him him, and I get to be the serious one, the responsible one. The one scolding him.

It wasn't like that (I'm not really getting anywhere, am I?) before. I can always blame it on ill family relationships and traumas and what not, but the fact that I was a mean jackass won't go anywhere. It'll remain as a part of me for as long as I'll live. It doesn't matter, Gold says it doesn't.

But it does.

Not in a sense that I'd have to wallow every day in despair of knowing, but in a sense that it's a part of my history, part of my life story.

The most important in making the "me" I am now.

He nudges my shoulder too gently; he's always too soft.

"Tell me," it's not a request, but a command.

I sigh. "You're too impatient and you have too big of a nose."

"You're too secretive."

I was waiting for a snort, but I get none. Instead:

"I love you Silver."

It's not a glad blush that creeps up my neck and to my cheeks. It's not. And it doesn't fill my heart so full of something like happiness that I'm afraid it'll overflow. It doesn't.

"So you think."

But it is.

"You love me too, don't you?"

And it does.

"…so you think."

He knows that though I say this, I mean that. He always knows. He reads me like an open book, but sometimes he's hard for me to understand. But he doesn't let me go away, he always explains himself. Always, even if I didn't need an explanation. Stupid brat.

"I know."

We met, we fought and we raced against each other. I learned about myself, about him and about the things I was wrong. More like I was forced to learn, he made me. He was a force too great to ignore, like gravity. Or the power of money, Gold. Such irony again, but it's the raw truth.

And what did he learn?

Me.

He may have learnt my truthful name. The insecure child, the lonely child. The abandoned one, crying himself to sleep at night, vowing to gain revenge. The one whose simple, cruel world crumbled by being loved.

But why did he?

I don't know.

Perhaps I too was such force to him. Something he couldn't pass nicely, something he couldn't just leave the way it was and let it be. It'll be a mystery to me, like it'll be a mystery to him what I'm waking up to ponder at moonless nights.

You want to throw a guess?

"Can I kiss it better?"

"What? No!" I feel slight shudder of incredulousness and embarrassment roll up my spine.

"Aw, why?"

Stupid smile, stupid, stupid, everything about him is so stupid.

"…tch, there's nothing to kiss better."

"I'll kiss you anyway."

And so he shifts and climb up my body, from where he was resting his head on my chest, to do so. I do nothing to prevent it, I don't even move an inch, but he still misses by a mile at first. He kisses my jaw and chuckles, I get the urge to slap him and curl away. Such a childish impulse it is, but maybe I'm allowed that.

After all, this is the childhood in my life. Or more like the spring but it's a poetic equivalent to that. And he is my childhood crush.

"Oops, where is your mouth?" he says smilingly as he continue those misses on purpose. He is kissing every little bit of skin on my face, my eyelids, my nose, my brows… he is placing those treats everywhere but my mouth.

"Stop fooling around already and grow up." It's not a worthy retort at all, and a bit lame to be honest, even in my own opinion.

"Ha ha, you wanna get serious then?"

I blush and make a face, he only smiles, smiles like he always does.

"Of course my princess."

And then it's (finally) the real thing, before I get to protest about the damn petting name. His lips descend on mine, too soft (what I said) at first like every other time. I tilt my neck up to give a hint for him:

more.

now.

Luckily he understands and complies with my wishes. His tongue slips into my mouth, and soon I'm flustered (when did his hand slide under my shirt?) and have to break away.

Breathing deeply and greedily, I stare at him. We both know I don't look half as menacing as I'd want to, but that I look 100 percent more discontent than I actually am.

"Have your thoughts then," he says as he kisses me softly once more. "Just let me have you."

"Forever…"

The murmur is quiet and fast, just to make sure my courage doesn't fail me and I manage to say it. I want to make him happy; I want to say what I mean— because it's him.

He's Gold and I am silver, they belong together he always says.

And I really think I believe so too.

What I wonder about is my luck. Such luck I've had… I'll never get over it. He'd call me cute and other annoying stuff if he'd know, so I won't tell. It's the only secret I'll keep to myself; otherwise he has me completely, as I have him.

"…and always."

I wrote this a million years ago, last autumn but I couldn't post it then for some reason. Now when I was cleaning up I found it and figured that I could as well put it up, since I have nothing better to post. And also to motivate me into writing—I have an awesome idea for a Pokémon fic that I sort of have started already but not really. I'll just have to see how it goes with my inability to write fics longer than two chapters. Oh bother.

Anyway, review? It'd make me happy.

Love, Endles