FSE

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Television sucked. But it passed the time. For Lyre, it was one of the few things that could even pass the time. The mienshao laid on his back on the couch, letting his head and sleeves drape over it lazily as he watched the pokémon match upside down. It was a qualifier for one of the regional tournaments. Two trainers were squaring off, one with a scrafty, another with a gallade. The trainers and their pokemon stared each other down as the crowd fell silent, like two gunslingers waiting for the other to draw, before suddenly the pokemon rushed forward, exchanging move after move.

Lyre could feel the tension. Or at least, he tried to. It was a good fight, yes, but it was someone else's fight. As he closed his eyes and listened, he imagined the narration was for him. That excited commentary would be playing over his own match, when he stood in the ring. When he faced down towering champions. Blood pumping, body moving with quick and desperate movements, the encouragement and direction from his trainer, Roark, helping him push through the pain and seize the win. And the two of them would stand in the spotlight amongst the roaring crowd...

But that time has long faded. There were no more grand fights to be had, no more overpowering thrill of standing before a cheering crowd, feeding off their energy as you're crowned tournament champion. For Lyre, all there was left of that was watching highlight reels from the Poke Battling Network on the tv below the mantle where his and Roark's trophies collected dust.

It was inevitable, he supposed. All the traveling and fighting was fun, but it was draining on the body. They had started to slow down; it was hard to see at first, but there were less tourneys, less cross country trips. And one day they both knew the time was simply over. The pair returned to Roark's home city, trading their travel gear and their battling stories for a spacious apartment and a stable income.

And they got to eat regularly. And didn't have to sleep out in the cold and rain while on the road. And Lyre had to spend the days cooped up and bored while Roark was away at work. Yet again, he was late to come home and it was already dark. Lyre loved it when it got dark on the wilderness trails. The two of them would find somewhere to camp, set up their tents, and in the great outdoors where no one could see, they'd unwind and hug and cuddle and Roark would spread Lyre's legs and lean down towards the mienshao's crotch and—

Lyre bolted up as he heard the lock turn. He was already on his feet when the door opened, bolting towards Roark with a “Shao!" He wrapped his arms around his trainer, nuzzling against his chest.

“Hey, Lyre," Roark said, “Miss me?" What a dumb question, of course he did! But even as Lyre clung on, his longtime partner wasn't doing the same. Something was up. Lyre looked up, tilting his head, but backed off to let Roark step forward.

The human continued, saying, “Sorry, I had to stay late. It's getting that time again." Yes, it was. Lyre wasn't even sure what exactly Roark did, but pushing pencils seemed way more draining than any of those cross country hikes from the looks of it. Roark's gaze turned towards the TV. The match was still going on, reaching its conclusion. The gallade and scrafty were beaten, weary, but fire was in their eyes. With a yell, they simultaneously lunged at each other, rearing out for one final punch, and—

The TV blipped out, and Roark let the remote drop upon the table. Lyre looked up at the man, tired and weary. He used to get so excited about this, but now it was nothing. Was this what the two of them wanted? After they had been through so much? No, this wouldn't do. Lyre knew it wouldn't do. He couldn't let Roark just be like this, forgetting everything they had.

Roark sighed and turned around. “Listen, Lyre…" he began, but Lyre's body was faster than Roark's words. With an effortless shove, the mienshao pushed his lover back onto the couch and climbed on top of him. Lyre didn't know what he was doing, his body calling all the shots. But his body always knew what to do, and as he stared deeply into his eyes, Lyre let his instinct take over and leaned in, meeting Roark on the lips.

He felt Roark hold him as they made out, a loving, comforting hug, and as their tongues danced Lyre felt like he could taste the adventure of their former journeys. When Lyre came up for air and saw Roark's defeated frown replaced by a relaxed smile, he knew this was not going to be enough for either of them.

“That's one helluva way to say hello," Roark said. “What's up?" Well, he'd find out soon enough, wouldn't he? Lyre only gave a mischievous grin, and darting down with the grace his species was known for he laid his paw on Roark's waist. His fingers trailed down, before resting gently on Roark's crotch. The mienshao licked his lips, rubbing circles around the prize within those pants. He felt Roark grow, a present to come, but it wasn't done just yet.

Just as abruptly as he began, Lyre stopped, and slid off of Roark. An idea sprung to his mind, and oh would it make his lover moan. He walked towards the hallway towards the bedroom with ostentatious steps, making fully sure Roark got a full view of his tail, hips, and ass.

He looked over his shoulder with half lidded eyes, and when Roark made to get up Lyre's paw shot up immediately. “Mien!" Roark understood, sitting back down and letting the mienshao disappear around the corner. And when he reached the bedroom, he went directly to the dresser. Pulling out the lower drawer, Lyre fished around the socks and underwear before he found his prize. As he drew out the plug and the small vial of lubricant with it, he knew he was gonna make this a night Roark wouldn't soon forget.

The mienshao poured globs of lube into his paw—in truth, he felt that saliva would be enough, but he didn't want his partner to have a single reservation about plowing straight into him. Lyre couldn't help but beam as he ran his paws over the toy in smooth, quick motions, reminding him of all the times he had pumped Roark the same way until the human was shuddering and spurting white. And those times had become far too infrequent. Still, finally satisfied with his work, Lyre clambered onto the bed with the plug. Putting his face down on the bed, he guided it towards his ass. With only a little prodding, the toy slipped into his backdoor with a squelch.

Ah, that was the ticket. But it was just the prelude. Without moving, he called out, “Shao shao!" in a sing-song voice, a familiar call to Roark. Lyre could hear his partner's footsteps coming down the hall, before a few minutes later he threw open the door and stared. And why wouldn't he stare at Lyre, hips raised with a plugged ass and fuzzy balls on ostentatious display? “Shao?" he murmured, craning his head back to waggle his eyebrows at his stunned trainer.

“Well," Roark said. “That's certainly something to come home to."

“Mienshao!" Lyre slapped a paw twice upon his backside.

“Alright, alright, I get it. Less talk, more action." Lyre smirked. That's a good human. His tail swished back and forth like a lure, drawing his trainer in. Roark leaned down behind Lyre, and the mienshao felt his strong hands fondle his fuzzy sack for a few moments. Then one moved to the plug, pushing gently at it before gripping it firmly. Lyre braced himself for the sudden tug, but only found the toy wriggling inside him. He stretched out, letting out a guttural sound between a purr and a growl; even now Roark knew how to take his sweet time. What could have been a simple and smooth pull came with short interruptions and wriggles, letting the mienshao feel all the ridges that made the toy so fun. But even as the mienshao's insides twitched and content sighs escaped his mouth, Lyre knew silicon was not going to cut it tonight.

And Roark seemed to know it too. Soon, Lyre felt the plug slip out with a soft pop, and he immediately shook his hips at Roark. He'd been waiting all day for this; the time for subtlety and teasing had long since passed. Lyre was already fully out of his sheath, tip beading with excitement, and if the look he gave Roark didn't scream to just grab his hips and plow straight in, then Lyre didn't know what would. Lyre could see that bulge forming in Roark's pants, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to have it in him.

He saw the human reach for his waist, and with a quick, almost frantic motion, the belt was off and the zipper down. He didn't bother to actually drop his pants, however. Yanking the waist of his underwear down to let his cock stand free, Roark climbed onto the bed. Lyre felt his manhood poke his backdoor, and the mienshao's body was just screaming 'do it, do it, DO IT'!

And Roark did it. With no preamble, he felt the human push his way in with a grunt. Lyre squeaked as his insides were slowly spread. It was rough even with the lube; Roark was way bigger than the plug. But that was just the way Lyre liked it. His Regenerator made whatever hurt quickly disappear, and any discomfort was overwhelmed by how much he wanted Roark to take him. Hell, if he could he would throw himself back on that cock. He clutched the sheets, his purrs growing louder, as Roark slowly but surely hilted him.

Lyre took a deep breath in time with his lover, the mienshao's insides tightening. He could feel the small bulge in his belly, but he needed more. Far more, and he wasn't going to let Roark stop now. In the brief pause he couldn't help but give a low, impatient growl.

“Well," Roark said, “When you put it that way…" The human began pulling out, before grabbing Lyre's hips roughly and thrusting deep with reckless abandon.

“Sh-SHAO!" Lyre cried out, his back arching. The bed creaked and groaned as he rutted the mienshao with a feral intensity, with Lyre purring and moaning and bunching up the sheets in his paws all the while. The mienshao was loosening up some, which just let Roark go even faster. They were sweating and groaning, nothing on their minds but their bodies' needs.

Lyre could feel the pressure building within him, and Roark must have felt it too; every time Roark thrust in the mienshao squirmed and tightened harder around his lover as if to say 'go ahead, do it!'. And Roark did; with a final grunt, he drove himself deep into his lover. Lyre squealed, feeling pump after pump of his trainer's love fill him and overfill him, cum dribbling out of his ass and down his legs. Without missing a beat, Roark wrapped his arm around Lyre, pulling him into an embrace and rolling the both of them over as he shot the last of his load.

They laid there for a few seconds, panting. “Damn...I really needed that," Roark said with a grin as he rested his head on a pillow.

“Shao?" Lyre said. He looked down, and Roark's eyes followed: while his lover had gotten his, Lyre was still standing fully erect and dribbling nothing but pre. The mienshao cocked an eyebrow as he turned his gaze back to Roark.

Roark trailed his right hand down Lyre's chest towards his crotch, whispering, “Don't worry, Lyre, I won't forget about you," but before he could reach the weasel pokemon's paw stopped him. “What's the matter?"

Lyre simply wriggled from Roark's grasp and sat up to straddle his lover. The mienshao looked over his shoulder with a devilish grin, and with a quick and fluent motion snatched up the plug with his whiplike 'sleeve'. He began to gyrating his hips, grinding his ass against Roark's crotch and bouncing upon his spent cock. Lyre felt his partner soften, before finally he slipped off of him with a soft squelch. But that just meant he was getting started; he turned around to face Roark directly, one paw giving himself long, ostentatious strokes. Something about that dumb look on Roark's face, as if the mienshao was some sort of hypnotist and his long pink cock was his pendulum, made Lyre even giddier. Raising himself to his feet, Lyre brought the plug behind him, and with a single firm push buried it deep inside of his rear. The sparks that went up his spine were almost as good as blush upon Roark's face.

Lyre let himself down, stroking himself more and more vigorously, and it became harder and harder to hold that mischievous demeanor when his own gasps and shudders were growing more and more frequent. He saw Roark reach out towards his member, but before he could rest his hand on it Lyre brushed him away, causing his trainer to look up.

“Well, you looked like you needed a hand," Roark said, and Lyre just shook his head and wagged a finger. “Fair enough," his trainer said, leaning back and placing both hands behind his head; it seemed now it was his turn to be coy. “Though, you weren't so prideful the first time I offered to jerk you off."

“Shao!" Lyre puffed out his cheeks and put his paws on his hips. Sure, he may have had an ass full of cum and silicon, and he may have been sitting there with a dick just begging to spew seed all over the place, but that didn't mean he didn't have pride, dammit! This was his time to shine! He thought about how he'd wipe that smile off Roark's face, how he'd flip him over and mount him until he was crying out the mienshao's name, but those images faded from his mind—partially—when Roark chuckled and put his hands up disarmingly.

“Hey hey, no need to get all huffy," Roark said. “Just, I was thinking back to the first night we did something like this. You remember, right? When we had to stay holed up in that pathetic excuse of pokemon center back in Sinnoh?"

“Mien…"

---

The memories came flooding back, fresh as they were as the many years ago when he first formed them. It was a short time into their journey into pokemon battling. Lyre was still a mienfoo then, caught only a few months beforehand. He had his reservations about this trainer, as, sure, he was enthusiastic about competition and his determination to succeed seemed bottomless, but he was clumsy and naive. Especially in terms of the wilderness; Lyre could forgive a human not noticing how the clouds had began to darken, but to get them stuck in a blizzard in the wilds of Sinnoh... Lyre wasn't keen to die an icy death due to his trainer's foolhardiness.

But providence seemed to smile upon them, as even as the wind bit at them with a biting cold that cut as close as daggers, there was a light up ahead: a pokemon center, set along the path for wayward trainers. Naturally they made a beeline for it. Even though, from the outside, it was smaller than any they had seen, and from the inside it seemed even smaller, even the most basic of shelter seemed like a luxury undeserving of mortals.

Lyre brushed the snow off of himself as Roark spoke with the nurse on duty. According to the weather report the snowstorm wouldn't abate any time soon, and while there weren't many other trainers who had holed up in the building, all the proper rooms were full—they'd be regulated to one of the waiting rooms. In truth, it was better than Lyre could have hoped for, but as they moved to the corner of the large room while the wind howled outside and shook the building, he couldn't help but look at Roark with no small amount of disdain.

But Roark seemed oblivious. He released the rest of his pokemon from their pokeballs, reassuring them that things would be alright and that they'd travel again soon. Lyre had to roll his eyes at the whole affair, but after that long trek through the snow he wasn't in the mood to raise his voice. He simply meditated for about an hour more, until the lights had shut out and all the creatures gathered had turned in for sleep.

Even then, Lyre stayed up. If only for a little bit more—he gave off the impression of falling asleep, sitting up against the wall in his meditation, but after the room was filled with snoozes and snores he dared open an eye to look around. Everyone else in the place appeared fast asleep. Good. The mienfoo gave a sigh of relief and stood, slinking as carefully as he could out of the room. There weren't many secluded places in that hovel of a pokemon center, so he had to settle for one of the janitorial closets. Closing the door behind him with great difficulty, Lyre sighed and plopped down amidst the mess of brooms and mops, looking down between his legs.

He didn't know if it was a part of his meditation, a ritual, or some sort of addiction, but ever since he had reached maturity, Lyre had become intimately aware of his body, and he couldn't sleep restfully without relieving the tension of the day. Sure, if they were in the wilderness it would be easy enough to go off somewhere beyond camp and take care of himself, but in a place like this, this closet would have to do. Leaning his back against the wall, the mienfoo spread out his legs and reached a paw down, giving his sheath gentle but firm rubs. Yes, when he was alone, he could let his mind run wild: thoughts of that cute vaporeon who kept showing her hindquarters to him nonchalantly and oblivious to how alluring it was. Thoughts of that chespin, who always seemed to be giving the others the bedroom eyes. Thoughts of his trainer, who never seemed ashamed to strip down to bathe in front of others, cheerful and open and willing to—

Sheesh, what was he thinking!? Lyre shook his head; humans and pokemon didn't have relations like that, and he didn't need those distractions right now, anyway. Turning his thoughts back to pokemon, he coaxed his shaft out before grabbing it firmly. The mienfoo gave a small purr, sinking down a bit and turning his gaze up to the ceiling as he gave himself rhythmic pumps. Yes, he deserved that, after how crappy the day had been. His breath caught, his toes curled. Soon enough, he'd go over the edge and—

“Lyre?"

His heart froze as his eyes darted open, suddenly aware of the sliver of light that ran over him. It couldn't be...oh no, it was. Looking up, he could see the human in the doorway. Roark. Immediately Lyre turned his back to his trainer, a burning sensation in his face that wasn't quite embarrassment. He muttered, indignantly, “Foo, mienfoo!"

“Hey, easy fella," Roark said. “It's fine. I was just worried when I couldn't find you, is all." Lyre gave a harrumph; nice of him to worry about that now instead of when they were waltzing through a blizzard. But his trainer stayed, and continued. “Anyway, sorry to interrupt you, little guy. You go on and have fun; just come back when you're done!" The way Roark said it...Lyre could hear the smile in his voice. A genuine smile, not something awkward and put upon but honestly accepting. Lyre didn't know what it was, but when Roark made to close the door he raised up a paw and called out.

“Hm?" Roark said, looking in with concern. “What's wrong, Lyre?"

The mienfoo didn't really know what it was, exactly, and an awkward silence pervaded the closet. Eventually, he turned back to Roark, his excitement on full display. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Foo, mienfoo."

“Huh?"

Gah, why were humans so dense!? Whatever. Gulping, Lyre motioned Roark closer, and the human complied, closing the door behind him. His cheeks hot, Lyre continued with a “Mien…"

Roark kneeled down, and Lyre could feel his trainer look over him. The air seemed thick and tense, and the mienshao didn't know what to expect. But finally, Roark spoke. “You need a hand, little guy?"

Lyre started. He didn't expect Roark to be that direct, but he would have been lying if he hadn't thought about it. He felt like his face was on fire, and burying his face in his paws, the mienfoo nodded. He expected some rebuke, but instead got a pat on the head.

“Hey, no need to be embarrassed, Lyre," his trainer said. “I'm happy to help!" Roark's hand left his head, before resting itself on the mienfoo's thigh. “Just sit back and relax."

Lyre didn't know what to make of it, but the hand drifted from his thigh to his crotch. Before he knew it, he felt that strong, confident grasp about his cock, and gave a small purr as his trainer went to work…

---

“So? How about it?"

Lyre snapped back to reality. Yes, he had more than handjobs and shyness now. He had his best friend, his diligent trainer, his love of his life in front of him. The mienshao couldn't settle on something so basic, not after all this build up and all the defeat he saw in Roark not a half hour before. He had to give him something much more than that. They'd gained so many memories together, and this too had to be a night that neither of them would ever forget.

Lyre leaned forward and brought his paw underneath Roark's chin, bringing the human's face up to stare him straight in the eyes. Such lovely eyes, for a lovely man. Straddling like that may not have been as majestic on the bed as it was in the past as they camped out under the stars in the wilds surrounding numerous Pokemon Leagues, but the warmth and passion Lyre felt transcended a mundane bedroom. Slowly, he leaned in, turning his head slightly as he closed his eyes, and Roark did the same. Their lips locked in a short kiss, and then another, and another. Lyre softly cupped Roark's cheek with his paw as their kisses became more intense. His hips gyrated, rubbing his needy cock against Roark's belly and leaving a thin trail of glistening pre.

Any pretense of subtlety was gone; Roark wrapped his arms around Lyre and they fell back to the bed, tongues dancing furiously. The mienshao ground against his trainer like a 'mon possessed, and Roark seemed all too happy to help, snaking a hand down to grope Lyre's ass and guide him up with each thrust. When was the last time they had done this, weeks? Months? Even if it had been only yesterday that would have been too long ago.

Lyre became aware of the pressure welling up within him with each grind, the release he had been awaiting for for so long. But not yet, no. He had a better idea. His humps stopped, and soon he broke the kiss, a trail of saliva hanging from their mouths as the two gasped for breath. Roark looked down, obviously expecting strings of milky white upon his chest, and turned his gaze back to Lyre when he found none.

“Ah...Something wrong, Lyre?" he asked. “Why did you stop?"

Lyre grinned as he felt the tide recede, but only a little. Working himself from Roark's grasp one more he sat up, leaving his dripping dick on full display. “Mienshao?" he asked, though he didn't even need to wonder if Roark liked what he saw. He brought his paw down to wipe up a few beads of pre with his fingers, before bringing that paw to Roark's lips and casually pushing them in. Roark's wide eyes only made Lyre purr more and slowly slide his fingers in and out of his trainer's mouth. And like he predicted, Roark caught on instantly, sucking on Lyre's fingers before he pulled them out for good.

Roark grinned. “So that's what you're after, huh?" he said, cocking an eyebrow as looked down once more to Lyre's crotch. “Just like that time on Route 23, remember that?" How could Lyre ever forget it? They had just cleared the preliminary trials for facing the Elite Four, and even if they needed as much rest as they could get in that dingy little tent the night before their scheduled battles, Lyre had been far too excited that he made it so far with the trainer he loved, and he made sure to give Roark a face full of that excitement.

Lyre nodded, and stood to allow Roark to sit up. His trainer leaned in and peppered the mienshao's cock with kisses, but soon put a stop to that when Lyre placed both paws on the back of his head. “Wow, really needy, huh?" Roark joked, but Lyre only pushed his tip against the human's face in response.

“Alright, alright," Roark said, and took Lyre into his mouth without further ado. The mienshao shivered as he felt Roark's tongue press against his member. His hips gyrated slowly as his paws guided his trainer, gently at first. But soon those instincts kicked in, those of wild animal in desperate need of a rut. Lyre began thrusting faster with a sudden jump of pace that surprised even him, but he was beyond caring. His balls slapped gently against Roark's chin and every thrust sent shivers through his spine, so much so that he had to press a paw against the headboard just to keep standing.

The bed squeaked louder and louder, the headboard shaking in Lyre's grip. The mienshao was well trained and focused, and he knew he could endure a lot, but the pressure in him was building up fast. He panted and moaned. His mouth watered and his whole body shook. This was going to be a big one, Lyre knew, and his humping became more and more desperate for that long-denied release. No, it wasn't just that—if it were just about getting off, he could have done that earlier with his paws. He needed those lips that enveloped his cock, that tongue that slid slick and wet against his manhood, the muffled, satisfied sighs of the one who would give him all this love. He was desperate for Roark and to show him just how much he loved him.

And he did. It was like a bomb went off within Lyre as he finally came with a shuddering cry. The mienshao clung to the headboard as if he were holding on for dear life as he hilted into Roark's mouth, shooting all of the day's anticipation in thick gooey spurts. It was a relentless amount, but the trainer was no slouch; he gulped down every last drop, and even when Lyre was dry and let himself slip out of his lover's mouth Roark gave the mienshao one last lick from base to tip.

With all of his energy gone, Lyre simply leaned to the side and let his body hit bed with a thump. He purred as he laid splayed out on his back, panting with the same exhaustion and excitement as when he had triumphed over a difficult tournament match. Roark slid up beside him and rested a hand on Lyre's cheek to guide the mienshao's face towards his. They kissed once more and Lyre could taste his salty cum upon his lover's lips.

Lyre draped his arm over Roark's chest and nuzzled up against him as if he were a large pillow, and in return Roark reached his arm around and absentmindedly petted the mienshao.

“Thanks, Lyre," he murmured. “I really, really needed that. No, we both did."

Even though he couldn't speak human language, Lyre was always glad that Roark understood exactly what he trying to say. He gave a few small licks at Roark's cheek. “Mien…"

“And I love you too. God damn, do I love you." Roark closed his eyes. “Ah, I'm so lucky to have you, Lyre, I really am."

They laid there for some time, the excitement dying down to a warm calm, as if simply being next to each other was enough to satisfy them forever. Lyre had many more things planned, but all of the action had gotten the best of him and his eyelids slowly drooped. He had almost fully drifted to sleep when Roark suddenly spoke up.

“Hey, Lyre."

The mienshao opened one eye lazily. “Shao?"

“You know, I still have some vacation time I haven't used," Roark said, rubbing small circles on his lover's head. “Why don't we go hiking sometime next week? I hear the mountain route in the next town is pretty scenic...and filled with some feisty trainers," he added with a wink.

“Shao shao!"

“I'll take that as a yes."

Lyre nuzzled Roark gently. Perhaps the two of them still had some glory days left after all.