[attr="class","mittag"]

Ashley Shepard

[attr="class","mitmain"]

Summer and Kepler have never gone hand in hand. Not willingly. More like… knife in hand. Moving to Hoenn after growing up in Sinnoh-- blessed Sinnoh with its summer snows and seasons in full quaternary cycles-- had made that fact much more evident.
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But after last summer, Splashfest, Mantine surfing, and surviving without developing malignant carcinoma of the dermis, he was dreading summer slightly less, now.
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Still, he’s lathered up with that good SPF 100 because no matter how much he invites the sun in with open arms it will always hurt him. He’s got his little swimsuit on and his super cute cover-up and he’s feeling great because he’s here, with Ash, and neither of them is on the verge of dying, for the moment.
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“Me, too,” he says, and he bumps his head against Ash’s bicep before setting about releasing his hooligans from their confines: Jupiter and Calirrhoe charge towards the surf, the Wartortle hoisting Titan above her head like she’s about to slam dunk him in the sea; Lysithea and Cloudstrike have elected to play volleyball using Euanthe as the ball, setting the Chinchou back and forth as she shrieks in glee.
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“I never put much stock in relaxing on the beach before but this is nice. Good call, babe.”

[attr="class","mitpoke"]

[attr="class","mittag"]

Ashley Shepard

[attr="class","mitmain"]

Kepler hums a note of agreement as he lays back on the long lounge chair and lets his body relax, watching his array of baby Water-types run and play in the sun while he, himself was shaded and protected. The sun out, Ash at his side, and no threat of war or danger lurking over the horizon-- yet.
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Was this what perfection was?
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Ash draws his attention to the trio of his Pokemon playing volleyball, and Kepler laughs. “Yeah. I was worried at first they’d hurt Euie but she seems to be enjoying it, too.” If the happy noises and waggling of her forehead nodes were any indications.
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Callirhoe and Jupiter swim over to the Krabby and Goomy where they submerge beneath the waves, the turtles curious as to what they’re getting up to.

[attr="class","mitpoke"]

[attr="class","mittag"]

Ashley Shepard

[attr="class","mitmain"]

Callirhoe takes the bottle and squints at it, at the message inside of it. She turns it over in her stubby arms, confused. She looks at Jupes, who looks back, shrugs, and swims off, chasing Titan through the surf.
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The Wartortle, now invested in this mystery, needs answers. She clambers back up the beach, twisting and turning the bottle in her hands as she struggles to puzzle it out.
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Kepler hears Ash make a noise and his head lolls back, lazy, eyes brightening under dark sunglasses.
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“You okay, babe?”
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Callirhoe stomps up and holds the bottle out with an offended ’tortle, because she can’t figure it the fuck out.
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Kepler squints at the object, now, in what would be a grand impression of his Wartortle, should the two of them have seen each other.
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“Whatcha got there, Cal?”

[attr="class","mitpoke"]

[attr="class","mittag"]

Ashley Shepard

[attr="class","mitmain"]
Kepler takes the bottle, seawater wet, from his Wartortle, who hops up on the lounge chair next to him, now invested in this particular problem. “Huh. A message in a bottle. I didn’t think these actually existed…”
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His fingers wrap around the cork, grunting a little as he finally jerks it free with a pop. Shaking the bottle produces the small, folded tube of paper within, and then he sets the glass gently in the sand next to him and unrolls the paper.
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He squints behind his sunglasses.
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“Did you write this?” he asks, pinging the familiar handwriting immediately, holding the paper out as though Ash needs to see it. “Is this… a scavenger hunt?” He’s not mad. That seems kinda fun-- one of those things that, on your own or with anyone else, would be annoying, but with Ash everything was great.
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He turns back to the paper. “A parasol, obviously.” And he reaches out to brush fingers against the umbrella pole next to him, looking up at the span of it above them. He trails up and up and up the thing, until his fingers brush something loose and he looks up.
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“Did you set all this up?” he asks, snatching the note and pulling it into his lap to read.

[attr="class","mitpoke"]

[attr="class","mittag"]

Ashley Shepard

[attr="class","mitmain"]
Kepler is not falling for Ash’s ‘all-too-innocent’ charade whatsoever. There just so happens to be a message in a bottle washed up on the beach on the same day that Ashley suggests they go to the beach, and also this beach umbrella has a note taped to it?
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“I’m a scientist, Ashley Shepard. I don’t believe in coincidences.”
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The numbers are so meager as to be irrefutable. But still, Kepler is smiling; he’s game to play along. It seems fun.
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He squints down at the gibberish on the paper, tongue slightly peeking out between his lips as he tries really hard to focus and figure out what the fuck it means. But he has no goddamn idea, and Ash’s offer of a walk breaks his train of thought.
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“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure.” He folds the first message up and tucks it safely in their beach bag, holding the smaller, nonsense-strewn paper close to his chest. “Mister ‘how-could-I.”
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Kepler’s grin has grown even larger as he takes Ash’s hand, brushing his thumb across his boyfriend’s palm as he stands and comes around the edge of their beach chairs. He presses a kiss to Ash’s forehead.
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“I don’t know what you have planned, but I’m down. Let’s go.”

[attr="class","mitpoke"]

[attr="class","mittag"]

Ashley Shepard

[attr="class","mitmain"]
Ash makes a face that is a horrible attempt at continuing the lie-- as though Kepler would at all be fooled that Ash is 100% innocent of anything that’s happened so far-- but he takes Kepler’s hand.
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“Yeah, Halloween.” The Halloween he’d pushed way from the computer desk, put on a lab coat, picked up his phone, and decided to stop being a Fucking Loser and go on a goddamn date. “It’s-- like nine months, yeah. Almost a year, technically.” Technically in the same way that Pluto was technically a planet, in that it was closer to being one that it wasn’t.
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Anyway, nine months was rather short in the normal span of courtship, Kepler thought, but Hoenn also had a lot more near-death sort-of-apocalypses than your normal place had. That sort of skewed people’s view on time. For example, Kepler’d only been in hoenn a little over a year, but he already felt like he’d aged 10, so by that metric he and Ash had been together about eight and a half years.
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“You? I was terrified.” For any number of reasons, from his general social ineptitude, to having recently been kidnapped, and just about every anxiety causing situation one could imagine scattered between. A venerable daisy-chain of worries. “I’d never even had friends before and you were--,” sitting there, with Kepler awkwardly in his lap, offering to-- everything. Offering everything.
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Caesar cipher. Kepler’s brain zooms in on that. He holds the little slip of paper up close to his face, focusing. Seven letters. He’s so engrossed he almost doesn’t hear Ash speak and it’s the usage of his full name that gets him looking up. “Huh?”
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A cavern of stone stretched above them, the layers of rock a rainbow telling the tale of the earth. Water cascades down the far lip, mist streaming off in rainbow waves. Bubbles float through the air, iridescent; and there are suddenly rose petals scattered across the pebbles beneath their feet.
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Kepler swallows, heartrate loud in his ears.

“Y-yes.” He holds one hand out, shaking slightly, suddenly nervous.

[attr="class","mitpoke"]

[attr="class","mittag"]

Ashley Shepard

[attr="class","mitmain"]
It just goes to show that Kepler’s life is such a grievous collection of comedic errors that I don’t want to die a virgin has turned into this. A random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. And this beautiful, wonderful, magical, infinitely fuckable, perfect man.
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His pulse is thundering in his ears and he thinks his soul leaves his body, which, considering he’s seen it happen before, should be fairly terrifying. The roar of it mixes in with the roar of the waves and the magic that Ash’s team is pulling off around them.
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Kepler’s heart does funny things in his chest and it isn’t, for a change, his cardiac condition.
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“...oh, my god.” His hand turns into a claw and he grabs Ash’s arm and pulls, chest to chest, arms coming to wrap around Ash’s neck and pulls their mouths together.
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“Yes, yes, yes, a thousand-million times yes.”

[attr="class","mitpoke"]