In Which Picky Remembers

It was about a week before Picky again was led up to the now-familiar room of his new best friend. His brother, Pokey, caught him being escorted out of Ness's home and decided it would be best to inform his parents. "That way," he had said, "you'll be punished instead of me, for once." So he was simply grounded to his room, instead of the more harsh punishment Pokey was hoping for. Being the more trustworthy of the two, however, his parents decided to allow him to roam wherever he wanted afterwards—considering he was home for dinner.

And so Picky returned to Ness, with hardly any thought to his parents' wishes. Sitting on the now-familiar bed, he explained to the older boy why he hadn't been over recently. He was met with sympathy.

"I really don't like your brother," Ness said. "He seems to think that he constantly needs to be a jerk." Picky fiddled with his fingers. "I don't understand it either," he murmured. "But—" he piped up. "But I'm really glad we're…we're friends."

Ness grinned. "Me too. None of my other friends live close enough that they can come visit whenever, so it's nice having you around." He inched closer and wrapped his arm around Picky's shoulders, pulling him into a half hug. Picky turned to face Ness, burying his face into his soft cotton t-shirt.

"Ness?" he whispered. Ness hummed in reply. After a beat, he continued, "Do you really love me?"

Picky pulled away and looked him straight in the eye—not that Ness could have told he was, anyway. "What do you mean?" was his answer.

"You said last time that you loved me." He looked down. "Right?"

An awkward silence followed, Picky staring at his knees and Ness staring at the top of Picky's head. "I don't—know," he mumbled. "I—I mean, I really do like you. You really are my friend, and—"

"You remember what we did last time?" The younger boy shook his head once, leaving it turned to the side. "Sorry for interrupting you. But do you?"

Ness noticed his companion's flushing face. "Yeah, I—helped you masturbate." The other shivered noticeably at the word.

"Why did you do that?"

"You didn't like it? What?"

"No, not that." He sighed in slight frustration. "I mean, only people who love each other touch each other like that, right?"

He was met with silence, and when the other boy didn't answer, he continued "Well…I love you, at least." And he returned to his arms, nuzzling his neck. After awhile, Ness hugged Picky back, peppering the top of his head with kisses.

"I love you, too." He whispered, separating themselves only to bring them together again, lightly kissing him on the lips. Picky murmured something inaudible, and melted into the kiss. As he had done before, the younger boy opened his mouth enough to allow Ness to taste his mouth. He moaned gently as Ness forced his tongue under his, letting Picky explore the cave of his own mouth.

Silently, Ness slipped his hands under his friend's shirt, stroking hardened nipples, eliciting muffled grunts of pleasure. The hands around his back took handfuls of the fabric he was wearing.

Picky pulled away, panting, and Ness wasted no time. He kissed the gentle slope of the younger boy's neck, nipping occasionally at the spots that made him moan the loudest. He glanced up at his friend, who was biting his lower lip. "Let's do something different today," he said, sitting up.

"What's…what's that?"

"Get on your knees, 'kay?—No, not on the bed, on the floor. Right." He pressed his feet to the knees on the floor, making sure they'd stay still. With a smooth maneuver, his shorts were unbuttoned and his otherwise-unnoticeable erection exposed. Picky was obviously taken aback by this, with it pointing right at him, and Ness put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"And—well, lick it."

Picky dazedly stared up at him before again turning his attention what was immediately before him. He took it in hand and leaned closer, again glancing at the boy looking down on him. After being met with a smile, he slowly licked the shaft of the slightly throbbing member.

"Aah…" was the answer to his action, motivation to rid him of his doubts. He licked again, from the hilt to the head, and took the head into his mouth. When he heard the groans that that had earned, he ran his tongue around the tip, licking off the small glob of precum that had formed there.

"P-Picky—naah—" Ness whispered, running his hand through the boy's hair. Picky bobbed his head, taking in more and more, giving a firm suck, and returning back to his original position at the tip. He managed to take in the entirety of the erection, curling his tongue around the shaft.

"Gah!—'m coming," the older boy moaned, pushing Picky off. Before Picky could say anything, two thick ropes of cum were shot onto his face, most landing in his hair. He shook his head, surprised by the sudden weight that had been added to his bangs.

"O-oh! Sorry," Ness muttered, climbing to his feet. "Sorry. Sorry." He grabbed a box of tissues and knelt next to the younger boy, who was busy trying to comb the ooze out of his hair with his fingers. "Here," he said, thrusting tissues into Picky's free hand. He jumped up again to find his comb.

"I'm really sorry," he repeated. "It's fine, really…" Picky replied, combing his bangs. "You don't have to apologize so much…"

"Well, I mean, I didn't think you'd want to swallow it, and I forgot your hair covered your face, and…" Ness never finished his sentence. Instead, he gazed somewhat stupidly at the younger boy's hair. "Why do you cover your face with your hair, anyway?"

"I don't know."

"Can I see your eyes?"

Picky seemed to be taken aback somewhat at this. "I guess, I mean…" Ness leaned forward and brushed the somewhat damp blonde bangs aside, revealing murky blue-green eyes.

"Oh…" he murmured, scanning his friend's face. "Nothing's wrong with you."

"Of course not. What were you expecting?"

"Like a scar, or something cool like that."

Picky snorted. "Nope."

Ness let the hair fall back into place. "Well…You'd better go take a shower or something before it dries."

"Yeah…"

"Sorry again."

"It's nothing, really." He stood up. "Do you want this comb back, or…?"

"Yeah, I—I mean, I guess." He took the comb and got to his feet as well. For awhile, they just stood there. Picky glanced down. "Um, your shorts…" Ness looked down as well. "Oh! Oh, yeah." He buttoned them hastily, tucking his now limp member safely back inside his underwear.

An awkward silence followed. Ness, breaking the silence, took Picky into his arms and whispered "I love you." The younger boy returned the hug and said into his shirt, "I love you, too."

Ness gave a final squeeze. "Well, I'll show you out." He said, starting for the door. They headed down the stairs and passed his mother on the couch. "It was nice seeing you again, Picky," she called after them, looking up from her magazine and smiling. Picky stepped out onto the dirt road. He decided to take the long way around, hoping to avoid his brother. He had enough time before dinner.

Picky rolled over, burying his face into his sheets. Ness had just left Onett without saying a word to him, off to save the world. Pokey had shown little interest in what was happening with this alien thing, but after Ness was commended for stopping the Sharks, all Pokey wanted to do was stop him.

"I'm sick of him," he muttered one night, stuffing clothes, his stash of snacks, and some money into his backpack. "Always getting the glory, and for what? He should'a left the Sharks to the cops. It's their job anyway. Who does he think he is?"

And, without looking back, Pokey left. Pokey left to stop Ness, who seemed to have totally forgotten Picky after just one night. He rolled over again and tried not to think about it. But he could have at least said goodbye—Ness, that is; Picky found it hard to really care what his brother did. What could he do, anyway? Ness was much stronger than he was. How much of a threat could he possibly be?

Frustrated, Picky kicked his blankets off of him. He rolled out of bed and stepped over to the window—quietly, so as not to wake his parents below him. He opened the window and let the cool gush of air surround him.

How much of a threat could he possibly be?