"It's your fault," Kian said, his voice low and devoid of any apology. He stood there, legs slightly apart, letting the moonlight filter through the trees to illuminate exactly what he was talking about. The bulge in his jeans was angry, prominent, and straining against the zipper with a persistence that defied gravity. "The view was... let's just say it was too good to ignore. My body reacted. It's biology, Daisy. Don't act surprised."
Daisy's mouth fell open, then snapped shut. Her face was already a brilliant shade of crimson, but at his brazen admission, it deepened to a shade bordering on maroon.
"Fuck you, men," she hissed, spinning on her heel to face away from him. "You're all animals. Every single one of you."
She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, staring into the dark abyss of the forest, trying to regain her composure. But the image—the sheer size of it, the hardness she had seen outlined against his thigh—was burned into her retinas.
Curiosity, that traitorous instinct, got the better of her.
She tilted her head slightly, biting her lower lip. Her eyes darted to the side, trying to steal a covert glimpse from her peripheral vision. She just wanted to see if... if it had gone down. If he was decent yet.
Kian caught her. Of course he caught her.
"If you want to look, just look," Kian teased, his voice thick with amusement. He took a step closer to her back. "I have no problem with an audience. In fact, it might help 'fix' the problem if you stare a little harder."
Daisy jumped as if electrocuted. She whipped her head forward, shaking it violently to clear the thoughts forming in her mind.
"Shut up!" she shrieked, her voice cracking. "Just... fix that thing! Think about... I don't know, Muk! Or Weezing! Just make it go away!"
"It doesn't work like that when I have a view like you," Kian murmured, half to himself, but loud enough for her to hear.
Daisy let out a frustrated groan, stomping her foot. "Ahh! Because of you—and your distractions—we are not able to reach Pewter City! Look at this place!"
She gestured wildly at the small, mossy clearing they had stumbled into. "I think this place looks good to survive a night. It has tree cover. But seriously... where the fuck are the other trainers? We haven't seen a soul for hours."
Kian adjusted his stance, wincing slightly as the denim rubbed against his sensitivity. "Ahh, I guess we are different from others. We are deep in the forest, Daisy. Off the beaten path. That's why."
He looked around the silent, oppressive woods. "And also... no one with a sane mind would rest in a forest this deep at night. But we can't do anything about it now. The path is gone."
Daisy didn't have the energy to argue. The adrenaline of the trip and the shock of the "incident" were fading, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. Her legs felt like lead.
She walked over to the base of a large oak tree where the grass was thickest and collapsed. She didn't sit gracefully; she practically fell, sprawling out on the ground. She lay on her back, staring up at the black canopy, her chest rising and falling.
"Kian," she sighed, closing her eyes. "Go and find some wood. Or leaves. Or fucking anything. We need a fire. I am very tired, and it's getting cold."
Kian raised an eyebrow, looking down at her. Sprawled out like that, her white skirt had ridden up her thighs again. Not as revealing as the fall, but enough to show the smooth, pale skin of her legs.
"Why me?" Kian asked, crossing his arms. "You have hands. You can also do that."
Daisy cracked one eye open, glaring at him. "Don't you fucking see how tired I am? I ran all the way from Pallet Town! I've been walking in heels! You're the 'strong man' here, aren't you? Be useful!"
Kian stared at her for a moment. The entitlement was annoying, but the sight of her lying there, vulnerable and commanding at the same time, stirred something in him. He smirked.
"Okay, fine," he said, shrugging.
He took a step toward the underbrush, then stopped. A thought occurred to him. He was a System user. He was the Master. Why was he doing manual labor like a grunt?
"Ahh, wait," Kian muttered, stopping in his tracks. "Why I have to do that? I have Gardevoir."
He reached for his belt, his fingers curling around the cool metal of the Premier Ball.
"Come on out."
He tossed the ball into the air.
Pop.
A flash of white light illuminated the clearing, temporarily banishing the shadows. The energy coalesced into the elegant, white-and-green form of Gardevoir. She materialized silently, floating a few inches off the ground.
"Gar?" she chirped softly, tilting her head.
"Master," her voice echoed in his mind, sultry and eager. "I smell... another female. Why is she here?"
Kian ignored the telepathic jealousy for a moment. He pointed at the surrounding woods.
"Gardevoir," Kian commanded aloud, keeping up the charade for Daisy. "Use your psychic powers. Arrange some sticks and leaves. We need a fire, and I don't feel like getting my hands dirty."
Daisy sat up on her elbows, her eyes widening. "You... you're using a Psychic-type to gather firewood? That's... that's lazy! And brilliant."
Gardevoir looked at the woman on the ground. Her red eyes narrowed slightly. She could smell the pheromones coming off Daisy.
"She smells like you, Master," Gardevoir projected, her mental voice icy. "Why does she smell like your desire?"
Kian smirked at his Pokemon, communicating silently with a look. Because she's next. Now, get the wood.
Gardevoir's expression smoothed into a mask of obedience. She nodded.
Her eyes glowed a vibrant, neon blue.
Around the clearing, the forest floor began to tremble. Dead branches, dry leaves, and fallen logs lifted into the air, surrounded by a blue psychic aura. It was effortless. Dozens of pieces of wood floated from the darkness, converging in the center of the clearing like a swarm of obedient drones.
Kian watched, leaning against a tree, his erection finally starting to subside—but only slightly.
"See?" Kian said to Daisy, gesturing to the floating pile of firewood arranging itself into a perfect pyramid structure. "Work smarter, not harder."
Daisy watched the display of power, biting her lip. "Show off," she muttered, but she couldn't take her eyes off him.