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The Underground	By : Braindead Category: Pokemon > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 5558 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon, nor do I make money off of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Underground
- 1
"Zeke!" called Jeff from in front of the garage door, "Have you seen my- oh, wait, nevermind!" He canceled his own question as he found his keys.

Jeff heard a somewhat distant and perhaps slightly annoyed voice shout "Zang!" back.

"Yeah, I'll see you this afternoon, okay?" responded Jeff. "God, Mondays suck. Hey, let Mom and Dad know when they get home I won't be back until around nine. Stevens wants me working a few more hours!" Jeff's parents worked during the afternoon as dog trainers at the same place, so they needed only the one car to get there.

"Zang!" Zeke called back again, and despite the language barrier, Jeff recognized it as an affirmative. While Zeke was unable to speak any recognizable human language, his 16-year-old trainer Jeff had taught him to write a decent few years ago, so the Pokemon could communicate with anyone if a pad of paper and a pen was in proximity.

"'Kay, thanks! Hey, and also tell Dad I'm taking his car!" Keys in hand and demeaning sandwich costume in the trunk, Jeff somewhat absentmindedly started up his father's Mercedes-Benz and drove off, the whole way thinking, Damn I hate my job...

Just when Jeff was punching in, a strong arm jerked him back, and a strong male voice growled, "Don't bother. Go home. You're fired." Whipping around, Jeff laid eyes on the one who pulled him back: his boss.

"I'm fired? Mr. Stevens," Jeff began to scramble, "I've never been late, never received a complaint, I've drawn in no less customers than any other mascot-"

"Boy, I gave you a specific condition when I hired you: you would be no less than a model employee at all times."

"I have!" exclaimed the boy.

"Don't give me that, boy!" Mr. Stevens shouted back, "You're secret's out, boy. I know all about your little disorder!"

Jeff started to boil in rage not only from the betrayal of the coworkers he'd confided in, but by his former boss's unconcealed new found hatred of him. "It's not a disorder! There's nothing wrong with who or what I'm made to want. The same way you only care for human females-"

"Boy, one more word, and I'll have your daddy on the line! Go home and fuck that pet of yours before-"

"Zeke is not a pet, and we've never done that!"

"Don't you lie to me, boy. I know you're type. You're all the same, just fucking all the time."

Jeff lost the last bits of his temper there and then. He struck, and although as a human he was unable to use Mega Punch, what slammed Mr. Stevens in the gut came pretty darn close to one. The man collapsed, breathless, for a few moments. Jeff stood over him and threatened, "If you tell anyone about this or have me arrested, bear in mind that you'll have to admit to hiring 'my type.' That wouldn't be good for business, would it?"

From there, Jeff stormed outside to the car, still fuming, and drove the ten-minute ride home. Along the way, he was lucky that he wasn't seen running a stop sign. Or talking on his phone.

The first four times it rang and went to voice mail, he just ignored it. Sorry, whoever you are, but it can wait. The fifth time, however, was plainly too annoying to ignore. He hit Talk while still moving and stated, "I'm driving. Say who you are, tell me what you want, then hang up."

The feminine voice at the other end of the call seemed to find that remark highly amusing, which was reflected in her chuckle. "That's funny, Mr. Wall. I know you're driving, and that's why I chose now to call. Believe me, you don't want us to be overheard."

"Lady, I have no problem with you, but that you know my name and what I'm doing right now. If you can't convince me not to call the cops within the next ten seconds, that's exactly what will happen," he hissed, "and your time starts right now."

The voice was clearly highly unperturbed when it continued on with, "You don't want to hang up once I tell you how you can get a new job with very high pay, unmatchable benefits, and the chance to do what you love."

"Uh, yeah, no thanks. I've been screwed over enough today, thank you very much. Well, it was nice talking to you. I wish you luck in your future scams, bitch."

"Perhaps I should be more direct," stated the woman a bit more forcefully this time and without her previous sweet tone, "Either listen to what I have to say, or I'll be the one calling the cops and leaving a tip about a pokephiliac teenager who physically assaulted his defenseless boss. Do I have your attention now?" Jeff nearly ran right off the road there and then. As he was nearly home and on a rarely used road, he pulled over by the woods at its side.

"You're one creepy bitch. I'm listening."

"Let's refrain from the name calling, shall we? It's an indication of a feeble mind, which I know you lack."

"I'm flattered. Let me guess: you can't find my grades?"

"That's irrelevant. Now, listen. What if I told you I knew a place where - what phrase did you use?- 'who and what you want' are not only acceptable, but the norm?"

"I'd say I was mildly amused by your joke, and then I would hang up."

"Please, Mr. Wall, if you had any true intention of hanging up, we would not be conversing as we are right now. As to what I said, that just happens to be the case. Move here, and you and your Zangoose friend can do whatever you want, granted that you accept a little job offer."

"Lady, I don't know how you know about me or about Zeke-"

"You've made that abundantly clear."

"-but you need to get your facts straight. Zeke doesn't care for me that way, and I'm not after Zeke like that either. This conversation is pissing me off. It wasn't a pleasure to meet you. I hope we can't do this again sometime!" Jeff hung up before he realized what he'd just done. "Wait... now she's gonna call the cops! Oh, shit, shit! Uh, redial, redial!" The boy fumbled with the buttons of his phones for a small while before managing to find the right one.

Unfortunately, he heard, "This number is not in service," back.

"Shit!" exclaimed Jeff, "I'm so, so screwed!"

Once home, it was still a bit early in the afternoon. The first thing Jeff did was bury himself in his room, which wasn't suspicious behavior for him, still pondering the phone call that was fresh in his mind yet. That had to be the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me. Ever. The hell did that weirdo want with me, anyway? A "job," she said. I wonder what'll happen to the sucker who-

A knock at the door diverted Jeff's attention, and he knew his parents must still be out at work. "Hey, Zeke! What's up?"

In place of opening the bedroom door, the Pokemon opted to slip a sheet of paper beneath its crack instead. ~Someone is at the front door. It's a human female who says she knows you, and, apparently, she knows me.~ it read in nearly illegible handwriting, or pawwriting as this case was.

"Ah, shit. Thanks, Zeke!" Jeff thanked sincerely. He lept up from his bed and accidentally smacked the 'mon in the face with his hastily thrust open bedroom door. "Oh, damn, I'm sorry, Zeke! Are you okay?" Jeff quickly knelt down to examine the Zangoose, who was holding a paw to his nose, but the latter smiled at his friend and waved the other paw dismissively as a nonverbal indication that he was fine, and Jeff was forgiven. "I'll be right back, then."

Down the stairs sprinted Jeff, jumping down the final six and landing just before the front door. Don't be her, don't be her, don't be her...

"Well, if it isn't my favorite insolent pokeph-"

Shit. He could just guess who it was on raw instinct. "Lady, if fifty will get you off my porch, it's all yours."

The woman didn't look at all like she needed any extra money. Indeed, parked in Jeff's driveway was an unfamiliar Bentley, and on she who drove it lay an expensive-looking gown and too much makeup. A girlish little laugh came from her before, "I'm not about to leave before I'm heard out. I lied before: I'm not going to call the police. I can't, really. Are you happy now?"

This, Jeff was made to admit, did slightly improve the situation. Still in his irritable and slightly fearful mood, though, he cooled down just enough to concede, "Fine. What do you want from me? Wait, forget that. How do you know me?"

"I'm not about to have this conversation on a doorstep. May I come in?" the woman requested.

"Like hell you can! My parents could get home any time, and I don't really feel like getting caught letting some stalker bitch in my house right now."

The intruder waved a finger through the air like one might at a disobedient child. "Now, now, what did we say about name calling? Honestly, boy, tame your tongue."

Still more annoyed Jeff grew. "Don't call me 'boy.' I have a name, and we've established that you know it," he hissed.

The lady shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. "Fine, fine. We're getting nowhere. I'll take my leave for now, but we'll speak again soon, Jeff."

Jess had begun to slam the door in her face already by the time he had heard the word "but." This time, though, he felt no guilt whatsoever.

Zeke materialized behind the boy holding a small stack of sheets of paper and passed him a slip reading, ~Who was that?~

"I don't know," orally replied Jeff.

Zeke made a motion for Jeff to flip the page over, so he did. ~What did she want?~

Jeff's almost-honest answer was, "I have no idea."

Zeke had yet another slip prepared to pass to his human friend. ~I want dinner a little early. How about a quick bowl of macaroni and cheese? Even you probably can't screw that up~

"Very funny. Wait, what do you mean by probably?"

Another motion to flip the paper led to, ~You have trouble making PB+J, let alone something that you actually need to microwave!"

"Hey, I resent that!" exclaimed Jeff, though that wasn't truly the case. This sort of banter was common between these two, and it always ended up lifting the moods of both. "Wait, why has all of this been pre-written?"

The next sheet to come, already written on, read, ~It doesn't take a psychic- type to predict you. :P~

"Oho, what's this? Since when do you write with emotes? Perhaps you aren't as feral as you like to claim you still are!

It seemed that this response was not planned for, as Zeke headed for a pen that lay in the next room. ~Ha!~ he scribbled once he had obtained it. ~You humans and your manners, laws, covering garments, and businesses. So boring and dull, the order your kind insists on. Us, now we get to say and do literally anything! Your species, well, you're boring. No matter how long you surround me, I'll always be feral at heart!~

"An amen to that, Zeke! I wouldn't mind going wild myself, I bet."

~Try it! There's nothing like the call of the wild! Now, how about that macaroni and cheese?~

The following morning, Jeff found himself behind a desk near the back of the classroom, sleeping. "...and because you have an indirect pronoun here, and the word is now three syllables long, there needs to be an accent mark on- oh, here's a perfect example. Wake up, boy! ¡Despiértate!" Jeff stirred a little but did nod lift his head off of his desk. "¡Levántate ahora!" commanded the teacher. Rather lethargically and reluctantly, Jeff lifted his, pushed out his chair, and got to his feet. "Jeff, say and spell the command form of 'take a shower' if you were speaking to the pronoun 'Usted.'"

I don't know that! "Uh... is it 'Te vayas?'"

Mr. Ramirez sighed deeply. "Ay... not even close. Another one: tell me how to tell your friend, 'Don't lie to me.'"

"Oh, I know that one!" excitedly exclaimed Jeff, "It's 'no miénteme,' right?"

"No." Shit. "The answers were 'Dúchese' and 'no me mientas.' Come back here during lunch. Now,-"

"Excuse me," softly interjected a man at the door whom Jeff had never seen before, "Jeff Wall's mother is here to check him out." As soon as the boy heard this, he rejoiced inside quite quickly. I don't know why I'm leaving, and I don't care! Whoo! Jeff shouldered his bag, which hadn't been unpacked in the first place, and sprinted out towards the office lobby.

"There's my boy!" cried the well-dressed woman waiting there. "Sorry I'm a bit late, Jeff. Darn traffic, you know." All of Jeff's joy evaporated like a drop of water on the hottest day of the year in the time it would take for a light to turn on after flipping the switch; this woman come to get him was not Jeff's mother.

She gestured him to follow her outside, and he did so compliantly, albeit reluctantly. "No escape this time," she pointed out, "and besides, after hearing me, you'll be thanking me. I guarantee it. Now, get in." She had led him to her shining Bentley, and in the shotgun seat sat a rather large Ursaring.

If you have any requests for Jeff's future partners, go ahead and leave them in a review. It may very well end up that you'll see what you want in a future chapter!
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The Underground