I bear another chapter come!

Disclaimer: If it wasn’t evident before, I don’t own pokemon! It belongs to Nintendo and Shogakukan Comics. CCS belongs to CLAMP and Kodansha. This non-profit, non-copyright infringing fanfiction belongs to me.

Notes: Championshipping. (Red x Lance) Can’t deal with it? Don’t read. Eh, lemon/lime in this chapter… Red and Lance getting it on, basically. *Shrugs* At least in the beginning… So nothing of import really happens in this chapter. Feel free to skip it.

Chapter 2

“And when you’re a Jet…” Red continued, watching the others.

“When you’re a Jet, you’re a Jet all the way, from your first cigarette, till your last dying day…” Lance smirked as he took a puff from a newly lit one, handed the glowing rod to Red, who exhaled with a grin.

The others shook their heads. Sure, if the leaders were cozy, it didn’t mean anything, but no one wanted to watch!

The gang took this as a cue to leave, and so they did, dispersing to get ready for the dance tonight…

Bruno ran off to find Brock. Someone had to inform him!

“Worried much?” Lance asked wryly.

“Nah.”

“When you’re a Jet, let them do what they can, you’ve got brothers around, you’re a family man!” Lance grinned, as he pulled Red into a hungry kiss.

“You’re never alone you’re never disconnected, you’re home with your own – when company’s expected, you’re well protected!” Red gasped for air, whimpering as Lance’s fangs pierced his throat – he didn’t mind the pain, but Gods, it almost made him come on the spot…

“Well protected?” Lance paused, raising an eyebrow, innocent. “I think you need protection, my dear Leader…”

Red snarled. “Don’t stop.” His eyes dilated in a soundless scream as Lance’s sharp-nailed fingers slid beneath the material of his t-shirt and tweaked a nipple mercilessly, sweet anticipation. “Lance~!”

“Then you are set, with a capital J, Which you’ll never forget, ‘till they cart you away! When you’re a Jet, you stay a Jet!” Lance finished toying with the little buds, his hands sliding down to Red’s waist, before Red yanked him in for another kiss. Lance tasted of smoke and peppermint and he ground his hips against the other boy's impatiently, fuming silently…

“When you’re a Jet, you’re the top cat in town, you’re the gold-medal kid with a heavyweight crown!” Damn zippers! His hands fumbled irritably with the fly, finally managing to get Lance’s pants down… he wanted his reward now.

“When you’re a Jet, you’re the swingingest thing, little boy you’re a man, little man, you’re a king!” Lance almost purred the words out as Red’s hand closed around his throbbing hardness. “Red, we’re in the middle of the street!” He hissed.

Red colored for a second, then leaned into Lance’s embrace as they flared blue. Teleport. Useful in certain situations, like these…

“The Jets are in gear, our cylinders are clicking, the Sharks will steer clear, cause every Puerto Rican is a lousy chicken!” Red gasped, wondering when their positions had been switched – Lance wasn’t that fast, and he could barely keep coherent thought anymore…

Ah, what did it matter anyways?

“Here come the Jets, like a bat out of hell, someone gets in our way, someone don’t feel so well!” Lance whispered, as his fingers tightened – Red gave a choked gasp as pleasure overrode his systems, and he collapsed against Lance with a gasp.

Lance cleaned his fingers of the spilled fluids and shrugged. “Here come the Jets, little world step aside! Better go underground, better run, better hide!” He looked at Red as the younger boy took a few deep breaths and then smirked back at him.

“Oh, I would never hide from you…”

“Would… you run then?” Lance asked, as Red yanked their shirts off. Red didn’t reply as his own hands began to roam his lover’s torso, wincing at several of the scars.

“No, I don’t think so.” He began to rub his knee ever-so-innocently against the slight bulge in Lance’s boxers.

Lance’s fingers tightened in Red’s hair and Red turned to smile sweetly at his friend, before his hands were once again closed around their prize. “We’re drawing the line, so keep your noses hidden, we’re hanging up a sign, says ‘Visitors forbidden’ – and we aren’t kidding!”

“Lucky I’m… not visiting then,” Lance whispered. Red was a bit too busy to reply, but he nodded to convey his message.

“Here come the Jets, and we’re gonna beat, every last bugging gang off the whole bugging street off the whole, bugging, ever-loving street!”

“I never knew you could hit notes that high, Lance.” Red commented; duty finished as he licked his lips.

The second turned to glare at his commander. “You were quite persuasive. It’s getting dark though…”

“Eh, Bruno probably went to talk to Brock. Or someone will.”

Lance’s lips quirked in a smile. “I see.”

“We ought to get ready for the dance then.”

“Mmhmm… my forgetful leader…”

Really, their color was gold, but golden clothes stood out. Still… Red began to dress as he rummaged through his closet. “Well, let me see… what are you going to wear?”

Lance shrugged. “I’m formal enough as it is.”

“Might want to put the pants and other… things back on, Lance.” Red said dryly.

His second laughed and walked into the shower. Red paused, deciding that it was a good idea, after all, going to the dance all sweaty and sticky wouldn’t make a good impression, even if everyone – well, a lot of people – fine, his gang knew what was really going on!

Caution never hurts…

Lance didn’t turn around as the curtain slid open. “Red. You do know that this… is undersized for whatever activity we may choose to engage in now?”

“Aw, you’re so cute when you’re formal!” Red grinned back. He began to trace the curly wing tattoos on Lance’s face, a strange inverted reflection of his own, which were straight lines. “I’m bored, my dear second… and that’s not a good thing.”

“I see.” The redhead smirked, and pulled Red into another kiss, lifting him off the floor. “This will be fun.”

“Yes, we’ll have lots of fun tonight!”

Elsewhere…

“So you’ll come to the dance? For me?”

Brock sighed. “Sure, Bruno. But I’m not fighting.”

“Of course not. You’re just there for moral support.”

“Moral support eh?” Brock nodded. “I wish…”

“Maybe you’ll find that dame you’re dreaming about tonight, hey?”

“Maybe.” Brock said, watching as Bruno left. It wouldn’t be so bad… go to a dance, give moral support… and they couldn’t fight there anyways.

What did he have to lose?

End Chapter

Completed 8/12/05

Phantomness: *smirk*

Lance: You like it then? You wrote a whole chapter on us having sex?

Phantomness: I thought it was done tastefully…