Happy Birthday, Cheren. | By : megadeth425 Category: Pokemon > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 6060 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon and make no money from this story. |
“It could be worse.”
That's Cheren's oh-so-loving response to the giggly, slightly tipsy Bianca. His girlfriend leans against him, breath smelling of the whole shot of rum she drank as she steals the pizza crusts off his plate and asks him if he's enjoying his birthday so far. His response is typical Cheren; sarcastic deflection to avoid the question or be genuine for more than a second.
“As usual, you know just how to make everyone feel appreciated,” Hilda sighs. Her breath smells even heavier of alcohol, owing to her stronger tolerance; she had put down several drinks and is just as tipsy as Bianca, though even that she handles a little better. She sits on the other side of him, leaning against the newly adult black-haired boy just as much as his girlfriend was. Her boyfriends Hilbert and N are just back from buying more beer, everyone eternally thankful for N's few years over them, which allows him to buy alcohol legally. They're in the kitchen, chatting over the open pizza box on the counter and opening some of their newly acquired, frosty booze.
As their adolescence wound down, the four childhood friends and their awkward green-haired hanger-on settled into a strange way of life. The four of them pairing off and ending up with their own place, bought in cash with their combined winnings and prize monies, and cultivating their career paths comfortably was a given. Cheren as a gym leader and teacher was a bit less expected, and Bianca's role as lab assistant pursuing a Pokemon Biology degree came out of absolute nowhere. As did Hilda and Hilbert's two year exodus in search of N. Things were different when they came back, when they reunited with the former criminal and remarkably strange person who had changed their lives. Whatever happened between the three of them lay beyond the understanding of their two oldest friends, but they forged a strange three-way relationship that, despite all expectations, proved incredibly solid.
They settled into their lives together, and Bianca and Cheren grew to accept N as a permanent fixture in said lives. It isn't too bad, and the five of them living on their own gives them all sorts of freedoms and irresponsibilities they wouldn't have had if they lived at home. Chief among them is drinking for 'special occasions', though Cheren's birthday qualifies as a rare real one.
Cheren opens his mouth to respond to Hilda, but as he starts up, Bianca shoves the rim of a beer bottle up to his lips and laughs as she tips it up, giving him a mouthful of beer. He gasps and spits a little out as he tries to speak for a second still, before just accepting the beer. It's not his favourite thing to drink, although with this surprise party sprung on him they just got a lot of party staples instead of the obscure micro-brews only available in Lentimas Town that he championed so much. It doesn't taste too bad, but after the third mouthful he swallows down, he grabs the bottle and pulls it back down, Bianca thankfully getting the message and pulling it away from him.
He expects that she got the message, until she goes in for a kiss. No, maybe not quite a 'kiss'. She shoves her tongue down his throat with an eagerness and impatience uncharacteristic even of Bianca. She just goes at him for three seconds, then stops in disappointment and pulls away. As her boyfriend is left curious and pulling in some deeper breaths from surprise, she frowns. “You were supposed to save some beer for me, Cheren!” Her voice is a little faster than normal, and squeakier, like her voice used to be before puberty sank in. "The others always get to make out with drinks in their mouths, I wanted to try it."
Her disappointment confuses him. "You didn't tell me it was for that," he says, blushing and keeping his eyes solely on Bianca, just knowing that over his shoulder Hilda is smirking, not necessarily because he had indeed made a mistake, but because any time he gets embarrassed, she's there to gloat about it. It's all part of the group's dynamic; Hilda keeps him from getting too smug and haughty by throwing his own medicine right back in his face and punching him in the arm. "I thought you were just trying to shut me up."
"Beer isn't a good choice anyway," Hilda says, surprisingly un-smug and not at all mocking Cheren. Maybe the alcohol dulls some of her edge, leaving her willing to be helpful instead of keeping Cheren in check. Or maybe his birthday earned some mercy from her. "If you want to make out with someone with a drink in their mouth, you have to use something good." She reaches for the closest bottle on the coffee table in front of them, a bottle of cheap whiskey. Not exactly anyone's definition of 'good', but it has a much more noticeable taste than the cheap convenience store beer. The nearest empty shot glass follows, nobody caring whose glass belonged to whom once they have a few drinks in them. Soon enough the glass of amber fluid is up against Cheren's lips, this time Hilda's fingers holding it there. He gladly drinks, sharing Bianca's curiosity for the sensation of sharing a drink with someone else. He never brought it up for much the same reason he's doomed to sarcastically make his way through life, but a tipsy Bianca and Hilda are “forcing his hand”.
The burn splashes against his tongue and lips before the shot glass is even empty, and the moment it's pulled away Bianca's lips are there. Cheren doesn't swallow, even as the whiskey sets his mouth alight, and he shares a sloppy, hungry kiss with Bianca. But they kiss like normal, forgetting they're sharing a shot of whiskey, and drops of it peek out of their mouths. It makes Bianca giggle, not that it's a difficult task, and that only looses more whiskey from the lazy seal of their lips. Cheren makes a quick, panicked swallow to avoid losing the whole shot on his clothes, and they pull away, Bianca still disappointed and Cheren too busy trying to wipe his shirt clean of the small splotches of alcohol.
Hilda rolls her eyes in a big, over-the-top display as they pull apart. Everything with her tends to be over-the-top and attention-getting. “You're so bad at this,” she sighs, pouring another shot. “Someone's going to have to teach both of you how to do this properly, and lucky for you, the queen of it is sitting right here.”
“You're joking,” Cheren says dryly, grabbing the beer bottle and finishing off its last gulp and a half, just to get it out of the way. “We tried, we failed, let's move on. Maybe get a movie going, now that the pizza's almost done.”
“Cheryl,” Hilda says sternly, knowing that calling him by a girl's name is a very quick way to irritate him. “I'm sitting here right here, offering to kiss you. Something I know for a fact you've wanted since you were six. You don't really want to put a movie on.”
“It's my birthday. And Saturday. Saturday means movie night, birthday means my choice, and my choice is to fire up Netflix, find the lowest rated movies we can, and let you all sit here suffering while I half-assedly encourage you to join me in making smartass remarks about them.” Cheren crosses his arms defiantly, even as Bianca nuzzles against his shoulder and coos about how warm he is. It kind of ruins the image of standing up to Hilda that he's going for.
“Hey Bianca, you don't mind if I make out with your boyfriend, do you?”
“Oh my,” she says, having to think on it for a second. Or more like a fraction of one. “Uh, sure! But only if you make out with me when you're done.”
“Deal.”
“Excuse me? These are my lips.” Cheren cuts in and shirks away from Hilda a little bit, except doing so puts him firmer up against the soft, warm body of his girlfriend, who seems way too into the idea for his comfort. “Not Bianca's.”
Hilda brings the shot glass to Cheren's lips and flashes him a wicked smile. “I'm asking Bianca because I don't want to upset her if she isn't okay with her boyfriend kissing someone else. I already know you want me to kiss you, no matter how difficult you're being.” She tips the glass to his lips. “Or, if you really, honestly, don't want the girl who used to beat you up to make out with you, then swallow the shot, birthday boy, and I'll just go kiss one of my boys instead.”
She's calling his bluff now, and that just pushes all of Cheren's buttons; his pride, his shame, his secret longings... Fuck. He accepts the whiskey, which doesn't burn nearly as much this time, and soon enough Hilda's lips follow. His stomach ends up in knots as he kisses Hilda, only the second person he's ever kissed, and the other girl he grew up with a major longing for. The four trainers' adolescence was kind of a mess of attraction every which way; which as far as Cheren was concerned meant no matter which way everyone paired up they'd all be with someone. Even the presence of N hadn't completely changed that, but he's been left wondering how it would have been hooking up with Hilda or Hilbert.
The kiss gives him an idea. Her hands are at the collar of his shirt and in his hair, and like everything she does, Hilda's kisses are forceful and active. She keeps his head in place as her fingers thread through his black locks, which is handy for keeping their lips together and not letting a single drop spill. She passes the whiskey back and forth between their mouths with a level of tongue dexterity that makes him squirm uncomfortably in his seat. His hands find her sides and his legs tighten together, hoping nobody will notice the way her kiss has him heating up immediately.
Bianca's making small, excitable noises in Cheren's ear as she watches them kiss up close, sipping from the whiskey bottle more than someone with her tolerance should. “Looks like you're enjoying this a lot more than a bad action movie,” she remarks, pecking him and Hilda both on the cheek. “See? This was a good idea.”
The words of encouragement in his ear only make Cheren feel guiltier, his buzz doing nothing to assuage the shame of the fact that he and Hilda had already swallowed their whiskey down, but continue kissing. Her grip on his collar tightens, and soon she's climbing into his lap, Bianca smiling all the while as if unaware of what's going on. Is he about to get some with his girlfriend watching on in excitement?
“Why does Cheren get a lap dance for his eighteenth? I sure didn't.”
Hilbert and N come into the room, carrying another box of pizza that's already half empty, as well as a six-pack fresh from the fridge. They stop halfway to the couch and laugh, not at all bothered by the fact their girlfriend is in Cheren's lap and kissing him, even though they know just how into it she'd have to be to have his collar and hair both in hand.
Still, Hilbert's remark is what Hilda needs to pull away from the kiss and smile, taking her place back beside him. “Cheryl and Bianca didn't know how to share a shot properly, so I had to show them. I figured I'd give birthday boy a little hands-on experience while I was there.”
“That seems fair,” N says, the lanky man opening one of the beer cans and taking a long pull from it. His relative awkwardness makes a lot of things weird, but when it comes to alcohol he tends to treat it like a normal drink, downing whatever's in front of him in swift order. The only thing keeping him on his feet is his large frame and great fortitude. “But if you're kissing him, then Hilbert and I should as well.”
“What?” is all Cheren can muster as his hands slip off of Hilda a few seconds later than they should have. He slumps back against Bianca, who still smiles wide. “I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that 'birthday boy' meant 'party amusement'. Hilda showed me how to do something, that was it. Now, I'm going to pour a shot, do that same thing again with my girlfriend, and then we are all going to suffer through the absolute cheesiest slasher movie I can find.”
“Actually, you're not.” Bianca smiled and pulled away from his side, leaving him almost slipping down as tipsiness starts to take hold of him rather suddenly. “Hilda and I had a deal. If she got to kiss you, then she had to kiss me too.” She moves over to sit beside Hilda, settling somewhere in between Hilda's lap and the armrest. A shot's already poured and ready for the girls.
Before Cheren can even try to evade this whole mess and get into his room where he can be a disaffected grumpass, Hilbert throws his body down onto the couch and grabs the whiskey bottle. He doesn't even bother filling up a glass, just takes a pull of it and hands it off to his boyfriend before grabbing Cheren by the head and pulling him into a kiss.
The harder Cheren pulls away from something, generally the more he's just reluctant to embrace it, and he wants to pull as hard as he can against his friends' incredibly suspicious insistence on kissing him. There's a lot of ways it could go, a lot of things it could be, and his groggy mind narrows down the list in the brief second before warm flesh and burning whiskey splash against his tongue. All thoughts go out the window as in the span of two minutes, he's managed to kiss the two childhood crushes he ended up not getting with. An honour he never thought he'd have, nor does he really want, if it comes at the cost of just complicating everything in Cheren's life. He thinks too much about what-ifs, and this is going to do a number on his thoughts for the next year or so.
Hilbert's style of kissing is much more passive than his girlfriend's. The obnoxious brown-haired boy likes being more subtle than Hilda; adores the little, nagging things and keeping quiet over grand gestures of dominance. He has nothing to prove and a slacker streak that runs deep. That carries over into his physical affection. He isn't a lazy kisser, but there's no reason to go all out in his mind. The embrace of sensations and slow passion. They swap the whiskey back and forth more slowly, making small swallows to only get tiny bits down at a time, and before long Cheren leans against Hilbert much the same way he was against Bianca earlier, even if he isn't a soft, curvaceous blonde giggling at all his terrible jokes.
But Hilbert doesn't linger like Hilda did. Maybe it's because Hilda thinks more about what could have been than Hilbert does, but probably just because N replaces him almost immediately and throws back the shot without a moment's hesitation. N's the relative newcomer who really shouldn't be entangled in everyone's affections the same way, but the green-haired hippie is slowly growing on Cheren, and he's not even remotely averse to kissing him now that another rush of alcohol dulls his senses just a little more. He's high on the moment, and gladly leans into the much taller man as he takes a kiss from his the housemate he hasn't yet kissed.
N's kisses are possessive and animalistic. It's predictable, for someone who grew up mostly around animals, to view romance and sex through more feral sensibilities, but it surprises Cheren just how hungry he is. Hands at his shirt, tugging and grabbing fistfuls of fabric to pull as slowly he peels the shirt up entirely, as if kissing isn't gesture enough for him. Cheren tries to ease away out of concern, but the hands let go of his shirt, providing a second's relief before they instead start working the blue jacket off of his shoulders.
Cheren gulps down the whiskey before they can dwell very long on their kiss, using the chance to tilt his head back. “What are you doing?” he asks, but in response N bites his lower lip, shutting down his line of questioning rather succinctly. He's pulled back into the kiss, head buzzing as this time he doesn't put up any resistance. The jacket goes, and the hands return to his shirt. He isn't sure whether it's alcohol or shock making everything spin a little, but he's unable to get over the gentle giant suddenly showing off a much more aggressive side than ever before. N's quiet and peaceful, considerate and always befriending little fledgling Pidoves outside. N's dominant and wants to claim Cheren as his mate, tugging at his short and... is he snarling under his breath?
Another pull away, this time with Cheren taking in a sharp breath. “This had nothing to do with whiskey did it?” he asks, turning around to look at the others. He finds Bianca fully in Hilda's lap, their lips locked tightly. Hilbert's pressed up to Bianca's back with his hands reached around and squeezing her breasts through the black tank top she usually wears under her white shirt, though that currently lies discarded on the floor.
“It took you long enough, Cheryl.”
***************
The first chapter is all setup; the giant fuck-off orgy comes next.
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