I should be sent somewhere far away for devoting myself and so much of my time to such an ungodly pairing, and then maybe punished five times over for making it as lewd as possible, but I guess that's not a crime in the eyes of the law.

I'd be lying to you if I told you this story doesn't push the T-rating envelope to its very limits, teetering on the edge of both it and the adults-only zone. Fortunately I'm not too keen on writing full frontal assault with the kind of vocabulary that makes it sound like it came straight out of Shakespeare's ass, so we're stuck in the T-zone. Marvelous.

If you, for whatever reason, want to let me know that you're reading the story, the best thing you can do is provide feedback. That's it, simply review, favorite, anything, tell me what you liked, didn't like so much, etc. etc., it helps me because it lets me know what you like about the story and what I can do to re-tool it, so it better satisfies you. Thanks in advance for your courtesy.

Word Count: 2853 words.

The One Where They Talk About Naughty Things

Calem sneaks into the bedroom in the middle of the night, as cunning as can be. Of course, Serena is still awake and the light is still on, she always keeps it on this late in order to further enrich her mind about meticulous subjects which she cares not even an ounce for. It's kind of her 'thing'.

Her pointless, pointless thing.

'What a nerd.' he thinks, and it's partially true. The girl is certainly the smarter of the two, excelling in areas that otherwise baffle and befuddle Calem's typical boy-mind. And whether that excelling is out of genuine rank pulling or femininity pandering, he doesn't know.

Regardless of which of the two is superior and which is the inferior, it doesn't change just how damn good she looks right then and there. Not that Serena isn't always utterly beautiful, a fact that Calem reminds himself constantly whenever he takes 'inappropriate' looks here and there. It's just that now, in this moment, it feels as if it's been multiplied.

To describe it in one word.

Tantalizing.

In addition to the above, he also has to remind himself frequently how fortunate he is to be traveling with such a tempting maiden, and even more fortunate that her tolerance levels are so forgiving.

'I hope I don't look like a creep just popping in unannounced...'

Dorks cannot be creeps. Creeps can be dorks, but never vice-versa.

Serena's sprawled out on their bed reading, her hair draping over her like a curtain, socked legs slowly kicking to and fro with a sort-of collected air to them. Without question, his eyes are drawn to them in an instant, particularly because their contribution to the zeitgeist of zettai ryouiki is so ungodly that the only umbrella term that can be used to contain it all is ghastly.

It's a dirty, kinky little salacious thing for such an unadulterated, pathetic twig-boy like him to be interested in. It's probably up there with her perky breasts.

So, so fortunate.

Except not really because she hates him from here to the moon every other hour of every day and her uncooperative stances are only demeaning him of his chances. Of which there are only so many to begin with.

He'll even settle for rebound at this point. Not that that scenario would ever come to fruition anyhow, as low on the scale as he is, Calem recalls her mentioning off-handily on one occasion that he's some tiers higher on the scale than his seldom-seen acquaintances, redhead and tubby will ever be.

The fact in itself that he's the 'best' of their little group of misfits gives him slight hope that one day, he'll finally receive compensation for pulling so many damn strings to get a good ending.

It's a sliver of a chance, but a chance regardless.

Since it's late, he's tired, and she unwillingly shares the bed with him because of his disdain for cold floors, Calem saunters closer and closer to the bed, his presence still undetected by the goddess in front of him.

Serena is lying smack dab in the middle of the bed with no room for him to squeeze in. While reasonably comfortable, snug, cozy, and all of the above, the bed isn't exactly the right size to properly accommodate two people without stark intimacy going on to make for space.

He loves that. She doesn't.

Or at least, she says she doesn't.

Without further hesitation and his motives completely justified by circumstanstial devices, Calem jettisons all potential risks, injuries, and seldom-accorded kisses and dives into the black, fiery abyss of surface-scraping scorn.

He lolls down on top of her back, embracing her abdomen with that sweet sort-of 'Calem' smile. The kind of content, yet dorky gesture that lets others know that he's damn well composed.

The scent of her hair is absolutely intoxicating.

"Hello," he whispers into her ear with blatant hints of childish optimism.

Serena is not amused.

The moment he plops his lanky body—ripe with ungodly hormones and a lack of testosterone—she jerks up, shivers circulating throughout her own physique.

She is alerted to his unforgiving presence in an instant, the shock is so tense, that the book engrossing her curiosity slips through her fingers, and tumbles onto the bed.

"Get. Off of me. Right now."

Serena deems it as almost offensive that he would even dare do such a thing. The girl is no pillow, and frankly she would rather lie on a searing path of burning coals than have him lounging on top of her.

"Oh wow, is something wrong? You were so calm like, ten seconds ago, but now you're blowing a fuse all of a sudden. What's the matter?" his tone is sweet, welcoming, the way he words his sentences is intentionally trying to be cutesy, and it frustrates her even more.

It's like the boy is playing some sort of dumb, childish game with her, and considering who he is, it's certainly a possibility. What with he being the only person that ever manages to forcefully drag her out of her zone of unperturbed tranquility.

"You know what the matter is."

"Has anyone ever told you how pretty you look?"

She's not fun when she's angry. She's cute, but she's not fun.

"Yes. You have for one, thousands of times."

"But it's true, isn't it?"

"If you say so."

"You should have more confidence in yourself."

"I'm just being modest. Now get off of me."

But he doesn't, plainly because that's a stupid idea and stupid ideas are for stupid people who don't want to cop a feel of soft, delicate, creamy maiden skin and the french vanilla scent rolling off of it, all wrapped up in a delightfully dainty package.

'Yeah, I definitely should be locked up somewhere.'

Calem is at least smart enough to know not to say that and to keep it locked deep within his pathetically overloaded, brimming psyche of beta ignominies. Instead he steers away from her demands in an effort to diverge the conversation into something more friendly-like.

He gets an idea of what to talk about when he sees Serena picking up the book again, skimming and flipping through the pages for the part she was on prior to his interruption with an insouciant sort-of gaze.

"What are you reading about?"

"Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Why do you care?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

Serena recovers her page in no time while making a mental note to get a bookmark of some sort in the near future. She makes an effort to return to reading, but Calem continues prodding at her sides, quite literally at that.

"So... What's it about?"

"What part of 'leave me alone' don't you understand?"

"You didn't tell me to leave you alone, you told me to get off of you, you of all people should know that you still want my company."

"Are you going to get off, or do I have to make you? You're crushing my back with that stick build of yours."

Calem would work out more, but that's not really his forte and it never was in any portion of his life. Either way, he drones a sigh because he knows that their discussion won't go anywhere unless she unties the knots in her panties.

'Such a buzzkill.'

He rolls off of her back effortlessly, as lazily as possible, until he plops on the bed beside her. His genuine endeavor comes when he makes himself comfortable, and in order to do that, he nuzzles his cheek with hers, and tries to feign attentiveness to the book she seems so deeply entranced by.

"So, what'cha reading?" he asks again, hoping that this time he'll get an actual answer now that she has modicums, if anything, to nag about.

"A novel." Serena finally admits, contrary to his expectations and assumptions.

"Whoa, a novel? Really? That seems so unlike you! Usually you'd just be reading dumb crap about egg breeding or whatever, but an actual book? What have you done with my Serena!?" expressing false concern, he pokes her nose in order to test the 'legitimacy' of her identity.

Serena moves his hand away and rolls her eyes, again acting like the dullest tool in the shed, "Nothing's wrong with me, jackass. I just decided not to study tonight, okay?"

She's desperate to move on and get to the next paragraph, she's been re-reading the same sentence over and over again due to his consistent interjections, and just as she's mere words away from finishing, he butts in again.

"W-Well, that's fine then! I've got no qualms about it, it's nice trying to be normal for a change, ou should try it out more often. So… can I read it with you?"

She's quick to respond, "What."

"I-I mean, you know! Read it together, you know? We read at the same pace, maybe you give me a little something-something before we start so I know what the hell I'm reading to begin with, one of us reaches the end of one page first, we ask the other if they're almost done so they can turn the page—that sort of thing."

As soon as she catches wave of him trying to read a sentence on his own, she immediately closes the book, but makes sure to keep her thumb in the page she left on.

"Absolutely not."

"Aww, why not? For once I'm interested in one of your dumb hobbies and now you won't even let me know about it."

Serena blinks twice while staring out the window, momentarily stumped and at a loss of what excuses to make up. Eventually, she comes to a fork in the road and decides to say the first thing that comes out of her mouth.

"You read too slowly."

Unfortunately for her, Calem is quick to retort with self-defense, "No I don't."

"Yes you do."

"You're just calling excuses so I don't get to spend time with you," although peeved, he uses the opportunity to take a few loving nibbles on her neck, "you should stop doing that."

As much as she doesn't want to let down her guard, she can't help but ease slightly from his touch, "A-Ah… Pl-Please don't do that."

"Why? Do you like it?"

Rife with indignation, she lets out a 'hmph' and eases away from him, "Jerk."

Their petty little argument soon dissolves into somewhat tolerable silence, Calem doesn't prod Serena any further, allowing her to return to her book without any surplus berates to throw his way. As she does that, he focuses on counting the despicable little paint blisters on the wall.

Really, he's just biding his time for the right moment to strike, waiting for her guard to lower down enough that she doesn't expect anything to go wrong.

And it does.

Just as Serena finally gets to jump the belligerent hurdle that is the page she's been stuck on for the past ten minutes, Calem steals the book from her hands, right in the middle of her turning the page to the next.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?!"

"I'm just going to read a line or two, honest!"

Hook, line, and sinker. In no way could she have ever been prepared for that.

"Give it back!" she snarls, making a quick jab at him with one hand, and using the other to swipe back the book. But he sits up before she can, her shot misses, and he quickly scoots to the other end of the bed, novel in hand and intentions fully set on reading it.

"Come on, just two sentences!"

"No."

"One?"

"No."

"A word?"

"Seriously, give that back."

"Just one word, just one, then I promise to give it back, scout's honor."

Now truculent, Serena makes a defiant dive for him, landing right on his chest. Again however, her efforts are futile, he holds the book over her head, and despite her last-minute protests, Calem reads.

It's a mistake.

.

.

.

"S-Serena..."

"I know."

"Serena, this is a..."

"I know."

"Serena, this is... really, really dirty."

"I know, so what?!"

It only takes Calem three sentences tops to realize that the novel isn't just any novel, it's pure, unadulterated, unfiltered erotica. And the moment that revelation hits him like a brick upside his head, time comes to a complete stop.

Calem takes a blank glance at Serena, then looks down at the lecherously vulgar dialogue within the book, then back at Serena, then at the book's vividly lascivious imagery provided by a multitude risqué descriptions, all written specifically, definitely, and as salacious as humanely possible.

He likens it to comparing apples to oranges.

It's understandable why the girl looks away from him in sheer mortification, her face tinged red with a scarlet hue as deep as her skirt. Briefly, her eyes dart to his face just out of curiosity to see his reaction.

His blank gaze has been swapped with a smile and a few snickers to accompany it.

Truly, she was expecting something more chide-like.

"Wh-What? What's so funny?!"

"It's just...It's just...hot damn, that is too... wow. Just...geez, it's almost kind of funny. How the heck do you even read this garbage?"

"I read it like I would read anything else, now give it back."

Feeling as if greater emphasis is needed to prove a point, Calem holds up a finger, takes a deep breath, and reads aloud a most debauched piece of literature, "Ahem, 'he shoved the immense torpedo of a phallus down her gorge as it filled and filled with a plethora of surfeited juices, of which she, fueled by a combination of lust and dementia, could not be any more thankful of.'"

"That's just disgusting, and why the hell is it written so sophistically? Who the hell goes out of their way to sophistically write erotic books, and who the hell still reads that anyways?! Computers exist for reasons, you know!"

Finally seizing an opening, Serena snatches the book back, "For your information, we're nowhere near a proper computer right now, and the only ones are around for our use just transfer our Pokémon back and forth."

"Oh, I get it! So you're one of those people that just reads stories with long and overly-complicated 'smart' words just so that you can feel smart while reading it, right? "

"S-Shut up!"

Calem sees no reason to shut up when things are only just getting good, "How many times is the word 'persnickety' used in this chapter alone? Come on, let's read it together and find out. We can even make a little game about it, we'll take bets, and whoever wins can get a banana, okay?"

"Do you even listen to yourself talk?"

"Well, I did just hear myself recite some text-porn...so yes, I'd say I dabble in that area.-You know, you can get off of me any day now."

Serena says nothing, she just gives off that trademarked pout and returns to reading on her own, relaxing into his touch as if the previous argument had never even happened.

About ten seconds pass before Calem interrupts her again, right in the middle of her engagement with the second paragraph.

"Are you done with this page yet?"

"No, I just started."

"Oh! Well I'm done, can you go a bit faster? I want to know what happens after he cleans out the fruit basket."

"We're not reading together. Get it through your thick skull already."

"Why not? If it's because you think I'm not old enough to read this kind of smut then don't worry about it, my mom says I'm a 'big boy', so that means this is totally mature enough for my age."

She's not sure if he's being sarcastic or not.

"Why can't I just read this in peace? Why do you have to bother me every five seconds about the stupidest things?"

"Are you just taking your anger out on me because you're mad and embarrassed that I found out you read hilariously bad smut when no one's around? Come on, I won't tell anyone, honest!"

"You better not."

Once again, a wave of quietude returns to the room, neither he or she making so much as a squeak as their eyes skim over vivid sexual imagery, outlandish text, and dialogue riddled with obscenities, curses, and euphemisms in every other word, yet worded nicely so it sounds like it's coming from the mouth of a great thinker.

In this silent interval, they snuggle up to each other instinctively. Calem keeps an affectionate grip wrapped around his-all hopes willing-potential significant other, Serena on the other hand tries not to think too much about it.

"Hey, have you ever thought about us doing these kinds of things?"

As much as she wants to slap him, it would be in the benefit of further ruining the moment.

"You're not man enough." she says with that particular womanly scorn and air she's known for.

He gulps.

That was too much.

"Are you done with this page yet?"

"Almost. Stop being impatient."