Small Town, Big Jerk

As you walk towards the Professor's lab, you lose yourself in thought. What kind of Trainer do you want to be?

The most successful tended to stick to one type of Pokemon and grow their knowledge of said type to sometimes ridiculous extremes, eventually becoming Gym Leaders or even one of the Elite Four. The best of the best even became Champion of the entire League.

Were you really that ambitious? Most Trainers found other careers they wanted to follow along their journeys and ended up doing those... and of course, there were those who failed completely and just went home to live quite lives doing non-Pokemon related things like being a homemaker or--

You are drawn out of your thoughts as an unfortunately familiar feeling hand suddenly slaps you on the ass through your jeans. "Hey, Loser," the owner of the hand says, the voice indicating the massive smirk you knew was going to be on his face before turning around to see it, "So today's the day, huh?"

Ugh. It was Blue. The grandson of Professor Oak and your childhood friend... as far as you could call someone as headache inducing as him a friend. But it was a small town and you were next door neighbors, so you didn't really have many options for people your age. "Hello," you say back coldly giving him your harshest glare.

"So you're really going through with it, Loser?" Blue says, "You REALLY think you got what it takes to be a Trainer? Ha! We BOTH know the only thing you're good at!"

Your face turns beet red. Another drawback to him being the only one your age in town was that, despite his irritating personality, neither of you had any other truly viable options for exploring your budding sexuality when your hormones had started taking their toll on your bodies. It had lead to some... interesting experiments but most times when you were both in the mood, you tended to be in the mood for different things and decided which to do through some form of game.

Unfortunately, this was also the source of why Blue tended to call you "Loser" instead of your name. Somehow, either through greater skill or some twist of dumb luck, nine times out of ten Blue ended up winning and you were subject to his whims. You HAD gotten quite good at getting him off as a result but like hell were you going to give him the satisfaction of saying that.

"That's what you think," you snap back, "I could end up being a natural at this and become the Pokemon League Champion before the year is out!"

Blue laughs in your face. "Oooh, so ambitious," he says with a mocking tone, "and maybe I'll be the one to be the Champion before you even make it to Viridian City!"

You roll your eyes in response and Blue's smirk suddenly grows larger. "But hey," he says, "why don't we make a little bet?"

"What kind of bet?"

"When Grandpa gives us our Pokemon, we fight a little duel first thing. See how natural we really are!"

"Alright," You respond with a nod, "If I win, you have to sit at home and give me a week head-start on my Pokemon journey."

"Fair enough," Blue says, "And if I win..."

Suddenly, you're aware that he never quite removed his hand from your ass as he gives your lower cheek another squeeze and steps towards you closer, your eyes widening as he presses his body up against yours and whispers in your ear, "... You give me whatever I want from you as a going away present, Red."

The sensation of your breasts flattening against his chest, combined with his scent filling your nostrils and the fact that he used your name, which he usually only did in the most intimate of circumstances, conflicts with your irritation at his presumption of your willingness and the possessive way he looks at you. Still, the word, "FINE," spills out of your mouth as you push him away and add, "Hope you like playing with yourself for a week!"

Blue laughs as the two of you separate. "We'll see," he says, "Smell ya later, Loser!"

Then he is gone, leaving you to rub your temples to fight off the headache his words cause and also take deep breaths to get your stupid, traitorous hormones to calm down.

Now in a much more frustrated mood (on multiple levels), you continue walking.