Welcome!

Chayin here, just to fill you in on the important parts of this story before you read:

This is rated 'M' for a reason, especially in this chapter- and it is M/M. You've been warned.

The following chapters will be unlikely to contain much mature content, however.

It's also slightly AUish, there will be no pokemon or pokemon training.

Hopefully you'll enjoy this story, it's going to be an interesting ride that I'm looking forward to!

Enjoy! xoxoxo

.~*~.

Today was the day everything had gone wrong. Today was the day that the shipment of Devon Corp.'s latest product failed to arrive. Today was the day that the meeting with every associate from Silph Co. was cancelled due to "inclement weather." Today was also the day that Steven, as vice president, had to scramble to cancel the catering, transportation, entertainment and lodging for 750 guests, none of which were refundable. Today was the day that the goddamn dry-cleaners ruined 3 of Steven's finest suits.

Obviously when Brawly asked Steven to go out for drinks with him tonight, he didn't hesitate to oblige.

Steven was never a heavy drinker, but today- this horrific day- allowed for an exception. His objective was to drink until his god-awful headache ceased to wrack his skull with pain. The night was still fairly young and Steven was losing count of how many drinks he'd already finished. It was somewhere shortly after 8 beers, he thought, although it didn't matter. He had no intentions of stopping until the pain went away. Brawly had disappeared into the crowd of dancers somewhere around five beers. At 5 beers and 1 shot of gin it was just after midnight so Steven assumed it was about 12:30…or something.

He found himself alone at the bar, two…or was it three shots of gin in, downing another glass quickly and practically slamming it down on the counter. The nightclub, Roxanne's, was hot and had a distinct smell of cigarettes, alcohol and sweat. The music that overwhelmed the room was heavy and thudding, fueling the pulsating bodies that littered the dance floor with the electronic charges of sound. Steven much preferred a quiet bar with little to no music, better yet- drinking alone at home until slipping into an alcohol-induced slumber, but Brawly insisted on coming here; something about hooking up with Roxanne and party, he wasn't quite sure what the blue haired surfer was rambling about, however inconsequential. The young business tycoon merely wanted to erase all memories of his dreadful day. Unfortunately, it seemed as though his present thoughts were the ones afflicted by the alcohol, his headache and memories remained unscathed.

The memory of Mr. Stone, his father, screaming at him and frantic employees running around to meet deadlines and deliver messages was still too fresh in his mind. The silverette slumped against the counter and flagged the bartender down for the umpteenth time that night. After mumbling something about another glass of gin the bartender gave him an incredulous look.

"I'm sorry sir, but don't you think you should slow down?" Steven all but glowered at the young man and shoved his money forward. Slowing down was not an option.

"Not as long as I have this fucking headache." He was rather pleased that his words weren't quite slurred yet, but relief still felt far off. The bartender took the money and slid a frothy glass of golden liquid across the countertop.

"If that doesn't fix your problem, nothing will." And he walked off to tend to other customers. He'd better be right.

Steven spun around on the barstool, taken aback at how difficult it was to keep his balance. He was practically teetering on the narrow stool.

On the dance floor the countless bodies continued to pulsate as they had all night; Brawly appeared to be long gone, not that Steven particularly cared. He took a mouthful of the bitter liquid and noticed the haze of drunkenness that had already spread throughout his body.

At this point He'd lost any concept of time, but his glass was now empty and the room was rocking much more than it had earlier that evening. He leaned back against the counter to keep himself from keeling over while he scanned the crowd of dancers.

It was surprising to see so many people out at a club on a…what was it again? Thursday? Maybe it was Friday; he didn't strain himself to remember. Most of the people had grabbed a partner to dance with at this point and were thrusting about the floor together. Steven had never been a dancer; once he'd taken waltzing lessons under the persistence of his mother, who insisted that every properly-raised young man should have the ability to Ballroom dance, but that was the extent of his dancing experience.

Although, much to Steven's confusion, he found it somewhat entrancing to watch the colorful figures cavort about the room. The ability of dancing while drunk, let alone sober, seemed like a feat far beyond his capability. Nevertheless, the intoxicated businessman slid further back against the hard marble and watched the gyrating bodies with unfocused eyes.

Then he saw it. The flash of ruby colored gems that would change his life completely. They caught his attention, only visible for a moment, just before disappearing behind pale lids as quickly as they appeared. He must have been mistaken to think such a vivid color could be one's eyes. He struggled to keep his unsteady vision on the owner of said eyes, hoping to catch another glimpse.

The dancer was alone, they seemed so in tune with the heavily thumping beat of the music- eyes closed the entire time. Steven felt himself getting lost in the fluid movement of their body, pulsing and swaying as if no one else existed but them. Eyes eased open, garnet glistening eyes that surely weren't figments of his inebriated imagination. Their gaze was pointed in Steven's general direction, seeming to look over him before slipping closed once again. The beat of the music changed and their dancing became more suggestive; hips revolving in small black shorts, back arching and hands traveling exposed hips. What captured Steven almost as much as those unrealistic eyes were the smooth, pale legs left vulnerable from the small shorts. He could hardly pry his gaze from those milky white thighs, entranced by the way they danced and swung with the music, rolled with narrow hips and smoothly sashayed as they came closer.

He barely noticed that the dancer stopped thrusting with the music and began to saunter in his direction. Thighs were close. Maybe I could touch them.

"Mister," He looked up, oh god those eyes were looking at him. "Are you just gonna stare at me or are you gonna dance?" Steven's lips parted in a surprised "oh" when soft hand on his chin drew him closer to those overwhelming eyes. They couldn't be real. Due to a noticeable lack of breasts under the tight black crop top and a lovely tenor voice Steven concluded that he was, in fact, a boy. Steely blue eyes glanced down at tight black shorts and creamy thighs, noting the slight protrusion of fabric. Definitely a boy.

The dancer's body was close now. Really close. Steven could feel the warmth coming off of it, his thigh brushed against black slacks and he leaned in closer to Steven's confused face. He smelled like alcohol and a spicy cologne, which Steven found to be more intoxicating than the alcohol. His mouth was near Steven's ear, hand on his chest.

"Don't pretend to be clueless. I saw you staring at me out there." His hands, which were smaller than Steven realized grabbed larger ones and lifted them, guiding. "So, handsome, do you just want to watch…" He placed large hands on his exposed hips, beneath loose hoodie flaps. His hips were warm and soft in Steven's hands, his breath felt amazing against Steven's tense neck. "Or touch?" His breathy whisper in Steven's ear practically made the older man topple over on his stool.

Little hands grasping Steven's jacket began to pull him from his seat, ruby eyes even more forceful than the hands. The thin hips in his grasp began to move with the beat once again, trying to draw him to the dance floor. Large hands hooked onto the exposed skin of his waist and stopped the boy from pulling him. I could never dance with someone like him. Not like this.

"Can't dance." The silver-haired mumbled towards the stranger, surprised to feel his body close in on once again; Hand tangled in his hair, smooth thighs straddling him in the stool and lips placed just below his ear.

"Let's go do something else then." Lips crashed against Steven's in a heated kiss, he was almost feral in the way he devoured the helpless lips. Steven didn't stand a chance against this little imp. His tongue took little hesitation in invading his mouth and exploring aggressively, eventually slowing down to an excruciatingly teasing dance. It seemed everything about this boy was fluid and rhythmic.

Steven could barely keep himself from stumbling over once the ruby-eyed stranger moaned into his mouth; He could feel bony hips press ardently against his stomach. Breaking the hungry kiss, Steven panted and lifted him from his lap.

"All right, let's go." The smile that grew on those soft lips seemed too enthused to be a good sign, but caution was for the sober. Steven snaked an arm around his waist and pulled him in for a quick, suggestive kiss. The ruby-eyed stranger practically growled into his mouth and placed a rough slap on Steven's ass before grabbing his arm and yanking.

"I live around the block. If we run we should be to my apartment in less than three minutes." And he took off, sprinting for the exit. He turned around and waved for Steven to follow before pushing through the doors. Steven's feet took off and his body followed along at a trot that was comfortable enough as to not upset his stomach or balance.

Black hair and pale thighs were a few building down, still within sight and turning. Steven's heart was absolutely bursting with adrenaline. This had to be the most exhilarating thing to happen to him in ages!

Chasing the slender figure into an apartment building, up two flights of stairs and down a hallway Steven finally caught up to him while he fumbled to retrieve his key. The chase had only proved to intensify the hunger Steven felt for this little stranger. He made no effort to ease this process for the boy, pinning him to the door by his hips and molesting his neck between labored breaths. A muffled moan escaped his throat and hips bucked back against Steven's crotch, pressing evocatively and urgently.

"Let me unlock this door or I'm going to fuck you in the hallway." He groaned out fumbling to slip the key into the door while pinned down. With a vicious suck to the pale skin of his neck, Steven obliged. Within seconds the silverette shoved the black haired boy into his apartment and all but slammed him against the closed door. Their lips mashed together in a lascivious battle for dominance, tongues tactlessly sliding together. It was wet, messy and hot. Not long after, he fisted the material of Steven's jacket and pushed him backwards to the bedroom.

The larger man was forced backwards onto a soft mattress, mouth still invading his own eagerly, while his hands began to remove Steven's blazer and unbutton his shirt. Large hands slid the loose hoodie from slender shoulders before stroking up and down his smooth, lean arms.

He was smaller, his weight was comfortable atop Steven, and his body was lithe, pale and absolutely stunning. Steven craved to cover every inch of it with all kinds of possessive marks. Lips were mashed together once more and his small hands groped at Steven's torso; he had to fight the urge to squirm under those teasing fingertips. Some small, overwhelmed part of Steven's conscience was whispering to think about what he was doing; the remaining portions of his brain were flooded with drunkenness and pure lust for this sexy little body. The whispering conscience inside of him was easily silenced by the enthusiastic tongue lapping at his lips.

Larger, rough hands caressed those smooth thighs that had captivated him at the club; they were even silkier than they looked. Breaking the messy kiss, Steven flipped him onto his back and spread pale thighs easily. He gasped when his lips first met the delicate skin there, gentle at first, encouraged by the small pleasurable sounds and quivering muscles under his lips to be more aggressive. He began sucking on the pale skin possessively, leaving a trail of marks and little bites along the inside of his legs. When his cries became desperate and hips began to arch up he pulled Steven away and flipped their positions again.

With his back pressed against the mattress and waist mounted by the beauty, Steven felt utterly intoxicated. His body was overwhelmed with the sensations, even more so when smaller hips began to grind themselves against his own.

The stranger moaned against his lips and began to buck his hips more enthusiastically using his full weight, albeit not very much, to press himself against Steven's own arousal. He could feel a tightening in his stomach when the boy whimpered in his ear, his hips cantering wildly. Steven's head was swimming from the sounds alone, the groans of the bedsprings in protest to his enthusiasm, desperate moans against his skin and the throbbing of his heart in his ears- along with the influence of alcohol- caused Steven's head to spin. Large hands curled into soft black hair, pulling him into a close kiss when his fingers groped at Steven's own groin and rubbing. Everything was so good. His body was hot, his breathing was ragged and uneven- like the garnet-eyed boy- and he couldn't even speak coherently any more.

"Ah-Ahhh feels…yesss! I'm close…" The boy mewled against his lips and thrashed hips even harder, practically fucking Steven into the mattress. A few more thrusts, the tightness in his stomach becoming unbearable, and they were both at their breaking point. "Nngh! Fuck!" He cried out against Steven's neck, tensed as he filled the tiny black shorts with his release. Steven bit down roughly on the stranger's pale shoulder as he came, groaning quietly while the boy whimpered and trembled.

The ruby-eyed beauty was gasping and panting against his skin, his full body weight against Steven's own when they finished. Once the smaller body relaxed, Steven rolled him over and looked up, hoping to see more of his lovely eyes up close. Unfortunately, pale eyelids sheathed the rubies and his lips were parted slightly, his breathing calm and slow. Was he…sleeping? You've got to be kidding me…

Steven nudged his cheek gently, trying to provoke a response- to no avail. The black-haired boy merely flopped over and snuggled into his pillow with a small sigh. Unbelievable.

Reality began to seep back into Steven's hazy mind, with an unwelcome reminder of the time. He scanned the room to spot a glowing alarm clock on the boy's nightstand. 4:24. Fuck. He had to be at work in about 4 hours, which he was in no condition for. Before getting out of the bed he stared at the young face again, relaxed and serene with sleep. It wasn't just the alcohol coursing through his system clouding his judgment, this boy was lovely. Steven felt a small tug of his heart to cuddle next to the boy in bed and enjoy the little sounds he made as he slept. His better sense of judgment warned him otherwise, refusing to let him stay and see this bad decision out fully; He needed to quickly make his leave.

After tucking the slumbering figure beneath the fluffy comforter and leaving a glass of water by the bed, Steven fumbled out of the apartment building with hopes of making it home before the sun rose.

...

No amount of scalding water and scrubbing could get rid of the sticky, dirty feeling that Steven could so vividly remember on his stomach and hips. Tonight had to be the most reckless foolish decision he'd made ever. With work in the morning, deadlines to meet and drinking himself into oblivion, having a one-night stand was not an acquisition he was proud of. Let alone a one-night stand with a mysterious little imp- however lovely his eyes may be.

The worst part of it all was that his headache returned with a vengeance. It felt like his skull was splitting open from the extreme pressure and throbbing. The boiling water pelting him sounded like a million little bullets hitting the porcelain tub to his hypersensitive ears. Fuck hangovers. Pale skin was red and sore from the aggressive scouring and he was reeling from exhaustion. Still, he just couldn't get himself clean.

Steven quit trying to rub his skin off, stumbled out of the shower, not even bothering to dry his hair, and slipped into a bathrobe. He didn't even have the energy- or coordination for that matter- to put on proper night clothes as he slipped into his welcoming bed. Trying his hardest to forget absolutely everything that happened and to ignore his pounding head, Steven closed his eyes and let much needed sleep consume him.

...

Coffee. Steven clutched at his head and stumbled into his office with what little grace he could muster- which was very little. He needed coffee, and a lot of it.

He tossed his coat haphazardly over the leather computer chair and collapsed into said chair shortly after. Waking up on the late side was a given, which meant skipping breakfast and, more importantly, coffee. Steven made no hesitation to scramble through his desk drawer and fish out a small bottle of ibuprofen, taking the pills dry. He desperately wished that the little pills would be enough of a relief to get him through the day. As he struggled to twist the cap back on, his office door flung open with a shuddering thud against the wall. Jumping at the sound and dropping the bottle, Steven cursed while little white pills scattered everywhere. Great.

Mr. Stone strolled into the office with a cheerfulness that made Steven grit his teeth. How anyone could be such a morning person was beyond him, but on mornings like this such enthusiasm only managed to piss him off.

"Good morning, my boy! Oh, looks like you've got butter fingers." Mr. Stone chuckled, much to Steven's annoyance. He managed to bite back any angry retorts that came to him, simply responding with a grunt. He had to get down on the floor to pick up the scattered pills on the carpet and under his desk.

"What do you want, dad?" Steven groaned from beneath the desk, generally disinterested in his father's visit but trying to speed up the process of removing the loud man from his office.

"I came here to remind you that your new assistant starts today! A very promising young man, I think he'll be a great help to you. You know, when I first had him running errands for me I considered keeping him as my own assistant, but then I thought 'No, I have Steven do all of the difficult work for me anyway. He'll surely need the boy more than me!' Especially with all of the company-" Steven cut him off before the loud man could ramble any more.

"That's great dad. Where is he?" There was actually hesitation before Mr. Stone continued to talk.

"Well…He should be here any minute. He called in to let us know he'd be running a little- Ah! Here he comes!" Mr. Stone laughed heartily and Steven heard running feet come into the room. "We were just talking about you, it was right on cue!"

Steven had to fight the urge to bash his head into the desk. The last thing he needed was an unreliable, inexperienced assistant to bog him down with more work. Training new employees was tedious and a waste of time. Steven hadn't even wanted an assistant, his father just cavorted into his office one day and told him the wonderful news that he would be getting a new assistant; who had no qualifications whatsoever. His only warrant to the position was that Mr. Stone had taking a shining to him; but really who hadn't he taken a shining to?

"Welcome to Devon Corp, son! I trust that you had no difficulty getting here?" Steven heard a small voice through the desk.

"Ah, no sir.''

"Marvelous! This is where you'll be working from now on, with my very own son. He's a bit of a stick in the mud, so don't let him work you too hard." The president chuckled boisterously. Steven just rolled his eyes and collected the last of the scattered pills.

"If you would not come into my office and blatantly insult me, I would appreciate it." He grumbled, crawling out from behind the thick wood and brushing off his shirt.

"Anyway, meet my son, the vice president, Steven. Steven, this is your assistant, Brendan." Steven shoved the bottle back into the drawer and glanced up at the boy standing with his father.

Lanky body, pale skin, dark black hair, and vivid ruby eyes stood before him, smiling and waiting. Steven felt his body freeze and his heart practically stop.

This has to be a joke.

.~*~.

Thanks for reading everyone! I hope you like the story so far, things are going to get interesting ;)

Please review/comment! I love to hear feedback from all of you, if you have anything you'd like to see in this story or have any suggestions I'd love to hear those as well! (Your responses are what encourage me to upload more!)
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Until next time, Chayin