Not Just A Fanboy

Sweetboy

"I'm sorry, Paul." Tears dropped as Barry was bandaged.

"Barry, this is the sixth time I've told you; it's all right! These wounds aren't big deals. Stop blaming yourself! Besides, it isn't you who made yourself fall; it's my own carelessness."

"B-but you wouldn't have fallen if I had'nt stupidly gotten my scarf stuck in that tree." Barry continued to sniffle his tears.

"The wind blew it, and that scarf wouldn't have been stuck there today if I didn't make it your birthday present in the first place!" snorted Paul, but he managed to soften his tone. "Look, everyone makes mistakes. There's no use to fuss over such common things."

"But...but... the match is almost upon us..." Barry uttered through his teary eyes.

"These are just mere scratches. We'll be fine." snapped Paul then adding in a gentler tone, "If you keep up those tears, it'll make it difficult for me to concentrate on the battle."

Barry nodded, but he couldn't control the fluctuation of his tears. Several minutes passed by and a rain of tears still tumbled down from Barry's cheeks. Nothing changed.

At long last, Paul gave out an exasperated sigh. "Why are you still crying?"

"I'm so-sorry...I couldn't...st-stand seeing y-you hurt...even if it w-were just a f-few moments..."

This rendered Paul astounded. How exactly these simple words made his heart elated - he didn't know. The rustling heat of the day had gone. Everything inside that small infirmary seemed more beautiful than they were just a few seconds ago-most especially Barry's face. It had been pitiful, but somehow, outside Paul's range of awareness, now it evolved into something to cuteness. So damn cute that Paul swore that it was not the strongest pokemon that he wanted most at that moment, not even the the Sinnoh League winner's cup given to him, but he would give everything in his possession just to kiss those soft lips of Barry's.

In an instant, Paul reached out for Barry's head. Tenderly, he ruffled his friends hair and stranded his silky blonde hair.

Barry could only gawk. True, Paul could be gentle sometimes, but never this affectionate before. As the weeping boy lifted his chin, his eyes met with his idolized friends. There, he could see how Paul gazed at him endlessly, comforting him with continual glances instead of words.

Before Barry could realize it, Paul's swift hands had drawn him closer and closer until their lips were pressed against each other.

Barry dared neither to breathe nor to blink. His head was spinning.

Barry wondered what the tingle that stared to grow in his chest was. Unfamiliar as it was, it certainly didn't displease him the slightest. His hero was kissing him. The purple haired male's feverish lips were parting his own, with tongue on alert to charge any moment his mouth opened wider.

Paul was the one who welcomed him to know his past the most. He gave him trust. He promised to be on his side whenever they were on the battle arena.

A pant finally broke from Barry's mouth, as he could no longer hold his breath. Paul was taken aback, awaken from the trance he was under. Both boys withdrew with scarlet cheeks. Silence presided over them.

Paul's eyebrows began to knit in a rising agitation; judging by the lack of response, Barty probably didn't want the kiss to happen in the first place. He cursed himself for being such a fool. How could he think Barry might actually love him? Barry had striven so hard to retrieve the birthday present from him, prior to the rescue earlier, but such a thing indicated no bond beyond friendship. None whatsoever. Why didn't he think of the possibility that Barry didn't love him that way? It was hard enough to keep up a ten-minute conversation with Barry. They weren't best pals or anything. In fact, come to think of it, the reason for Barry's worry was because he was simply too afraid to disobey him. Or perhaps he was a bad kisser; it was the first time in his life that he actually kissed someone.

Barry, on the other hand, regretted the kiss ending before he had come to his senses and given Paul a proper response. What if Paul thought he disliked being kissed? What if Paul even assume that he accepted the kiss only because of fear and nothing else? Furthermore, he wanted to savor more of how a kiss felt like, as he was lost in thoughts during their kiss earlier.

Eventually, although his face suffused with the deepest shade of crimson, Barry braced himself to say, "P-paul, I...I'd like to...k-kiss some m-more..."

Whatever Paul had in mind, it was surely not this. No matter how meek Barry's voice was, the blonde couldn't fully conceal the urgency in his tone. The purple haired male was in disbelief. Did he mishear Barry's utterance or was it just a wishful thinking, if not a delusion?

On perceiving Paul's jolt, Barry hastily added, "I-if you don't mind."