Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/663735.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Pocket_Monsters:_Black_2_&_White_2_|_Pokemon_Black_2_&_White_2_Versions
  Relationship:
      Hyuu/Mei_|_Hugh/Rosa
  Additional Tags:
      Hotel_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-01-31 Words: 8398
****** Honeymoon ******
by Qu-ko_(Qu_the_Mighty)
Summary
     "Okay. Convince me we should honeymoon together. You get five
     minutes. Go."
Notes
     This is cheesy and takes pride in its own cheesiness, because Hugh
     and Rosa have enough sugar-cheese in combination to cause actual
     real-life cavities and stomachaches.
     (It couldn't be the Cheez-Its I was eating, no way.)
     And, well. There's never a bad reason for smut if you ask me.
Their stay had been fully paid for; with a flash of a credit card that had
certainly been lent to her by her PokeStar Studios manager or Elesa or probably
anyone who wasn't Clay, Rosa was handed two keys by the hotel receptionist.
Neither of them had any large bags to carry up, so they simply took the
elevator to the thirtieth floor.
The room was a suite, the best of the best, and Hugh had to remind himself not
to be surprised at the kinds of connections Rosa must have had to acquire such
a room. Not that it mattered what kind of room she got, anyway - her eagerness
to have him participate in the tournament with her this time, and then to share
her hotel room with her when he'd tried to use the no-money too-lazy excuse,
automatically overrode any opinions he might have had about it.
Partially because she pulled that little sister act. Especially because she
pulled that little sister act.
The design of the suite was very different from what few paid hotels Hugh had
ever stayed in in his life. Four rooms in an open layout, built around the
kitchen and living area, plus a modest but exceedingly private bathroom (they'd
obviously been anticipating rich couples in this room). The two of them only
had a brief chance to glimpse around the room before a few of the housekeeping
staff chased them out, claiming they hadn't finished cleaning the room yet.
"A room that big, it's no wonder they're not done yet," Hugh grumbled.
"Okay, let's go get some snacks and stuff, then!" Rosa grinned, cheerful as
ever.
"What?"
"You know, like a sleepover? We haven't had one of those in a long time. I
kinda miss it," she said dreamily.
Never mind that Hugh knew for a fact neither his parents nor Rosa's mother
would stop at just suspicious looks if they ever found out about two
adolescent, opposite-sex best friends suddenly having sleepovers again. Rosa's
mother in particular read far too many trashy romance novels for her own good.
They eventually returned to the room with as many bags of junk food and bottles
of soda as they could carry, now free of maids to kick them out.
"Good, now we're all set! Tonight's gonna be awesome!" Rosa said, trying to get
the door closed and discovering her hands were too full.
Hugh kicked it shut instead. "You gonna be okay with only one responsible adult
around, Rosie?"
Rosa let the goodies in her arms fall into a messy heap on top of the fancy
duvet. "Hey, don't call me that!" she griped.
"Why not, Rosie?" he persisted. From the grin on his face, he was only teasing,
but she gave him a withering look.
"'Cause it's childish." She located a stack of plastic cups from the bathroom
as Hugh added his pile to the mess on the bed, plopping down ungracefully
beside the whole thing, exhaling with the effort.
"Yeah, I guess it is."
Rosa poured a cup full of the first soda she could get her hands on and held it
out to Hugh, who took it and stared blankly into its contents. Curiously, she
sipped at a cup of it herself, and found that sure enough, it was peachy and
sickly-sweet. She eyed him again, holding the silence a moment longer before
voicing her thoughts.
"You okay? You've been kinda quiet since we got here. You better not go into
the tournament all mopey, Hugh!"
"Just thinking, I guess..." Realizing he'd been gazing too vacantly into his
drink, he drained half the cup in one gulp and set it on the nightstand,
collapsing in a heap on the tower of too-fluffy pillows at the head of the
mattress.
"Ah," Rosa pronounced, feeling slightly foolish as she took a seat on the bed
covers, opposite her best friend across the mound of junk. "Sorry about that...
I just think if there's any time for us to grow up, it's probably now. I'm
sixteen, you're seventeen, and we both played a part in saving the world not
too long ago and everything."
Hugh gave her a startled glance, so genuine she couldn't quite tell if he was
joking or really taken aback by the sentiment. "Who are you and what have you
done with Rosa?"
"Ha ha, very funny. I can be serious too, you know!"
"I don't think I've ever seen you be serious more than four times in my life."
"Sure you have," she said petulantly. "What about when we graduated elementary
school and I was at the top of the class? That was really important to me, I
took it very seriously!"
"You gave a speech about baking cakes,Rosa. With props."
Rosa paused, expression falling slightly. "Oh... that's right, I did. I think
I've even still got the apron."
"But my point was that you're always an airhead like that. So when you start
getting serious about anything, of course I'm going to check to make sure
you're not a pod person or something." Hugh went back over his words in his
head and frowned. It hadn't come out as humorously as he'd meant it to, and
Rosa certainly wasn't laughing.
"But I don't want to be stuck as a little girl forever in everyone's eyes.
Yours, either. Don't you want that, too? Not to be a helpless little boy
forever?"
She managed to hit the nail on the head with the terrifying accuracy only a
best friend could. "I do, but—" He stopped. The intervening pause was enough
time for Hugh to find a suitable distraction, long enough for the previous
train of thought to be safely lost. "Hey, why in the world do you still have
that apron? Does it even fit you anymore?"
"I don't know, but even so, I never throw anything away," Rosa replied, smiling
again. "Who knows when it might come in handy?"
"...An apron."
"Sure! What if the Village Bridge Restaurant invites me in as a guest waitress,
but they're short on aprons? Trainer Rosa to the rescue!"
"That thing fit you when you were nine years old. You probably couldn't even
get it on now. No way it'd fit around your—"
He bit the last word off hastily before he made a potentially horrifying
mistake.
"Well, who cares, anyway? I can be as foolish as I want to by myself, you know.
Nobody has to live inside my head or anything."
"I'm not sure 'Trainer Rosa to the rescue' works as well when it's you yelling
it aloud."
"So I'll mime it then!" she amended. Hugh rolled his eyes, finishing his cup of
soda and reaching for a bag of chips for moral support.
"How do you propose to mime that?" he asked, and knew he would probably come to
regret it. To his immense relief, however, Rosa did not immediately leap up to
demonstrate.
"I could come sweep you off your feet and carry you to safety," she suggested
helpfully, refilling her own cup and grinning.
"No way!" Hugh snapped, and then added before she could speak again, "You don't
need to do that to anyone at a not one word about a honeymoon, either! If
you're gonna give up on Rosie, you better give up on that stupid joke too." He
lowered his voice and griped, "I can't believe my sister would say something
like that..."
Rosa pouted. "But why? What if I don't want to give up on honeymooning with
you?"
"Hey, which one of us was it that was talking about growing up?"
"But that is grown up," Rosa said softly. "I mean, I think I..."
"You think what?" demanded Hugh, annoyed. "Think you're going to go on yelling
it across Unova for the next few years?" He winced at his own tone of voice.
That was a little louder than he'd intended to be. "It's embarrassing, jeez.
You're going in reverse order, anyway!"
A wicked gleam suddenly sparked in Rosa's eyes. She put her cup down far out of
range and launched herself across the enormous bed, over the mound of potato
chip bags and cookie boxes to tackle Hugh. He went down, flat on his back on
the mattress, Rosa grinning like crazy on top of him, and he flushed while time
ticked by around them.
"You," she pronounced at last, "are such a closet romantic."
"I am not! You little brat!"
After a small tussle, the two of them ended on the floor, and then lunged
simultaneously for the nearby couch and the cache of pillows thereon,
scrambling all over each other to get first dibs. Hugh was taller and had a
longer reach, but Rosa was faster, getting in the first whack of the pillow
fight — squarely to Hugh's right shoulder. He countered with a couch cushion to
the head, and the two of them continued pelting each other with overstuffed
shams, folded blankets, and throw pillows until they were out of useful
ammunition. They eventually collapsed, panting, to the floor.
"My masculinity demandedI punish you for that statement," Hugh wheezed.
"Well, we wouldn't be in this situation if you weren't trying to tell me the
things I want are immature all the time," panted Rosa in return, reaching for
her drink, miraculously unspilled in the chaos. She drained it, poured another,
and drained that one as well.
"Huh?" said Hugh, intelligently, after a long pause.
"I won't shout it out in public or anything, but stop telling me it's stupid."
Rosa had reverted to sulking again, slumped against the panels of a windowside
banquette that jutted out into the room. "I can be as much of an idiot as I
want in private, and I enjoy it, too! I mean, I was sort of hoping that since
we're best friends, I could let the idiocy out in front of you, too... but I
guess I can't have everything."
Hugh stared. Attempting to add two and two was only getting him three and
change. He poured another cup of soda in an attempt to make the change vanish.
"Oh, Hugh," Rosa sighed, "you need a girlfriend, seriously."
He choked. Cherry soda dribbled down his chin as Hugh attempted to regain his
breath and the shreds of his dignity.
"Oh, what about that one girl we've been doing all that fun stuff in the
Nimbasa amusement park with? You know, Yancy? Isn't she really cute?"
"I guess," he said, averting his gaze. "I wouldn't mind talking to her more,
but— why is this even coming up, anyway? What difference does it make?!"
"Don't you like girls?"
Hugh added two and two together again, and not only did the change stubbornly
refuse to disappear, but the three was looming larger this time. Rosa reached
back and hauled herself up onto the arm of the disassembled couch, slim legs
sprawling down its length, then put a hand down again to pluck her cup from the
floor.
"Then you must like boys! What about Nate?"
"I— no!" Hugh sputtered. "How could that even— Nate is— isn't he constantly
flirting with you, anyway?! He's— He's not even curvy!"
Rosa gazed straight at him, owl-eyed and serious for a long moment, then burst
into howls of laughter, curling up on the upholstered cushion in spasms. "Oh my
god," she said, brushing tears from her face, "for a second there, I was
tempted to tell you he definitely swings both ways, just to see you turn more
of that cute color."
Hugh felt his face heat up, certain it was uniquely red by now. "Rosa—"
"Oh, good, you're turning it anyway."
"J-Jeez! Knock it off!" he muttered. "I was just trying to... just... oh, never
mind!" He gave up in the face of her hysterical giggling, filled his cup to the
top again and drank most of it, forcing the blush away.
"Sorry, sorry... but the look on your face..." Rosa shook her head. "Anyway,
men have curves, too, you know. Nate's kind of got a tree climber build, you
know? Just, ah, stuff like the arch where his chest meets his arms, or the
slope of his shoulders, or even that cute little line down the side of his neck
when he's battling really hard... Oh, Hugh, you're turning that color again."
Hugh didn't bother correcting her again. To hell with it, anyway. "You
obviously like guys. Have you ever even kissed one? Anybody at all?"
"Once," said Rosa, getting her breath back after the second laughing fit,
"excluding for acting purposes. But a lady doesn't kiss and tell."
Hugh gave her a flat glare.
"...except to her best friends." Rosa grinned at him, flashing brilliant teeth.
He preferred to think this was her expression of some stupid joke and a
courtesy to him, and not a survival reaction triggered by his having picked up
a throw pillow moments before, aiming it at Rosa's hair buns.
"When was this?"
"Last month."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Who was it?"
"You remember Curtis? Blonde, green eyes, kinda timid?"
Hugh nodded. "So what happened?"
"He asked me on the Ferris wheel, so I went to meet with him and kept him
company for a while."
"And you kissed him?"
"Um... he kissed me, actually," Rosa corrected. "When we got off and he was
about to go home. It wasn't bad," she added with a small smile, peering into
her cup, and then glancing at Hugh.
"Huh? Oh." Hugh took the hint and handed over the bottle of soda. Rosa frowned
at him.
"So, Hugh, you really made it all the way until now without ever...?"
"Not like anyone's ever taught me how."
Rosa's face suddenly changed completely, split by a wide, wicked grin. "You
know, I do a lot of stage kisses on-screen nowadays... Maybe it doesn't count
since it's acting, but there's gotta be some truth to the whole thing—"
"Pass," Hugh spat, then caught himself when she puffed her cheeks at him. "I
mean... It'd be kinda weird, that's all. There's no way teaching each other how
to kiss is normal for best friends..."
Rosa pondered this, munching on a handful of chips. "You know, Hugh, if that's
weird to you, maybe normal isn't just something set in stone like that."
Hugh opened his mouth, closed it again, regrouped his thoughts and opened it a
second time. "You're being weird again."
"Not really. Don't I call you on the xtransceiver and then shout your name in
my most adorable voice at the top of my lungs when we're not together?"
"Yes, you do. I wish you wouldn't."
"And don't I do it without fail every day we're apart?"
"Like I said, I wish you didn't."
"So, if I didn't call you one day, or shouted something different, like
'Sweetie!' – that would be different, right?"
"Yeah, sure," Hugh repeated, cringing at the idea of being called "Sweetie."
"So, isn't that just normal for us?"
He eyeballed her, grave misgivings about the conversation hovering in the back
of his mind. "What?"
"Normal is that thing you do every day, duh! That routine you follow. Don't we
have a routine, Hugh?" Rosa asked with a pseudo-sugary tone.
"I— I guess. But that's not normal," Hugh protested. "Normal also means things
that other people do daily. Other people do not have famous trainers buzzing
them every day to shout endearments loud enough for everyone around to hear!"
Rosa clamped her lips shut. "Well, maybe they should start."
Tiredly, Hugh heaved himself over a few feet to slump against the window seat
Rosa occupied, letting his head thunk against the wood. He barely felt it. His
brain was on the verge of shutting down, too frazzled to figure out what she
wanted and too foggy to think long enough to ask about it. No response — or
even meaning — for that last statement sprang easily to mind, and he was almost
ready to proclaim the hell with everythingand pass out on the floor.
"Rosa," he said, "if you mean something by that, explain it, because I think
you're talking about girl things here. You're always the one telling me I'm a
dumb boy, so I'm not going to get it. If not, let's find something better to
talk about."
Rosa stayed quiet for a moment.
"There are a lot of normal people in this world. They go to school, go to work,
go out with friends, and they never, ever do anything out of the ordinary. They
don't change anything. But you do. You did,Hugh. By becoming a pokemon trainer,
by going out to find your sister's purrloin, by fighting Team Plasma to do it."
She poured her umpteenth drink, swallowing the last of the punch in one tense
motion. "You can't be normal again, Hugh. You've already done too much. You've
changed the world! Or at least," she added, "you changed my world," and crushed
her cup in her fist with a final, echoic, hollow noise. Rosa then tucked her
hands neatly back into her lap and resumed staring silently out the window.
What the hell?
Hugh stared, dumbfounded, at Rosa's destroyed cup. There was something
important in that monologue, he just... had to figure out what itwas, before
she went and did something stupid like brush it aside.
Changing the world was an awfully funny thing for Rosa, one of Unova's beloved
national heroes, to be talking about. Under normal circumstances, absolutely
nothing could dislodge the sweet grin from her face, whether she was tending to
her pokemon or taking on the unhinged leader of Team Plasma. Changing Rosa's
world would have taken a hell of a lot of effort that Hugh didn't recall
putting forth, unless he was counting all the energy he'd spent every time he
tried to stomp it down when she called him on getting mushy and sentimental.
He poured himself another cup of courage. Then another. (Rosa seemed to find
the view fascinating at this point.) He poured a third. Then he finally set the
empty jug of juice down on the carpet and reseated himself on the very corner
of the window bench, next to her feet.
"Okay," Hugh said. "Convince me we should honeymoon together." Rosa turned to
look at him as if he'd grown a second head. "You get five minutes," he added.
"Go."
She looked positively stricken. "H-How?!"
"Any way you want."
"You'll have to put your cup down, then."
Hugh practically choked. "N— Talk first, Rosa."
"You're never any fun," she muttered, then said, "Well, let's see. I'm cute,
I'm popular, I'm housebroken, and I don't shed..." He groaned, and Rosa shot
him a lopsided grin. "Oh! I'm a movie star, too. And I'm witty, and friendly,
and fun to be around!" She took a moment to breathe, facetiously pretending to
be thinking hard. "But really, all of that aside, I think the most important
reason is that I'm in love with you, and I want to make you happy."
Rosa aimed a gorgeous grin at Hugh, who had been trying very hard to drink, but
was having a remarkable amount of trouble getting himself to swallow after that
last statement.
"I won't do anything you tellme to, but I'll do anything for you... Hugh? Are
you still breathing?"
"No," Hugh croaked, fighting his drink every inch of the way. He coughed a
couple times, and then resolved firmly not to try and ingest anything next time
he gave Rosa permission to do something like this ever again. "I'm fine, I'm
fine—" he protested when she dove to start pounding him on the back. He inhaled
to prove it, then coughed one more time. "I can breathe, I'm fine."
"Good, you better be. I'd be upset if you died on me after all that!"
He fell back against the window to stop the room from spinning. Rosa settled
back beside him.
"So?"
"So what?" Hugh asked.
"Did I convince you?"
An awkward silence passed.
"You're so unfair," he growled lowly. "How am I supposed to tell you no to
that?"
The room was hollow, still, silent... And then Rosa turned to look at him, and
Hugh could hear her breathing.
He found himself having to retract a little when she started leaning closer,
gripping the edge of the window seat with taut-knuckled hands and forcing a
calm he definitely didn't feel. Rosa exhaled, like wind over water, and Hugh
felt the air move around his neck with it. She laid a hand, tentatively, onto
his cheek, and he had to fight the urge to lean into it.
"If you want to say something, then say it already."
Rosa knew how to push his buttons just as much as she knew how to settle him
down once they'd been pushed (or try to). This was a blatant press of two very
prominent red buttons of his — Rosa challenging him, and Rosa challenging him
to tell her not to do something.
"...I don't know. Ask me later."
But he didn't move. Eventually, there were hands brushed to the sides of his
face; the scent of girly products; warmth; finally, lips pressed to his
furrowed brow. He wanted to move more than anything in the world, but his hands
stayed curled around the edges of the banquette, and he was helpless to imagine
the feel of sheets over a warm body. Rosa exhaled softly into the fringe of his
hair, and the resulting breeze tickled at his bangs.
"I... Hugh..." she murmured. The hands against his temples trembled, and for a
bewildered moment, Hugh wondered why. "Sorry." Her lips trailed down, just a
breath away from touching his skin, past his eyelids and the planes of his
cheek where a healthy flush had risen — and then they did touch, hesitantly at
first, on his own.
Something within him undid itself. Rosa felt the crush of his arms bring her
closer, sliding around her back to press her tightly to his chest. There were
hands in her hair, fingers on her neck. She made a muffled sound at his sudden
display of passion, but after a moment, she closed her eyes and soaked in it.
It was so, so, so much better than the matching stage scenes she'd done until
now.
Eventually, she tried to pull back, wanting for breath, but Hugh couldn't bear
the thought of breaking, and pulled the ribbon at the back of her neck apart
with overzealous hands. She froze.
"...I felt that."
Wait, shit, that might be too fast, Hugh thought, mortified, the strangest
sensation fluttering inside his belly.
"Sorry," he muttered, "sorry, sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to... I mean, I
wasn't trying t—"
"Don't pull that. Were you...?"
He panicked. "No, I'm sorry, it was an accident! Seriously! I was just happy to
hear—"
Somehow, he never saw the motion. By the time he registered that he was on the
bed, it was already too late. Hugh flinched when he was sure she was going to
swat him violently with a stray pillow, or worse yet, turn away from him and
leave the whole thread of thought to dangle for what would be as good as
forever. But she did neither, instead grabbing both his wrists and flinging him
like a discus onto the bed.
"Oh my god, you're so dumb," Rosa hissed. She whacked away some of the extra
chips and cookies haphazardly with one hand, while making a depression in the
covers to the side of his head with the other from the force she was pressing
with. In the next motion of her hand, she started undoing the ties in her hair.
"If you're happy, then show it, you total idiot!"
"I—" She'd already threaded one nimble hand into his belt, had hooked the index
finger of her other hand into his obtrusive collar to pull it away, had somehow
wormed beneath his chin to run an agonizingly slow tongue over his hammering
pulse. A malicious little voice in the back of Hugh's mind whispered to him not
to run away or let go, lest she change her mind, but... "Slow down!"
He pushed her back just enough to let him slip a hand between them. Rosa eased
back, studying him neutrally, and Hugh quietly cursed her convincing acting
skills. Even they, however, didn't fool him as well as she thought they must
have; part of him realized she was puzzling over the situation just as much as
he was.
"Wh... What?" he said intelligently.
"Well, I was just..." Rosa sported an embarrassed expression. "Don't even tell
me you've never read those kinds of stories before."
"What stories?" But, Hugh realized, the blush creeping up his neck must have
given him away.
"You saw that one movie I was in," she informed him, factually and accurately,
even though she had definitely not been there to witness it. She just knew.
"You know the one." Hugh covered his face with his hands and groaned, the
strength of it vibrating low in his chest.
"...Yeah, whatever." Now, with these memories to fuel the fantasy, he knew he'd
be thinking about it while lying in bed for the next week or six.
"J-Just stop thinking about it," she commanded. "You know as well as I do stuff
like this totally happens in real life, too! Where the love confession leads
to... you know... this."
"That is completely ass-backwards! This whole thing is!"
Rosa twitched, leaning backwards a tiny bit, then lay her hands on either side
of Hugh, directly on top of him and using her arms to support her weight.
"Sooooo... Are you complaining about the sex being ass-backwards, or the order
being ass-backwards? Just curious."
For his own safety, Hugh shut right up after that. But in mere seconds, he
found himself taking in a long breath after that as her hands came around,
crossed under his chin, and settled fingertip by fingertip against his throat.
She stretched upwards, a shiver sweeping through them both as she brushed the
precarious lump in his pants with hers, and allowed her palms to lay flat
against the furious pulse beat at the sides of his neck. Rosa could practically
see it pounding, surreally thick as if it coursed something heavier than blood.
When he reached a hand up to grab her upper arm, his grip was tight, but she
never flinched. The heat was getting more intense, and his emotions along with
it. Too much adrenaline was screwing with him, he supposed. Or maybe it was
just Rosa.
(The pun sounded much better in his head. At least it had the decency to stay
there.)
Rosa fingered at the zipper pull dangling at the high neck of his coat for a
few moments, taunting him as he watched her move her fingers at his eye level,
then pulled down slowly and deliberately enough that Hugh could hear each
individual tooth within being tugged apart.
"I always thought your jacket made you look really hot— really sexy, I mean."
She blushed darkly.
"I aim to— please...!"
The last word cracked when Rosa traced a finger along the zipper of his crotch.
"But then you decide it's a good idea to walk around in these stupid-looking
pants all day."
Hugh wet his lips, his breathing shallow. "What, would you prefer I... didn't
wear them?"
"Right now? Kinda, yeah."
Rosa still had him pinned, bending him backwards over the edge of the bed. No
longer liking this arrangement, Hugh ignored his leverage disadvantage and
flipped things with the element of surprise instead. Once she fell back to the
comforter with a squeal, he stretched himself over her like a possessive cat.
"Don't insult my fashion sense. I'll get angry."
"Will you?" she asked with a sharp touch of panic, when Hugh set a hand on the
crown of her hair. Just when it seemed like he was about to ruffle, Hugh
instead stroked her hair, hand creeping towards the back of her neck and
tracing the curve along her back. She shuddered, making a small noise that was
close to a plea. He discarded his blazer to the floor lazily, and his hands
slid down, centimeter by painful centimeter, until they lay on either of her
breasts. Hugh caught himself staring down long and hard at her with a mixture
of awe, respect, and the first pangs of desire he'd felt for anyone.
Rosa ducked below him a little, opening and pulling his pants with careful,
warm hands. Cool air slipped between them when she parted. "Rosa—" Hugh could
not finish the sentence — could not finish the thought — as he felt her blow a
gentle stream of cool air across the tip of his shaft.
When did she manage to get that far? he wondered dimly. In the time he spent
pleasantly reeling from the sensation, she had already completely slipped out
from under him and rolled them back over again. Hugh heard her say something
indistinct about it being more fun this way, when she engulfed him in wet heat.
He didn't think anymore after that.
"...Ah," she uttered lamely, "that's... not the same..."
After a brief period of nothing but controlled breathing, Hugh found enough
spare oxygen to make something that sounded vaguely like a "huh?"
"It's kinda bitter," Rosa said. "The books never said it was so bitter..."
You are such an adorable little moron, his mind screamed at her.
"But I've kinda always wanted to try it, and it's not something I'll ever get
to do in a movie... sooooo..."
If thought had been easy then, there was a very simple and obvious retort Hugh
could have made to that. Seeing as how all his energy for forming logical lines
of thought was being pooled into physical sensation right now, though, it would
have to wait. His hands turned her hair into a knotted mess while he lolled his
head back, breathing rasping harshly in an incredibly erotic rhythm. It was the
sexiest thing Rosa had ever done; it was also the sexiest thing Hugh had ever
experienced.
It was almost too intense for one body to bear, and as the pleasure built
towards a blinding crest with every flicker of her tongue, he realized the
humiliation and concern was only getting worse. It was too much to take. So,
with a surge of effort, Hugh pushed Rosa back, and she went willingly, sitting
on his thighs without a word to give him time to collect himself.
(If their parents would have gotten angry at the idea they were sharing a room,
they would surely have a coronary at the thought of them doing things like this
in that shared room.)
"You're an idiot," he wheezed. "You haven't done this before. What if you
regret it later? Think about it! Do you really want your first time to be
with—"
"Yes," she said in a fervent whisper. "I do."
"Well, what if we don't even end up together, or something?! I told you we were
doing this backwards! What would you even think if—"
Rosa dragged a finger down the seam of his shaft towards his balls to distract
him. He moaned.
"Even so," she reasoned, "you'll still be my friend for life, if nothing else.
And I mean, I love you now, so I'll make it memorable in the best way so it
won't matter later, no matter what happens!" A fidget. "Besides I'd still
rather, ah... trade poke balls with you than some random person.
Ifyaknowwhatimean."
Hugh closed his mouth slowly, being as pacified as he was going to get, and
finally resigned himself to going quietly. She padded her fingers into the
sensitive skin of his inner thigh, like a cat who wanted to play, and resumed
working on him. Rosa was slow but dogged, inexperienced but relentless and
ruthless at her task, all the while frustratingly steady as a metronome. It had
been — a while since he'd bothered to find some private time for himself, which
made his need for release all the more intense once it had built.
Rosa's hands had found their way up past his pelvis to his sides, running up to
his ribcage and back again beneath his shirt when it happened. "Ro, sa...
I'm—!" He made a frantic grunt, causing her to remove her mouth just in time
and finish the job with her hands. She squeezed and pumped him a few times, and
then Hugh bucked forward again, spilling over his stomach and onto the covers.
By the time he heard her grabbing for a tissue from the nightstand, Hugh had
recovered enough to think, This is completely crazy.
"Next time we battle each other," he said breathily, "I swear, Rosa. Just you
wait."
If that promise was meant to attack her enthusiasm, it was unsuccessful. Rosa
hummed, satisfied with herself. "You're welcome!"
He sat up slowly as she relinquished his hips, having mopped up most of the
mess. The comforter now had a telling dark patch on it, but at least neither of
them would have to wash it to hide the evidence. She tossed the tissue to the
side with his jacket and crawled up near the pillows, but didn't make it the
whole way there before Hugh had reared up and grabbed her shoulder from behind.
She rose to her knees as he nuzzled the back of her neck, sliding his lips to
the side.
"No marks!" she reminded him; fortunate, because he'd been about to convince
himself a small hickey wouldn't hurt, maybe low or toward the back where it
would be difficult to see.
"I'll find something else," he whispered hotly into her ear. "You said you've
read those stories, right?"
"So have you," she pointed out, with no small amount of amusement in her voice.
Hugh made a less-than-pleased sound. Her lips quirked up at his almost-
admission, but the feel of his body against hers, firm and warm, distracted her
from it.
He seemed interested to learn that her tights were easy to maneuver under if
one accessed them from her shirt instead of her shorts, and that his hands
could fit quite neatly between her thighs and press against her without coming
up against the layers of her clothing by doing so, and also that touching her
like that made Rosa take a strangled breath. And he shifted, experimentally,
rubbing his hand between her hips. Rosa's head tipped back, a soft moan in her
throat, a breath of his name that he all determinedly ignored. He felt
strangely hot with her obvious enjoyment, feeling his flesh awaken again as he
stiffened against her backside, and she felt a tension of her own building in
her stomach.
Hugh exhaled softly, leaned in close and pressed his face into her neck, worked
his hands under the cradle of her hips again. She flattened herself back into
him as best she could, grinding the beginnings of another erection warmly
against their bodies, and he made a noise in his throat, another entry on the
quickly-expanding list of the most erotic sounds she'd ever heard in her life.
The coil of heat in her stomach had melted, leaving her feeling wet, and her
breathing unsteady. Hugh, too, felt a sort of fascinating sympathetic tension,
as if every pulse of arousal that seemed to go through her was echoed within
him.
He started wriggling her entire bottom half of clothing down at once, in one
tight bundle. Once it was looped around her knees, trapping her there, he
turned her around and pinioned her down to the bed, on her like a wolf with its
jaws to her throat. Rosa sighed again, a hotter, more vibrant sound. When
fingers nudged between her thighs, tied at the knees as they were, and found
her folds, she didn't breathe for a precarious instant.
"Don't!" she said, and Hugh immediately made to withdraw his fingers. Rosa
glowered at him. "No, I mean, you'll rip my tights! I only brought the one pair
this time!"
Maybe I should, then,he wanted to say to her petty request, but didn't.
Instead, he studied the curve of her thighs thoughtfully, and decided on, "It's
not that hard to figure out, Rosie."
As he guided her knees up towards her chest, she contended irritably, "Stop
calling me tha—"
Hugh rubbed his fingers up and down, spreading the thick moisture around, and
her voice elevated into a groan, which evolved into a cry after that when he
found her clit, completely by accident. Rosa's hands flew to his back, and he
had to fight to keep her hips fixed to the bed.
The books in the Aspertia library Hugh had glanced discreetly at, but never
dared to bring home with his pure and innocent sister around, had never
bothered to mention that touching someone else was as pleasing as being
touched. Maybe this was why Rosa had put up with the taste before, if
pleasuring someone else was so gratifying.
"I-It's not a button so be carefuuuuuuuuuhhhh," she tried to say all in one
breath, but was overwhelmed.
Good to add to his horribly basic knowledge of the female anatomy, at least. He
flicked his touch over it to test, long enough for only a heartbeat, only to
see her bite her lip. Breathing quick and reedy, she shifted underneath him,
feeling the indignity and constraint of the position more keenly now. Hugh's
heart was loud in his ears, drowned out only by Rosa's pleased gasp. She
dragged her fingernails in raw trails down his back, along the fabric of his
shirt, amazed at how warm he was... With that loose fragment of a thought, she
wrenched at his shirt, needy, and he complied by pulling it over his head. Her
hands met his back, and she marveled at how feverishly hot his skin was, how
his muscles trembled and tensed like the string of a wooden bow even while she
was the one being pleasured here. But try as she might, Hugh's strong hands did
not allow her to buck.
Then, cautiously, he pulled himself up, and Rosa felt her gaze flicker down as
she tried to even out her breathing. She caught her breath at the sight of him,
the first time actually seeing him; they'd seen each other shirtless more than
once (and in Rosa's case, Hugh suspected, both accidentally and accidentally-
on-purpose), but she looked like it never occurred to her he was a man, with a
body that was capable of these kinds of things.
She snapped to attention, and locked eyes with Hugh. "You're..."
"Huh?"
"You're, um... really hot. I mean, aesthetically. And temperature, too, I
guess."
Neither of them were really fully undressed — Hugh shirtless and with his pants
wrenched aside, and Rosa with her tights messily circling her legs — but it
still felt wonderfully scandalous during the one moment of grace Hugh took to
stretch out fully over her, where everything was silent except for their
breathing and their heartbeats.
Rosa abruptly struggled for room to sit up without warning. "Switch," she
demanded, "I wanna be on top."
"Wha— Why?!" Hugh gawked at her like she'd grown a second head.
"Because," she said emphatically, even though her partner had already rolled to
the side and fallen back freely at her request. Stuffing her tights further
down her legs so they no longer hindered her movement, she held his waist
gently below her. His heartbeat quickened, and a shiver of hunger surged
through him, but still, he prompted her one more time.
"Last chance to change your mind."
Hugh didn't actually want her to change her mind, though. He wanted this more
than he wanted to breathe. Truthfully, he had almost stopped believing it could
ever happen to him in the first place. All the adolescent-boy fantasies of a
thousand women descending upon him, blind to all but his desires didn't really
compare, especially when none of them ever came true anyway.
She huffed, not quite offended. "Who's the one on top, here?"
Hugh made a very soft sound in the back of his throat. She smiled devilishly,
wanting to coax that sound out of him in full voice, too. Rosa sank down onto
him in a startling display of fearlessness, fingers curled tightly around his
shoulders, and her slick grip pulled a moan out of both of them.
"Wasn't that... supposed to hurt?" Hugh asked fuzzily.
Carefully, Rosa leaned forward so she was breathing against his face. "...Oh.
I'm pretty active."
"You're wha...?"
"I kinda already took myself a long time ago," she confessed. "Uh, sorry..."
He gave her a look that asked her what are you apologizing to me for?, until
she wriggled against him impatiently. The movement caused her to clench around
him, and Hugh swore she must have heard the palpitation of his heart in that
moment, because she proceeded to, to do— something with her pelvic floor that
made him strain with warm pleasure against her.
She leaned in to kiss him, sealing their mouths to prevent them from moaning
too loudly. The suites here probably had soundproof walls, because no good
hotel worth its money didn't, but it was better safe than reported for
disturbing other patrons. They rolled together, Rosa rocking sharply against
him and Hugh surging up to meet her. His grip on her hips guided their rhythm,
just tight enough to bruise; but in return, he felt the sting of her nails
pricking at his waist, making to leave matching battle scars. The pain only
sharpened his arousal, his focus on her and the roar of magma building in his
veins. She responded to his direction by pulling his hair assertively, urging
him to move faster.
This position really was better than missionary, he thought (as well as he
could think at the moment). With every movement, he could keenly feel her
muscles stroking him sweetly, and Hugh felt like he must have been losing his
mind as he picked up the pace, pistoning in and in and in.
"Ohhhhh," Rosa moaned, hitching her hips back, "That's so...!" Adjectives were
difficult, so she let the sentiment hang. The hazy words made Hugh feel like
his vision was going white, and he groaned tightly, his pace turning even more
demanding.
The movements were mutually hectic until the evening's worth of tension spilled
out of him in a dizzying torrent. Rosa finished with some violent, staccato
breaths as her body stiffened, and she leaned onto him desperately for support
while she rode her orgasm; Hugh responded with primal elation, senseless
emotions filling him as he shoved in one last time, a shuddering groan rattling
in the air between them.
They were both still, then. Hugh slackened, leaning his forehead lightly
against Rosa's, and then kissed her with all the apology he could muster.
"What''s that about?" she asked softly when he was done with her mouth,
brushing sweat-soaked strands of dark hair from his face. "Still think I need
to change my mind?"
"Sorry, Rosa, I wasn't— I wasn't thinking. I mean, I didn't have a condom!"
Those weren't the right words, not the words Hugh wanted, but they got the
point across; that, or his alarmed expression did. They were both taught very
young that you shouldn't have sex without a condom, because you'll get pregnant
and die — or, well, the girl will, but she won't literally die. He hoped. (He
really, really hoped.)
Rosa stared at him for a moment, and then snorted inelegantly. "Hugh, relax.
I'm on birth control already." His expression must have been suspicious,
because she tacked on, "For... other things, not related to this. That sounds
bad, but it's true. Besides, you know pokemon centers carry that kind of stuff,
right? Most journeying trainers are young adults and all." She yawned, smiling
against his skin innocently. "We're adults, too..."
Hugh had never bothered to think about it that way before. Maybe they really
were adults, if they could do adult things like this and not regret it.
===============================================================================
He must have nodded off, because Hugh was quite abruptly awakened when Rosa
tried to roll over and nearly pushed both of them off the bed. She woke up as
well, shuffling around with her hands to find the numerous pillows and blinking
groggily.
"G'morning," Rosa said indistinctly, propping herself up heavily on a pillow
with one hand and his leg with the other.
"Unnnngh, too early," muttered Hugh, disengaging his feet and using them to
hold the floor steady. He staggered out of bed, and by the time he was done
taking his turn in a bathroom he suspected was intentionally far too big for
one person at a time, one side of the blankets were bundled up around a lump
that looked suspiciously like Rosa, sans the shoes, socks, shorts and shirt
that were puddled on the floor by her nightstand.
Hugh looked at the pile of discarded clothing, pondered, shook his head with
supreme apathy and sat down on the other side of the bed. Whatever he suspected
was romping merrily through his companion's (lover's?!) mind, one thing he
could be certain of was that Rosa, being the polar opposite of a morning
person, would be too half-asleep to accomplish any of it, no matter what it
was, for a good many hours yet.
Like I'll be doing any better, he thought blearily. Hugh fumbled with the
covers and finally succeeded in pulling them over his head, burrowing between
the top sheet and the feather bed until all that could be seen from the outside
was a short tuft of dark hair on the white pillow.
He was obscurely aware, as if from a long distance away, of rolling over and
wrapping his arms around sweet-smelling skin, and then all was peace and
darkness until later that day, when terrible, sadistic knives of bright
sunlight came lancing across the room to stab him directly in the eyes.
"Ow," he moaned faintly from far, far under the pillow where he was giving a
convincing try at smothering himself. "Turn off the lights."
"I can't," whimpered Rosa. "We forgot to close the curtains last night..."
"We? You. It's your hotel room."
"You could walk upright better after that," came the muffled reply. Hugh
gradually became aware that what felt like a frightened animal trying to bury
itself in his chest was, in fact, Rosa hiding from the noontime sun. Efforts to
dislodge her and make her go close the drapes were thwarted by the fact that
she had her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, and that she also had her
legs expertly tangled, and that she alsowas producing the most pathetically
pained noises he was sure he'd ever heard her make. She wasn't even this bad
when they'd both had the chicken pox as kids.
"Fine, fine. I'll go close the curtains." But Rosa still wouldn't let go, and
Hugh had to settle for dragging the comforter over their heads again. It was
stuffy, but at least it wasn't bright.
They lay there for a good ten minutes, thankful for the lack of light.
"Rosa, what are you doing?"
"Ah— Sorry." She began quickly to unravel the knot she'd tied both of them
into.
"No, I mean with your foot. That twitchy thing."
"That kinda happens when I'm nervous."
"Huh?"
"Like when I'm in a bed, wearing next to nothing, with you, on the morning
after, and you're being very quiet," she clarified. "You know. Nervous."
"...Huh."
"You... do... remember last night... right?"
"Uh, yes. Very well."
"Oh, good. I don't think I can do it justice with a quick reprise."
"I don't think you could either. I was too busy wondering if you were still
going to ask me."
"Ask you what?"
"If you convinced me."
There was no sound from Rosa's side of the bed for several minutes. "I'm kinda
afraid to," she said at last. "I think maybe I'd rather not know for sure,
now."
"Hey, you lost that option when you started this whole thing," Hugh informed
her, grabbing blindly for her arm and hauling her back over to the middle of
the mattress. "You're getting an answer, and you're going to live with it."
Rosa tensed, holding her breath, and waited. He would have bet anything she had
her eyes tightly shut, in the darkness. Quickly, before he could lose his nerve
completely, Hugh dragged her closer and kissed her. It was more chaste than the
previous morning, but it must have sufficed, because when he broke away, she
could breathe again. "Hugh..."
"Don't make me rethink this," he growled.
Rosa gave a quick, quiet laugh. "I'll try."
Hugh inhaled deep and let it out slowly, trying to make his shoulders relax. "I
was thinking about what you said, about it being too late for me to be normal,
I guess. But I still want to be a little normal, if I can, and — it's not
normal for people to be alone their whole lives, you know? Not all the time. I
guess—"
"Shush," said Rosa, laying a finger across his lips. Hugh stopped, startled by
the sudden, small intimacy. He swallowed hard. "Explain yourself later. We
should get up." She eased the cover back, shielding her eyes with her hand
until they were sufficiently adjusted enough not to cause her brain to burn
inside her skull simply by opening her eyes. Once she'd re-entered the world of
the diurnal, she glanced at the clock.
"...Or not. Crap."
"What?" he asked, and then felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. "Oh, jeez,
are you kidding me?"
"Nope. We slept way past tournament registration, and it's gotta be halfway
done by now anyway. I'm never gonna hear the end of it from Clay..." Rosa
whined.
Bed hair popped up above the comforter, and Hugh along with it. "So... wanna go
back to sleep?"
Hugh had about two seconds to feel Rosa smirk against the back of his neck as
he tried to roll over before he was shoved under her, in what was suspiciously
close to the start of an encore performance of the previous night.
"Oh no, I'm wide awake now. Here, I'll help you wake up if you need it,
Sweetie!"
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