[attr="class","spiral"] fuck. he can't remember anything. the last thing he can recall is challenging nash into a series of shots and then the rest goes black. a blur that displaces him in time and awakens in an instinctive panic. his hands immediately reach for his waist, to secure the pokeballs that should be there but what he's met is with a nakedness covered only by his own bed sheets. only then does he realize where he's at, safe in condo with another body beside him.

rather than arouse the other person, fernando reaches for the nightstand on his end. to his relief, there's a pokeball and he taps the capture mechanism. when nothing happens, he makes the assumption that the pokemon is already out and that alone puts him at ease. time to recount what happened.

his biggest clue is the warm body beside him. his eyes narrow and his assumption fills him with dread. the backside of his quads are feeling slightly sore and he puts one and one together. nash alcott, him, together. what makes it worse is that he doesn't even remember it.

tch.