… Because I am a depressed, bored, and wholly uninspired Author, and since I'm already in the community, I can apply it to more than one pairing.
Title: Starlight, Star bright
Pairing: Championshipping (Lance x Ash/Red)
Theme: #1, Starlight
Rating: PG. Fluff, oh, is it fluff. It might even be sap. *Shudders*
Disclaimer: Pokemon belongs to Nintendo and Shogakukan Comics. This non-profit, non-copyright infringing fanfiction belongs to me under international copyright laws and taking it is plagiarism. Thank you. *Phantomness bows*
Notes: for telepathy, ** for thoughts, italics if a pokemon talks
Summary: Lance watches stars, and Red watches Lance.
Lance likes to watch the stars. Red knows this because he likes to watch Lance. At night, when the stars glitter brightly over the night's black tapestry, he can almost always find Lance on the roof of Indigo Plateau, sometimes with a pair of binoculars around his neck sometimes not, just watching.
Red wishes that he were braver, because if he were, he would climb up onto the roof too and sit with Lance, instead of watching the stars from his window. It just isn't the same.
But he's not brave enough. It's odd that he can face down Team Rocket and Gym Leaders with ease, and yes, even the Elite Four, and yet, cannot do this. He doesn't even have to confess his feelings… all he has to do is climb up the bloody ladder.
It's metal rungs glint, taunting him, as he grips the bottom.
He wants to go, he really does, but he's scared.
"Red?" he jumps. What's Lance doing in his room? For that matter, why are the stars so bright? Wait. What's he doing on the roof? Did he climb up while he was inattentive?
But that can't be… can it?
Do the body and mind not work together?
Lance scoots over slightly, and they both sit on the roof for a while. The stars are pretty, but he thinks that his breathing sounds awfully loud. Surely Lance notices?
But no, Lance doesn't, and he scoots closer, as Lance gives him an amused look and asks if he's cold.
Of course he's not really cold, but… but it's nice to be able to cuddle like this. And he knows that for them to have any relationship, there's a long ways to go.
But as he sits here, he knows it's a beginning. And that's what counts.
GYAH! THE FLUFF! IT BURNS!
You may blame this on Roxanne de Winter. She told me to write drabbles if I had writer's block. Tis amazingly effective!
Well, maybe not perfect, but at least I feel better now. Poor Erika. *Cries for poor dead Parakeet that died from the heat wave in California today*