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The Bitter Taste of Wine and Defeat	By : megadeth425 Category: Pokemon > General Views: 3021 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon and make no money from this story.

Chapter List
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Originally a challenge with my friend Lyraeon to both write grumpy, drunk Sommeliershipping gone horribly wrong. Turned into an ensemble piece involving four couples and come chapter two they're all fucking. Hers went the same way though so I don't feel bad. Check out her half of the challenge; she's awesome and should get more attention than she does.

http://anime.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600053522

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It is common practice at wine tastings to spit the wine out after experiencing the depth of its taste. Generally, any with the slightest of etiquette will do it to keep from getting inebriated, clouding their judgement on subsequent lines and possibly leading them to get a little bit tipsy.

Burgundy was a woman who, some would argue, had issues with the whole 'etiquette' thing.

The c-rank Pokemon Connaisseuse, either by ignorance or attitude, had not spat out a drop of the wine she had been given to taste. Now on the tenth or so wine, there was some wobble in her step and a slur to her voice. Several other tasters had since shied away from interacting with her very much as she grew more grumpy than usual. Amazingly, that had not stopped her from speaking; now to herself, and loudly.

A short distance away, Cilan spat out some white wine into a bucket in the middle of a circle of four he stood in, nodding slowly. “It has a very rich and deep taste,” he said. “Burgh, your ability to blend aromas is as pleasing to the palette as your art is to the eye.”

“Thank you,”Castelia's gym leader said, spitting out some of the wine he had made himself and brought to the tasting. “It's an amateur's effort, I will admit. It was simply an experiment of inspiration.”

Cilan mulled over the lingering taste in his mouth a moment longer. “Quite the contrary, your ability to captivate the eye has followed you into other senses as well. There is a depth, a landscape of flavour to this wine, that makes this far more than a beginner's uncertain offering.”

“I couldn't have said it better myself,” Grimsley said, giving the two gym leaders a nod. “Shauntal could, but we'd be here all night and all she would have accomplished is describing her own dress.”

Clicking her tongue, the purple-haired Elite took another sip of the wine. “Sarcasm is how Grimsley tries to appear classy when he doesn't have anything to say that sounds like 'high society'.”

Grimsley had a response on the tip of his tongue about the real coping method of not having anything posh to say being to put his head up her skirt. Before he could say it, however, Cress came to the four with a tray carrying glasses of a new wine. The cycle began anew for the tasters, this time sampling a bottle from the Striaton leaders' father's private reserve.

The wine tasting had been a neat idea Cress came up with to have a more formal gathering at the gym between acquaintances and colleagues. It was a way to strip away all of the crowded party atmosphere and bring a more relaxed, intimate group together. It had gone a little bit too far, with Juniper's lab assistant and her boyfriend coming, both underage. Thankfully, Iris, though in town, found the entire wine tasting thing too boring, and the hot-on-her-heels Georgia echoed the sentiment. The most surprising of all guests, though, had been Burgundy. She had simply invited herself in and immediately started calling for wine to taste. To extend the hand of friendship, Cilan insisted she be served and treated as any other guest would.

Burgundy swallowed another glassful. “Divine in texture, with a taste running deep as...” She stopped her loud proclamation a moment, wobbling in her step as she moved toward the table to put the glass down with the others, though she wasn't able to put it down correctly and it fell onto its side and rolled into another. “I like it!” Her head rolled back a little and she leaned on the table for support.

Cilan groaned, watching her make a fool of herself. “Chili, can you please seat our sudden guest so that she doesn't fall down?”

“Afraid to interact with her yourself, I take it,” Grimsley smirked, noting how she looked over toward them, eyes seemingly trying to burn a hole through the green-haired gym leader's chest. “I don't blame you, she looks like she would try to kill you given the chance.”

The lighting didn't change, but somehow something gleamed off of the lens of Shauntal's glasses, and her lips curled into a smile even before she took the time to smell the wine. “And why is that, exactly?” she said, her voice seeming too sly to usually be hers. Grimsley recognized the shift immediately as the result of her creative spark igniting, but did nothing to stop her. He always enjoyed his night so much more when she was feeling creative.

Cilan explained how she had originally been a challenger to the gym he had defeated, who later became a connoisseur to be better than him. He stopped briefly partway through to sample the wine and give his thoughts on it before continuing, not wanting to leave his brother standing there and waiting with the tray. “I had hoped that in understanding the flavours of wine she may understand the deeper intricacies of tasting Pokemon.”

“It is such a shame,” Burgh said, placing his long, thin fingers on Cilan's shoulder and leaning into him. “Sometimes there is simply no helping somebody lost to the seas of ignorance, and we must instead seek to find inspiration in those we know to be similarly enlightened.”

Cilan shied away a little, turning his head to see Chili pull out a chair and wave toward it welcomingly, only for Burgundy to grumble and turn away from him. “I don't need a chair!” she shouted, emphasizing her point and proving her faith in herself well-founded by nearly tripping over air. “I need him!” She pointed at Cilan with all of her fury, leaning in to the point so much it was wonderful she didn't fall flat on her face.

An excited sound forced its way out of Shauntal's lips, and she put a gloved hand over her mouth, looking around uncertainly, worried someone heard her. Nobody did, everyone's head turned to witness Burgundy continue to embarrass herself. Chili managed to get the grumpy purple-haired drunk into a chair at last, and her head fell flat onto the table with a dull thud that made the glasses clank. After about ten seconds of silence, she very loudly proclaimed, “Ow,” in a dull, mostly unfeeling voice.

People hoped that, perhaps, the party could then progress, freed from Burgundy's loudmouthed derailing. Indeed, the participants seemed to all settle down after that, everyone sitting around tables with friends and trying to loosen up a bit. A few attendees, like Fennel, didn't always spit out their wine when they drank, but they were nowhere near the embarrassment levels that Burgundy had flagrantly exhibited. In fact, everyone agreed that being half as humiliating as her would be difficult for anyone present to do in any volume of wine.

“Cheren, come on, kiss me.”

Those people were wrong.

Juniper's lab assistant Bianca had also had a fair bit to drink. She and her boyfriend Cheren sat at the table with the professor and her date, Fennel. She leaned forward toward her date, grabbing some of his tie and trying to pull him closer to her with it. “Just one kiss, come on. I bet I taste likes grapes!”

“Did you even have wine?” Cheren said, oddly calm and deadpan for having his tie pulled and struggling to keep away from her face. “Maybe they gave you grape juice and told you it was wine? I wouldn't have trusted you with alcohol, personally.”

“Why not?” she whimpered, leaning even closer as her hands clumsily reached further up the tie as though she were climbing a rope, one hand at a time. “I'm not a kid anymore, you said so yourself. Big, grumpy Cheren said I was mature!” She made what was supposed to be a grumpy face, but nobody at the table could quite place what the actual expression was. Unlike the gradually louder and belligerent Burgundy, the already-loud Bianca simply got gigglier and happier, her face growing a very deep shade of red.

Juniper put her hand on her assistant's arm and sighed. “Bianca, please. Let go of his tie.”

Although she gave her superior the puppy dog eyes, the blonde nodded and relented, letting go of Cheren's tie and again sitting fully in the chair. Her head still rolled lazily, just on the verge of noticeability, as another batch of wines came. Juniper was on the fence about bringing them, but Cheren convinced her, hoping that it would settle her down and maybe impart a bit of class to her. Both were coming to regret that decision.

As the two teens continued to, respectively, giggle and snark at each other, Fennel placed a hand on Juniper's, her face a deeper shade of red than usual from also sampling the wine the wrong way. “Aurea,” she said, making a small laughing sound that sounded far too young for a woman her age. “Why don't we stop babysitting and go back to my house early? Cheren's responsible, he can watch her.”

Juniper shook her head. “We have only one set of keys, and Bianca sometimes gets freakishly strong. He won't be able to do anything to stop her.” She looked over to them, crossing their arms together as they sipped the wine, Cheren hoping it would placate her and calm her down. “He can hardly say no to her when she's calm.”

“Come on,” she groaned. “I've missed so much, and we can finally have some alone time.” She traced her finger along the exposed forearm slowly, her head tilting as she tried to lean into her girlfriend's neck for a kiss. She whispered, giggling, “I've got a surprise in my dresser that I bet you'll like a lot.”

Juniper shook her arm a little and pulled it away from Fennel, not liking that she had to as the gentle finger on her skin reminded her of old times, but she had to. “When we're ready to. I'm not Cheren, I actually can say no.”

“I resent that,” Cheren muttered, though he said nothing to dispute the claim.

The next table over, Cilan gave his spiel about the current one, giving the same sort of flowery, over-descriptive evaluation as everything else he had tasted that night. Burgh leaned in a little toward him, hanging on his every word and nodding slowly. Shauntal and Grimsley had moved their chairs closer together and leaned against each other, which created enough space for a fifth chair, then occupied by Sabrina. She sat stone-faced, avoiding much of the small talk and sharing her thoughts in brief, terse comments.

“Your mouth is certainly an experienced one,” Burgh noted, smiling widely as he took a sip of the wine to drink rather than to simply taste. “I wonder just how much you have tasted to be so skilled at it. Or am I wrong in thinking that only a refined palette that seeks new experiences and tastes could be so insightful?”

“No my friend, you are entirely correct. There is a thrill in finding new tastes that excites my tongue more than the most savoury of dishes. A true connoisseur should never turn down a chance to taste some new creation, for tasting is an art as complex as evaluating.”

Grimsley tilted his head toward Shauntal's ear and he whispered, “If you're getting ideas about writing bug boy and Cilan, then I am sleeping in another room tonight. Even I have standards.”

Shauntal shook her head furiously, raising the wine glass to her lips to dull the sound and spoke lowly. “They have no chemistry at all, don't worry. If Burgh's flirting keeps up much longer I don't think I'll even want to write or have sex to tonight, but I suspect Cilan will let him down once Burgundy rejoins the living world.”

“You're full of surprises, aren't you? Two people dislike each other and get competitive about it, and you immediately think they're going to end up hatefucking drunk on a bed tonight.”

Shauntal merely smiled, putting down her glass and turning to Sabrina. “You're rather quiet tonight, is everything okay?”

“With myself, yes. But if you could hear what I could, you would know that the easiest way to avoid any problems is to simply pull away.” She looked back toward Burgundy, then to Bianca, then back to Shauntal, and looked at the writer knowingly. “Although, I would have to say that you would want something to happen, and just may have the right ideas.”

Shauntal leaned back smugly, blushing a little. “Some of us need psychic powers to tell what people are thinking. All I need is to read a lot of books and compare patterns.”

“That doesn't work, love,” Grimsley sighed. “You can't just throw complex people with their own thoughts into a story and--”

“Flannery and Surge.”

“That was an isola--”

“You seemed pretty speechless when you read what I'd written of you.”

“As opposed to now, where I'm speechless because you don't let me finish sentences.”

Shauntal wasn't even listening though, head already turned toward Sabrina and a devilish smile on her face. “So, in theory then...”

“No, I will not probe peoples' minds for naughty secrets you can write about.” She spoke plainly, as though reading Shauntal's thoughts was a casual, normal thing and the question not at all out of the ordinary. “As a friend, I say this. I fear you would use this power for evil.”

Burgundy roused, then, standing up and getting out of her chair with the same sort of grace she had been exhibiting all night, which meant it was a miracle the table did not flip onto its side as she stood. “Cilan!” Again, the over-the-top pointing motion followed. “Spitting out your wine all night, I'm starting to think you can't hold your liquor.”

“You can't either,” said nearly all of the party attendees virtually in unison.

Ignoring them, she started to walk toward the table he sat at. “I challenge you to a showdown! The most exquisite of tastes shall be victory in beating you in a drinking contest!”

Every time Burgundy had previously challenged Cilan to a contest of any sort, he had been unable to say no. She brought out his competitive side, and he couldn't refuse her in front of an audience. Instead of trying to explain to her why he spat out his wine, he merely waved for Cress. “Bring whatever you can find and some shots.”

“She's already drunk,” Burgh said. “I don't know that indulging her will do. Instead, perhaps we could attempt to find some manner of inspiration to--”

“Move over!” Burgundy shouted, grabbing Burgh by the shoulder. “Va chier, tu es un cafard!” She pulled him away, swatting his back with the other hand as she took his seat before she could do anything. The artist stood in shock, looking down with indignant rage at her, but the others at the table merely shrugged, and he slunk off, dejected and now looking for someone else to hit on.

“Told you,” Shauntal said, leaning her head to rest on Grimsley's shoulder as she drank what wine remained in her glass. The entire wine tasting had been a bust as people started to drink their wine, their grasp on the etiquette not universally known and the result being that eventually nobody cared. “Now they'll get drunk, insult each other, have the most electric kiss of their lives, and in the morning be unable to look each other in the eye.”

“Which means it will take them about twelve hours longer than it's taking me,” Grimsley muttered.

“Don't worry, what I'm wanting from you tonight won't require eye contact.”

Cress came with a tray, a bottle of whiskey, and shot glasses. With the practised grace he would have given customers to their cafe, he began to pour the amber liquid into the glasses, offering them to the two feuding connoisseurs. Knowing neither would go down after one shot, he had brought ten, and began filling them as well, hoping to create a streamlined process where he wouldn't have to grab the glasses, simply refilling the shot glasses as they were placed back in the queue.

Burgundy didn't pay any attention to that, either too drunk or too rude to give him any help. She merely slammed them down on the table and demanded another, sometimes peppering her demands with insults toward the blue-haired waiter; not all of them in his language, either. In fact, she slipped into French more and more with each hit of the whiskey. She let out a satisfied, heavy breath each time she finished a shot, letting the warm, comforting burn tingle in her mouth and throat.

“Merde, the deepest of tastes. Exquisite! I knew that you were not willing to waste something cheap and flat on a lady and palette as deserving as I. So much rich flavour to excite my taste buds.” She looked at Cilan, smiling at him as she grew a little closer, though not as much of an invasion of personal space as Burgh had endeavoured. “I didn't know you cared.”

“I did not pick the whiskey,” Cilan said, putting up a hand in concession. “But I do agree.” He took another shot, leaving it vague and Burgundy's smile to widen before he continued. “This whiskey has such a breadth of flavour that excites the mouth.” The smile on the purple-haired connaisseuse deflated entirely when she found he had not taken her remarks into consideration at all and he wasn't talking about her.

“Oui, but, come, surely there is something else at this table you would like to sample, no?”

“Called it,” Shauntal snickered, pressing the bridge of her glasses up as she found them beginning to slip.

Cilan took one look at Burgundy, understood exactly what she said, and responded by knocking back another shot. “Perhaps there is, but this whiskey is too exquisite not to enjoy to its fullest. Given some time, though, my palette would love to explore other tastes.”

For once, Burgundy didn't sound grumpy at all. “I happen to know of a flavour that you might enjoy, mon chéri.”

Bianca must have overheard them, because she leaned over to her boyfriend and grabbed at his arm. “Ooh, you're my cherry!” she shouted, pawing at his shoulder like a cat. “Cherry, Cherry! I think I'm going to call you that from now on.”

“That's not even what she said,” Cheren groaned, free arm reached over so he could hold his head in his hand. “And if you could say it just a little bit louder, I believe there may be some people left in the city that you haven't completely embarrassed us in front of.”

“Come on, Cherry, don't be like that. Ooh, is my little Cherry sad now? I know what will make you feel better, if you try that thing I saw Juni do to Fennel last time she--”

“Bianca!” the two scientists shouted at once, shocked at what she was loudly proclaiming to the entire party, who had come to stare at the blonde as she grew harder to ignore than even Burgundy. “You weren't supposed to tell anyone that!”

“We already knew!” came a few voices.

Bianca grabbed Cheren by the arm and started tugging on him. “Okay fine, we don't have to do that. I don't have a strap-on anyway...”

Instead of responding again, Juniper simply threw her hands up in defeat. “I'm going to the bathroom.”

“I'll stay here,” Fennel cooed, still holding onto her girlfriend's arm. “I don't think I can walk... Mm, but I don't want to let go of you.” She leaned toward Aurea as the woman headed for the bathroom, until finally her loose hold on her wrist broke and she slumped over, giggling drunkenly.

Bianca pulled herself into Cheren's lap, straddling the gym leader without any concern for his weak attempts to tell her no. “Hehe, now you're my Chairy!”

The alcohol had started to hit Cilan, who slammed down on the table a bit harder with each shot. He and Burgundy matched each other, and though Burgundy had already been liquored up, he was catching up to her easily in the drunkenness department, apparently not having the constitution the slim connaisseuse amazingly did. He had pulled his chair closer to hers and they leaned in on each other, scowling and trying to stare the other's eyes right out as they knocked back streams of whiskey.

“You are only a C-rank Pokemon Connaisseuse, while I am an A-rank. I have a clear advantage of you, and the taste of inexperience shall also be the bitter taste of defeat!”

“You just called yourself a female connoisseur!” she retorted. “It would appear you are beginning to lose this fight, and I am superior. Perhaps I shall find the taste of victory instead, a far sweeter and richer taste than you shall ever know.”

“This doesn't mean they're going to have sex,” Grimsley mused. “It means they're stubborn, both progressively growing drunker, and competing. I have trash talked just as much at the poker table.”

“You don't know much about relationships, do you?” Shauntal sighed, stealing one of the shots Cress poured and downing it before placing it back and smiling at the waiter. “This is courtship.”

“Oh, so this is how broken human beings flirt? By insulting each other, and--no, on second thought, that explains you rather nicely.” He chuckled, drumming his fingers slowly against her side as he held her close, the other hand gently pressing on her chin so she faced toward him and fell into a soft kiss.

Sabrina rose from the table and walked off to find some sane, single people to interact with.

“It won't stay down!”

“Then perhaps you should stop playing with it and try to calm yourself. There is bread on the table, have some.”

Bianca was still in Cheren's lap, facing toward him and, inadvertently, pressing her neck and breasts against his face as she leaned on him hard, too tipsy to support her own weight. She struggled with the stubborn locks of black hair on his head that kept springing upward, her fingers trying to rub it down, spread it through other hair, push on it, anything to conquer the unconquerable. “Why is your hair so silly, Chairy? Oh, maybe it's a boy thing and I have to treat it like your--”

“We're leaving,” Juniper said hurriedly, rushing back to the table. “Bianca, get off of him, we're going back to Fennel's apartment. Come now, home. There's a big, warm blanket for you two, and plenty of hair products for you to use on him.”

“Yay, it'll be a sleepover!” she slurred, climbing out of her boyfriend's lap only to fall flat onto her face on the carpeted floor. “Can I do your hair too, Fennel? It's really long and I want to braid it.”

Fennel shook her head. “Sorry, but Aurea and I need to be awake really early tomorrow. We have to go right to bed when we get home.”

“Oh, okay. That's alright, Chairy and I can just have sex then.”

Cheren groaned, adjusting his tie. “You're not exactly the most subtle person even when you're sober, but this is a new low.” He grabbed his coat off the chair behind him and headed over to Cress. “I'm very sorry about Bianca.”

“It's okay,” he sighed. “At least I won't have to spend the night watching after her.” He made note of the two connoisseurs still drinking, both wobbling in their seats and leaning impotently against each other, faces smooshed together. “I did hope to be able to talk to you; maybe next time you're in town?”

Cheren nodded. “I'd like that. Bye, Cress.”

“Goodbye, Cheren.”

“Do you know how we can make the whiskey even better?” Burgundy crooned drunkenly, placing her hand on his thigh. “Because if you're a true sommelier, then you would not dare turn down a new spin on a now dull and experienced flavour.”

“I cannot turn a challenge down,” he agreed, putting an arm on her shoulder. “What did you have in mind to deepen the taste?”

With a big smile, Burgundy grabbed the shot, emptying it into her mouth, and then pressed her open mouth sloppily to his. They both lazily reached to try and grasp each others' heads and missed their marks, instead resting their arms on the other's shoulder as they kissed. It was sloppy and messy and a couple drips of good alcohol went to waste in dripping down chins, but both seemed to grow excited by it.

Shauntal tugged at Grimsley's collars excitedly, grabbing another shot and downing it. “We need to go back, right now. There's been so much tonight I can use, the ideas are spinning frantically in my head and the wheel will never stop until I have seen these committed to text!” She stood up excitedly, a bit of a wobble in her step as the alcohol began to hit her, though it was more from her high heels than being legitimately drunk. “Thank you very much Cress, we have enjoyed ourselves greatly, but inspiration calls!”

Grimsley rolled his eyes and followed, waving goodbye to the couple as they scurried off quickly, leaving Cress at the table with the two sloppily making out rivals.

“Exquisite!” Cilan proclaimed when they finally pulled apart. “The whiskey is accentuated by your kiss, given new life and a surge of passion that thrills the palette in most savoury of ways.”

“And oh, whether it is your lust or the alcohol that makes me mouth burn... I must taste you pure to know! Please, can we abandon this contest and decide the winner in a more skillful taste-off?”

Cilan nodded. “Yes. There are so many flavours to you left to be explored. To my bedroom!” Unlike the others who had at least thanked Cress, Cilan left his brother standing there as though he didn't even realize that he was.

But he was, and still held the whiskey. The rest of the party had cleared out as the various train wrecks reached their peak, until Cress sighed, sitting at the table and pouring himself some whiskey to drown his frustrations. His attempt at a high society gathering had not gone too well, ruined by drunk people who were seemingly using it only as a prelude to sex, or who could not appreciate the subtleties of a wine tasting. All of that effort for disaster. Even his own brother had lost himself to the mayhem and had dragged the boisterous women who barged uninvited into the party up to his bedroom. It meant that, above all of the other terrible things gone wrong that night, he would have to try and sleep to the sound of his brother and a woman, both drunk and having what would probably be grumpy, loud sex.

Burgh slit into the seat beside Cress and smiled. “If it's any consolation, my friend, I certainly enjoyed the party.”
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The Bitter Taste of Wine and Defeat