Disclaimer: I do not own pokemon or any character herein.

Note: This was a request fic from an awesome writer, Lady Venamisa, you should definitely check out her story Pokemon Black: Enter Chaos, it's nothing short of perfection. She wanted an Ash/Gary, Palletshipping fic, and I wrote this for her.

~Ash's POV~

He was always better than me.

Damn it.

He was always so much better than me.

When we were children, he'd always beat me in everything we did.

From pokemon battles, to foot races, anything,

He was always so



I hated him. I really thought I hated him there for a while.

But I'm not so sure that's the case anymore.

I think all this as I twist my hands in his sheets.

I don't know how it's come to this.

I promise you, I don't.

You have to believe me.

I showed up at his house today,

to try to prove to myself

that I was better.

I challenge him, and he smirks,

that same damned smirk.

He agrees, but with a catch.

I blush despite myself,

and that just proves that he's better.

It was a normal match.

Three on three.

No substitutions.

Long story short,

I lost.

He was better.

He drug me inside,

and my clothes ended on the floor,

along with his clothes,

and his knees,

and for once,

I felt,


It was like hot silk around me,

and I think I lost a part of myself.

My fingers are in his hair,

I pull, hard.

I want to hurt him.

To prove I'm better.

I control him now.




I feel the back of his throat

and know that I'm better.

I don't give him warning,

I just do it.

I go right in his mouth.

He's tries to spit,

but I clamp his mouth shut,

and smile.

I tell him to swallow.

He does as he's told,

because I'm better.

He knows it's his turn,

as he pushes me on the bed,

I know it's my turn.

He's always been better than me.

And now he's proving it to me.

The sheets are soft on my back,

but that's the only thing soft about this.

His movements aren't soft,

as he's moving in and out of me at a maddening pace.

I can't tell if it hurts, it's just numb,

the only thing I can think right now is

he's better than me.

His grip isn't soft,

as he's stroking me in time with his thrusts.

My body is starting to twitch uncontrollably.

I release myself long before he does,

I can hear him smirk,

he's proved once again.

That he is


Gary Oak

You've always been better.

~Gary's POV~

He showed up at my door today.

He was smiling that damn smile,

that damn 'devil may care' smirk.

With his damned gorgeous hair,

hidden by that stupid hat.

He challenged me to a battle,

the tone he said it in angered me

more than I can put into words.

That damned smile.

He's always been better than me.

Better at caring, better at being happy.

Just look at that Pikachu of his.

It's the happiest pokemon I've ever seen.

I don't know how he does it.

I just don't get it.

I agree with him,

but only if we can make it interesting.

His puzzled look amuses me,

as I explain to him.

His face goes red, but he agrees,

still smiling that damned smile.

It's a normal pokemon battle.

Three on three.

No substitutions.

His Charizard, My Blastoise.

I win.

I'm better.

His Pikachu, My Fearow.

He wins.

He's better.

His Pidgeot, My Eevee.

Somehow, I win,

I'm better.

I'm better.

I'm better.

"I'm better, that's just how it is, Ash. Now get in here."

He's smiling again, as he takes his shirt off.

That same damned smile.

I want to hit him.

But I can't.

That damned smile.

Those damned perfect lips.

I hide his smile with mine,

and he agrees.

Our tongues make small talk,

and he moans into my mouth.

His pants are on the floor now,

and that smile is gone.

Is it weird that I miss it?

It's gone, replaced by a look of




All of the above.

None of the Above.

Both A and B?

You choose.

My clothes join his on the floor, and my knees join them.

I slide my mouth around him,

and he's better.

The noises he makes proves it.

He's better.

He's better.

His hands are in my hair, pulling so hard it hurts.

He takes control,

making me move faster,

making me go deeper.

It gags me, and he just chuckles,


once again,

that he's better.

There's no warning,

he just finishes,

it's in my mouth.

It's like I can feel them swimming.

I try to spit it out, but he clamps my mouth shut and smiles.

That damned smile.

"Swallow, Gary."

I do as I'm told.

He smiles that fucking smile,

telling me, once again, that he's better.

I stand up and push him back onto the bed.

It's my turn to be better.

I take his legs, and force them up on my shoulders.

I'm better.

I finger him, gently at first.

One finger,



He's wincing at the pain.

I'm better.

I position myself.

I push in and he cries out.

I smirk and pull out.

And push in.

He moans, and I know

I'm better.

He's hard again, so I take it,

I squeeze it, and stroke it.

He moans, loudly,

telling me to be softer,

but I tell him to be quiet.

He does,


I'm better.

His body is in spasms now,

he's thrusting up,

against his will,

I know it's almost over,

and I'm almost sad.

He thrusts up,

and releases himself again,

all over his belly and in my hand.

I pull out and thrust back in hard.

I smirk, and repeat my motions.

I fill him with myself,

and with a moan, I claim to be better.

He gets up off the bed,

and dresses himself without a word,

but that smile speaks loud enough,

that fucking smile.

He tells me to walk him to the door.

I do as I'm told,

but he holds my hand all the way there.

I open the door for him,

just like he wanted me to.

I do this,


he is better.

The good byes are short,

not so sweet,

and then they're over.

He kisses me.

Deeps, controlling,

almost painful,

and then he leaves,

with nothing more than

that damned smile.

Ash Ketchum

You've always been better.

Reviews are appreciated.

Flames are accepted.

Either way, you've read my shit.