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Previously: Hanzo arrived in Goldenrod just to find that his brother has already swept the scene and not only gotten his first badge but also started pandemonium. After having some angry sex through which he obtained his second Pokémon, he is dead set on getting his first badge.

warnings/content: pity fuck; clothed fuck; mild exhibitionism

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Hanzo isn’t surprised in the least when, upon summoning Ponyta, it only throws him a dirty look before prancing away to the very edge of the Pokémon Center’s backyard to chew on a bit of grass there.

He is prepared, at least. He had used the early morning hours to find a specialty store run by an old couple and bought a few snacks for his Pokémon.

“Ponyta. Look at these.”

He holds them out on both hands like offerings. Ponyta looks over to them with such an uninterested gaze that for a moment he fears it will simply ignore them, but after a few seconds, curiosity gets the better of the little stallion.

Ponyta comes closer, sniffing at the colorful cubes in his palms, then carefully plucking one up with its soft lips.

“We have a new team member,” Hanzo begins carefully, head tilting toward the onsen where the red of Magikarp’s scales can be seen glittering every now and then. Upon Ponyta looking, he throws a few smaller treats toward the bath tub, glad that Magikarp manages to snatch them out of the air before they sully the water.

Ponyta looks interested for about two seconds before it turns back to its treats.

Poor Magikarp. Nobody seems interested in it at all. Hanzo can’t help but feel a certain… kinship with the pathetic thing.

“In any case. It won’t be able to help us this time; I have not yet tested its moves. So this gym is all us. We have trained for it. I am certain you will be able to defeat the competition with ease.”

He looks into Ponyta’s large, dark eyes. It is still chewing but at least its ears have lifted now and are slightly turned towards him as if against its will.

“I know this is probably… scary,” he winces a little at his own inability to give a pep talk, “...but I am sure that you can do it. You remember Ember and Stomp, don’t you?”

The latter they would still have to work on as Ponyta’s strength still lacked the certain oomph, but he is sure that a hit from the diamond hard hooves will prove painful nonetheless.

Ponyta looks very interested now. It seems to have forgotten its earlier grievances with Hanzo, and is standing at perfect attention, almost vibrating on the spot with eagerness.

That’s it. That’s what he is looking for.

Hanzo inhales deeply and nods at it.

“Good. Then let us go: to our first gym.”

.oOo.

The Goldenrod City gym is a rectangular, moderately tall structure without too much of the bling that makes up the rest of the city.

The guard at the entrance looks over Hanzo’s credentials – which are close to none as of now, other than his gym leader father – and then instructs him to get in and wait for the gym leader.

“Since it’s your first gym, Baptiste will decide whether he will take you on immediately or pitch you against some of the other trainers first.”

Hanzo nods, not in the least surprised about the rules; they are quite similar to Hanamura gym’s.

He is so early in the day that the entrance hall is barely lit. The guard told him to walk right through the left door labelled ‘arena’, so he does just that, refusing to acknowledge how hard his heart is starting to pound.

Forcing himself to breathe, Hanzo looks around the large hall. He tries to remember the type that this gym specializes in. For a second he wishes he had taken up Genji’s offer to tell him a bit about the fight he is about to face, but… no. No, his pride wouldn’t allow him to stoop to such low tactics.

As he stands on the sand, Ponyta’s ball clutched in his hand, nearly too hot to the touch against his palm, the overhead lights suddenly start humming to life one after another.

His heart jerks awkwardly in his chest, nausea trying to work its way up his throat. He swallows hard and stiffens his back. He is suitably sure he and Ponyta will manage to win their first badge with ease. They have been training.

A man appears through a door at the other end of the large arena. He is tall and broad shouldered, waving toward Hanzo in a friendly manner.

“Hello there! You’re quite the early bird! I like that.”

Hanzo starts to relax a little. He gives the approaching gym leader a little bow. From what he knows, Baptiste has taken over this gym just a couple years ago but is well respected.

“Oh, a bow… just had that one yesterday.” His smile looks a bit confused as he looks Hanzo up and down, then takes a slip of paper from the guard that is hurrying toward him and then out after giving Hanzo a reassuring thumbs-up.

Baptiste comes to a halt some five meters from Hanzo, one hand on his hip as he studies the paper.

“Oh… Shimada… another son? That was your older brother yesterday, huh?”

Hanzo’s mouth twists downward.

“No. It was my younger brother,” he says, enunciating his words crisply. He can tell that Baptiste feels he has stepped into a bit of a mind field as his eyes become more wary. He elaborates a little less tersely: “My father thought it prudent to send us off at the same time so we could-”

Baptiste relaxes, the smale from before coming back full force. He has two charming dimples left and right on his cheeks.

“So you could keep an eye on him, huh? Yeah, I get that. He’s a bit wild. A good trainer, though.”

Hanzo relaxes further, just nodding as Baptiste reaches up to thoughtfully rub his chin.

“I guess I’m your first gym as well, huh? That’s no problem. Being Sojiro’s sons I think we can just omit the pre-fights and get right to it.”

His hand moves back down to the belt of shrunk Pokéballs. He plucks one right from the middle, holding it up for Hanzo to see.

“Are you ready, then?”

For the first time since stepping into the gym, Hanzo smirks a little, his blood pumping faster as his own hand reaches down for Ponyta’s Pokéball, his thumb dragging over the stylized flame engraved in its red cap.

“Yes.”

.o.

They each move to their side of the field. Hanzo’s heart is racing, but his mind is cool and clear. He’s done this a million times with his father’s Pokémon. There is no need to be nervous.

He needs to be the calm for Ponyta who undoubtedly will be all over the place.

Baptiste’s wide smile is visible even from this distance. He is a young and charming gym leader – Hanzo is sure that he will pull this gym up into something even more prestigious than it is now.

For a few long seconds there is nothing but silence in the large hall, until suddenly a sharp bell rings, signalling the start of the match.

Hanzo throws his ball – as does Baptiste.

The gym leaders match the strength of their Pokémon to the experience of the trainers they are battling so Hanzo is not surprised to see a little Shuckle when the light disappears. It is wriggling its tentacles in a friendly manner, its head bobbing back and forth as it watches Ponyta.

“Oh, a fire type. Hard first match-up for you. I’m sure you can do it, though!” Baptiste calls over. His voice sounds a bit more wild than before. Hanzo can tell that he is into this fight as much as he is – even though he surely is used to more high-stakes matches.

Ponyta’s head is up, ears alert as it dances closer to the Shuckle. Hanzo isn’t sure what it has in mind to do. Maybe just check it out?

It has no idea what it is seeing, that much is clear.

Baptiste doesn’t waste any time, though.

“Shuckle! Sandattack!”

Time feels like it is slowing down. Hanzo has a horrible deja-vu as he watches one of Shuckle’s soft yellow arms reach out, scooping a good amount of sand from the floor and throwing it right into Ponyta’s curious face.

Just as it had done a couple days ago, Ponyta screeches, rearing up on its hind legs and taking some stumbling steps away while wildly shaking its head.

Hanzo’s mouth becomes dry.

“Ponyta! Shake it off and kick Shuckle!”

But Ponyta isn’t doing any of the sort. It does keep wildly shaking its head, but it also bucks high into the air as if trying to throw someone off. Hanzo licks his lips nervously.

“Ponyta! Get yourself together! Try to use Ember!” maybe having it attack from farther away would do the trick… but Ponyta doesn’t do it. It has managed to blink away the sand and is just staring balefully at Shuckle from a good ten feet distance.

It refuses to step closer, no matter what Hanzo is calling over.

All the while, Baptiste just watches, an expression of confused worry on his face.

“Uhm… do you need a moment?”

Hanzo’s body is hot with embarrassment.

“Ponyta…” he can’t help how pleading his voice sounds.

“What’s its problem? Has it not fought before?”

Hanzo presses his lips tight together.

“No, that’s not… I uhm.” He closes his eyes, gathering himself so he wouldn’t be a mumbling buffoon on top of everything else. “It had an unfortunate run-in with my brother’s Rockruff. Maybe it is… a bit afraid of rock types now.”

Baptiste’s expression becomes immediately sympathetic. He looks over to Ponyta who is still shaking its head every now and then and rubbing its face against its front legs.

“I suspect that it will take a bit of time and a stronger bond to your Pokémon to overcome this little… quirk. Do you have a different opponent?”

The corners of Hanzo’s mouth start to pull down, his insides curdling like spoilt milk as he sees his first gym match ending in an utter debacle. Of course he could move to the next city and loop back toward this gym eventually but… the thought of being behind his little brother is giving him near physical pain.

He grits out between his teeth: “A Magikarp.”

“Ah.”

Baptiste’s face says it all. The silence in the arena stretches until he finally lifts his hand and calls his Shuckle back to its Ball. Hanzo, taking his cue, calls Ponyta back as well. His mouth tastes like sawdust as he stares back at the gym leader, unsure what to say.

Should he apologize?

His insides clench together while Baptiste scratches the artfully cut side of his head and obviously thinks. He seizes Hanzo up and down for a moment before waving him closer.

“Come, follow me. I might have a solution to your problem.”

Hanzo, body numb, follows behind him and has to use up all his brain power to not stumble over his own feet.

Ponyta’s Pokéball feels swelteringly hot in the palm of his hand. Maybe it is embarrassed? He doesn’t know. He puts it back to his belt right next to Magikarp who poses a cool counterpoint against his hip.

He follows Baptiste out of the arena and into an elevator. They quietly move up into the eighth story. During their ride he has a feeling Baptiste is watching him, but whenever he peers at him out of the corner of his eyes, the man is standing there loose limbed and seemingly close to bored.

Hanzo is led into what he assumes is the gym leader’s office. It is spacious with large windows and several types of rock shown off in several cabinets.

Baptiste comes to a stand close to his large desk. Hanzo notes how he is not offered the comfortable looking seat that is for visitors.

Sweat begins to prickle along his hairline as he stands with his back a bit stiffer, looking at the man.

Baptiste looks back quietly, his face an expression that Hanzo can’t quite make out. It is not hostile, at the very least. Speculative, maybe? Pitying?

Baptiste turns around after giving Hanzo another slow once-over and reaches to pull open one of the drawers of his desk. He takes something out and holds it up for Hanzo to see between his pointer finger and thumb.

The rock badge of the Goldenrod City Gym.

The hair at the back of his neck prickle as they stand at attention. He stares at the badge, then up at Baptiste’s face.

“This is what you need, is it not?”

Not this is what you want.

This is what you need. He knows exactly what is going through Hanzo’s head.

Hanzo licks his lips, his heart rate spiking.

“Yes.”

“You don’t want to go out there empty handed after your little brother managed to secure his badge. And you don’t want me to report your failure back to your father when he, inevitably, asks.”

Hanzo’s mouth goes dry again, though this time for wholly different reasons as he suddenly puts two and two together. Baptiste’s intense looks. His very open reasoning. Hanzo’s body tingles – especially his nipples.

“Yes,” he rasps. His hand slowly moves to the strap of his backpack and he shrugs it off, gently putting it down against the foot of a cabinet next to him. When he turns back, Baptiste has started smiling at him again; that same handsome smile from before.

“I see you understand,” he says approvingly. He puts the badge right in the middle of his desk with a soft click that has a shudder racing through Hanzo’s body from top to bottom. “You can take it afterwards,” Baptiste promises. “Nobody will ever be the wiser. I’m not an asshole.”

Hanzo knows. Baptiste doesn’t seem like the guy to twist an arm and do blackmail. He certainly doesn’t look like he’d need such dirty tricks. He’s handsome and cool, waving Hanzo closer with a hand while looking at him like he’s already picturing him naked.

“You look a lot like your daddy… the whole family’s gorgeous, huh?”

Hanzo swallows hard. He’s close enough that Baptiste can reach out and curl his fingers slowly around his wrist, tugging him along. Up close, the dimples in his cheeks are even deeper and more charming. He smells… incredible.

There is a smattering of ear studs glinting in one lobe that pulls Hanzo’s attention as if he were a fish staring up at the water’s surface.

Baptiste’s grin widens as he sees his dazed look. He leans in until his perfume is all Hanzo can think about. He inhales deeply, his body thrumming with need. Breath tickles his ear as Baptiste whispers: “Spread your legs if you want to be a Pokémon Master.”

.o.

Hanzo hits the large glass window with a bit of a thud. His heated cheek is pressed against the glass, fingers scrabbling against the surface.

He would be worrying about leaving behind smears that would alert someone to the fact that he’s gotten fucked right there, but his brain is scrambled from the thumbs spreading his hole open and the tongue tickling his rim between bouts of diving in deep.

Beneath them, the main street of Goldenrod City is bustling with activity. He can see people down there going about their business, buying and selling stuff and just enjoying the nice weather while Hanzo is getting his ass licked until his rim is slippery and soft.

He’s sweating in his clothes. Neither of them has really taken their time to get naked; all Baptiste seemed to be interested in is to shove Hanzo’s shirt up enough to free his tits and get his pants down enough so he can work at getting his cunt nice and ready for a dicking.

Hanzo… doesn’t mind. It’s flattering. He also likes the cool of the glass as his chest is pressed into it, spine arched hard enough to ache. He tries to push back and ride Baptiste’s tongue. Stars are exploding behind his eyelids whenever he closes them. He’s… never gotten rimmed before.

His knees feel a bit weak.

If he unfocuses his eyes enough, he can see the reflection of the badge in the glass. That makes this all the dirtier… and more exciting.

His father would have a heart attack if he knew Hanzo was fucking his way to his first badge. That’s good. That’s really good.

That’s what you get for humiliating me by sending me off with my little brother and a baby Pokémon, he thinks vindictively.

Baptiste is standing up behind him. He’s so tall, he can easily dwarf Hanzo, kissing the bend of his neck and lightly biting his ear as he works a condom over his cock. That reminds him that the guy last night didn’t wear any…

Oh well…

Hanzo shudders. He is… enjoying all of this way more than he should. He turns his head, trying to hide it in his arm.

Baptiste sees it but comes to the wrong conclusion, of course: “Aw, are you shy? Don’t worry… we’re too high for anybody to see… as long as nobody flies by, that is.”

He chuckles low, relishing in the shudder of Hanzo’s body as he puts his tip against Hanzo’s clenching, spit wet hole.

“Relax now… breathe out…”

Hanzo nods along. It becomes harder to keep his mouth closed, so he just… stop it. His tongue flops out naturally as he presses his flaming red face harder into the crook of his elbow and relaxes himself, pushing against Baptiste’s cock-

It’s… really easy for it to slip inside. He’s still fucked soft from the night before. Baptiste still feels big. He grunts into Hanzo’s ear and mutters a tense sounding: “Tight.”

Hanzo’s toes curl in his boots. His body thrums. He feels drunk despite not having imbibed anything. Baptiste’s presence at his back is weirdly calming. He just radiates this ‘I got everything under control’ energy that Hanzo is thirsting for.

God yeah, and he’s nice and fat inside him, spreading his rim and making it burn just right. It’s a far cry from last night’s cock.

Hanzo can’t help the explosive groan ripped from him, or how he is clenching down lovingly on the cock that is slowly fed to him deeper and deeper.

Baptiste is breathing harsh as well, one arm bracing himself against the glass while his other hand, big and warm, sits on Hanzo’s hip to hold him.

“Shit… you’re a little slut, huh?” he croons low. “Didn’t think you’d take cock so well… but you’re a natural. You’ve been so damn ready for it. Fucked a lot of guys at your dojo?”

No, he didn’t. He didn’t really fuck for a long time. Not until now, really. Hanzo doesn’t say anything. He just coasts on the feeling of getting filled and listening to Baptiste’s dirty talk; a weird brand of derisive and praising. It fills Hanzo just as much as his dick, making him prickle from the inside out.

His cock is bumping against the glass every now and then, leaving behind wet smears while Baptiste finally bottoms out.

The base of his cock is just a bit fatter than the shaft of it. It has Hanzo’s eyes roll up into his head, his knees going a bit weak.

“Damn, I love tight sluts like you. You fit me like a glove… who’d’ve thought you could take cock like a champ?”

He moves in an unhurried, sinewy motion. It’s so smooth that it takes Hanzo’s breath away. It lights his body up.

It’s no rude, almost brutal dicking but a nice and calm fucking that feels... adult for lack of a better word. Like all the other encounters in his life had just been the fumbling of teenagers (which was maybe true).

No, here is someone to hold him down – or press him into the glass, as it were – and stopping him from vibrating out of his skin as he is being used unmistakeably and without pretense as a cumdump.

There are no feelings attached; no affection beyond the rudimentary understanding that they are liking each other’s style. Just Baptiste offering a service and Hanzo paying with the clutching, clenching heat of his ass as he lets himself be used as a fleshlight.

He shifts minimally, putting his forehead against his forearm. Like this he can stare directly down at the crowded street. It feels so naughty getting fucked in his clothes, his tits groped by Baptiste’s large hands and nipples pulled as if they were teats, tears springing to his eyes from the excellent sharp pain that shoots through him whenever Baptiste makes use of his nails.

He’s filled and fucked like a bitch. At one point, Baptiste puts one hand on the back of his neck, completely covering him with his large, warm palm. It makes him feel scruffed like an animal. It’s good.

Hanzo closes his eyes, his brows pulling together as he tries to focus on clenching down on the dick sawing into his body. Baptiste has grown more or less silent after his first few outbursts, just the sound of his heavy breathing right against Hanzo’s skin, interspersed with low murmurs of ‘fuck’ or ‘tight’ as he dicks him.

“Want me to give you a hand?”

The sudden question takes Hanzo by surprise. He is slick with sweat, his body primed like a finely tuned weapon. He is shaking, he realizes dazedly, his cock so painfully hard that it stands straight, the tip near purple. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he should… touch himself.

He has difficulty parsing the question. He feels like Baptiste’s cock has somehow scrambled his brain alongside his intestines.

“Whu...nnn?”

He has no idea what his tongue is doing. Baptiste doesn’t seem too worried by it. He hums and lets go off the base of Hanzo’s neck – but not his pectoral; that one he keeps roughly kneading – to instead grab his cock.

He hisses softly into his ear, muttering about how fever hot his skin feels. The sensation of a hand tugging his dick is… it’s so sharp it’s almost too much. He cries out roughly, tears stinging his eyes again, overstimulated without having orgasmed yet.

It makes him want to not come, fearing just how sensitive he might become but… it’s out of his hands, really. His body is shooting off like a rocket anyway, suddenly erupting with an orgasm that had been lurking just beyond his perception.

He’s not… really sure what happens for the next ten minutes after that.

.o.

When Hanzo really comes to, it is because someone is nudging a cool glass of water against the back of his neck.

He realizes that he is kneeling on the floor, his cheek squished against the glass he’s gotten fucked against. Just a hand breadth from his nose, his cum is dripping down the smooth surface in sticky streaks.

He blinks slowly and twists to stare up at Baptiste who offers him the cold glass of water.

Taking it, Hanzo shuffles awkwardly around. His hole is… gaping it feels like. Fucked raw and sensitive in the best way. His clothes are still all over the place; he must look like a cheap slut. Baptiste doesn’t mention it, though.

The Goldenrod City gym leader squats down in front of him. He looks pretty put together.

“You alright?”

Hanzo nods slowly as he sips the water. Baptiste grins charmingly.

“Great. Listen… There’s a bathroom just down the hall. You can take your time. Get yourself back together. Just close the door of my office when you’re done, alright? I got a few trainers waiting downstairs for a match…”

He looks at Hanzo critically, obviously trying to gauge whether he can leave him alone as he is.

Hanzo feels more alive by the second as he sips the cool water and probably must look like it as well because the set of Baptiste’s shoulders relaxes considerably.

“Alright. It was nice getting to know you, Hanzo. You’re a very promising… trainer.” The dimples in his cheeks deepen. “I’m looking forward to meeting you again. Maybe get a rematch when your Ponyta feels better. I could see that the both of you can become a very formidable pair.

Just keep working, right? You got this.”

He nudges Hanzo’s jaw with his knuckles as if they were… sparring buddies or some kind, then stands and pats down his pants before making his way out of his office.

And that’s that.

Hanzo takes a few more minutes before he gets up and pulls his shirt down and his pants up. His hole is wet and loose, reminding him that he got fucked two days in a row.

On the table is the shiny badge that Baptiste had promised him. He takes it and tucks it into his pocket before grabbing his backpack and leaving the office to freshen up in the bathroom.

Hanzo fucked his way to his first badge.

It doesn’t taste as bitter in his mouth as he thought it would. It doesn’t taste bad at all, if he’s being honest.


Next time: Making his way out of Goldenrod City, Hanzo is forced by a sudden heavy downpour to hide away in a cave where he meets an… ally? But first: A battle!

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