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It was about to happen. Three months of planning, obsession, secrecy, and unbelievably hard work was about to come together into one glorious moment of triumph.

At least, he hoped.

Kyle laid in his bed, trying to get himself to sleep, though the sleep wasn't coming easy. His mind was racing too much, unable to break away from the coming day's prospects. After wrapping up so much time into this, perhaps this wasn't surprising...still, he wanted to sleep well so he'd be well-rested for the big day.

It was to be the first day of his junior year in high school. Something most students dreaded, or at least grudgingly accepted - and given his past year, one could hardly have blamed him for feeling the same way. His first year in the high school had had more than its share of stresses and frustrations, and the majority of them were other students. Kyle, being an Abra, was a prototypical brainiac type - excelled in all facets of his education, breezing past his classes and going well above and beyond, one of a group of friends who were in the upper scholastic tiers. And of course, they were the targets of bullies, and almost invariably the were the jockish types that prided themselves on physique and appearance and wasted little time harassing those who didn't fit.

There were a number of them, and all of the psychic brains had dealt with each of them at some point. But Kyle's case was a little different, in that one of the bullies seemed to be especially intent on making him as miserable as possible. Armand, a Machop with an apparently typical macho attitude...Kyle had no clue why, but from day one Armand had spent an especially large amount of time giving him shit, much more than he ever gave the others in his group of friends. Pushing him around in the hallways, tripping him in the cafeteria, plenty of nasty comments day after day...he'd tried to ignore it, tried to just pass it off, but Armand never relented, never passed up a chance to belittle him. Gym class was the worst, with Armand frequently talking shit about him using his psychic abilities to help him pass strength and conditioning tests...the school recognized that the psychics were stellar students but not physically gifted, and they were allowed to do so on account of making up for that deficit, but it got them a fair amount of negativity. The coach was no help, frequently making snide comments about them and being extra hard on them otherwise, making it all the easier for Armand and the other bullies to make gym a hellish experience.

Of course, being high school, there was plenty of jabs at his sexual prowess and equipment as well. This bugged him in a different way...sure, he was a virgin, though more because he'd never tried to make a move than anything else, and though he had no direct comparison he was pretty sure he was packing at least as much as Armand was. But they way they made degrading comments about physically weaker males and females...it was a good way to raise his hackles, which they knew and which made them dwell on it more and more. They would frequently talk about their supposed conquests around him, in loud voices, nattering on about the amount of pussy they'd scored every night...or ass, as it was, since Armand was as completely gay as they came, and not shy about it. That also irritated Kyle on another level - gay himself, he found Armand to be rather physically attractive, and it had him wishing that that body could house a soul less completely abhorrent. The number of times Armand had threatened to throw him on the ground and plunge into him...he never would, because he knew Kyle would blast him with all the psychic energy he had, the Abra having plenty of defense even without the muscle of the Machop. But just the taunting, the degradation...it had worn deeply on him over the course of the semester, and by the end, he very much wanted revenge.

It wasn't going to happen by using his natural talents - Armand seemed particularly resistant to embarrassment by those methods. He recalled a time that another Psychic student had mind-pantsed the Machop during lunch, exposing everything to hundreds of students; rather than anger or embarrassment, he'd simply donned a cocky grin, showed himself off, and boasted about how he was so irresistible that some wimpy nerd couldn't wait to see what he had to offer. It was as successful a deflection as anyone could have hoped to achieve, and for a few weeks he and other psychics had gotten rude taunts from many more students, though most of them hadn't even been in the room when it happened.

No, Armand thought so little of the brainy side that he didn't even care what their minds could do, he had his strength and that was his pride, and as long as he could boast about that, he was untouchable. But that was his vulnerability, and as school let out, Kyle had put together a plan to hit Armand where it really hurt.

It was an extreme, perhaps even dangerous regimen dedicated to building his body and becoming as strong or stronger than the Machop. Daily workouts at the gym, comprehensive workouts aimed at muscle-building that could span hours as he pushed every part of his body to the limit and beyond. He refused to aid himself with his mind, donning the collar he had to block his psychic energies during every workout...though it was meant more for preventing cheating on tests, he put it through its paces every day an the gym. He only got help from one of the gym staff, acting as a spotter during his workouts, a Scrafty who seemed utterly bewildered by his obsession but didn't ask questions.

The same couldn't be said of his parents, who saw the change in his behavior and inquired about it frequently. There was no way to hide it from them; as part of his regimen, he'd changed his diet considerably, and the questions about why he was asking for things he didn't like or normally want was only the most obvious part of his change. He did his best to placate them without revealing his plan for revenge, blocking any psychic projections which might have betrayed them. Though they expressed concern more than a few times, he was relieved that they didn't press the issue; perhaps they just chalked it up to the whims of his teenage years, and since he kept up with his advanced studies otherwise they seemed to let it go.

Now it was the night before school resumed...the night before he would see Armand for the first time in months. It wasn't lost on him that he'd been almost as focused and obsessed about Armand as the Machop had been with him, but he hoped that by doing this he could close that chapter in his life, and be the better for it. He'd chosen clothes that would hide the build on his frame the best, so as to not give himself away to Armand too early, but it was going to be a bit dicey anyway, as he looked little like he had before. Though on the taller side, he'd always been slight, barely any muscle definition in his frame, but now he had considerably more mass and tone, arms and legs and a chest that stood proudly out with power, a physique that had to rival most of the Fighting-types in the school that had such pride in their appearances. His development had been astonishing even to him, getting him from lifting the paltriest of masses to well over his own body weight; there was no question that now he could have tossed Armand over his head if it was just a matter of lifting him.

Even then, there was no guarantee that he would have a complete victory...Armand was strong, and could very well still be stronger than he was. But if he managed to even put a little bit of disconcert onto that blue face, it would be something...and if he could stand toe-to-toe with the bully, without the aid of his mind, then perhaps it would be enough to get Armand to leave him alone. And that was the thought he focused on as he finally managed to pass into slumber.

---

The first day of school ended up being on the cooler side, which suited Kyle just fine; though he had his gym clothes on underneath, he'd wanted to wear much more covering garments, a heavy hooded sweater and sweatpants, to keep the surprise from being sprung before he could use it to smack Armand in the balls, figuratively or literally. Even if the weather had been hot and sunny he would have done it, but he knew that it would have been ridiculously uncomfortable and probably a bit suspicious; as it was, they ended up being perfect.

He didn't even make it into the school itself before his tormentor had a lock on him. "Hey, pissant! Ready to be my bitch all over again this year?"

Kyle suppressed a desire to lash out right then and there; all the memories of the previous year were flooding back at the sound of that voice, but he willed them down as he turned to glare at Armand, who was feeding him a cocky smirk right back. "Aw, is baby still sore? Be a good little beta and I'll give you something to suck on."

His eye twitched a bit, but he kept his cool. "Are you done?"

"I'm just getting started, pissant. This'll be the year I get you where you belong, moaning on the end of my cock like puny nerdlings like you should be. Hope you lubed up because I'll go in whether you did or not." This was a bit more overtly sexual taunting than the last year, and Kyle wondered if it was the Machop's ego or hormones that had gotten out of whack...or maybe he hadn't gotten laid during the summer, and was pent up.

The ring of the bell stopped him from any attempt to respond further, and Armand strode by, attempting to bump into him. He pulled back in time, and the Machop simply passed by. "See you in gym, pissant...be ready to cry."

Right...we'll see who's crying, Kyle thought with a dark glower. At the very least, Armand seemed to not have noticed any difference in him; perhaps old expectations had blinded him, and he was hoping he could hold on to that illusion until he wanted to drop it himself.

---

As it turned out, his shot at revenge was going to be delayed until the day's end. Gym was his final period, so he had to get through his typical routine. Not that it was much trouble for him; being the first day of classes, everything started off light, even by regular standards. Thus far, no one had approached him about his appearance, though there were definitely some looks, as if they knew something was off but weren't quite sure what. Kyle wondered if the very idea of a buff, muscular Abra was so out there that even those who thought that was it couldn't accept it as true.

And of course, there was plenty of catching up with his old group of friends, along with numerous apologies about how little he'd gotten together with them; he'd let none of them in on his plans or practices, for fear that they would spill the beans, and gave them a story about working on a secret project for someone whose identity he couldn't reveal. None of them bought it, of course, but they didn't push the matter; the way he said it was clear enough that they knew something was up and they would find out soon. He hoped they'd find it worth it.

Then, just before last period, one of his teachers had gotten him into a conversation about the school's physics club, which he had been an active part of all the previous year and was aiming to be in leadership of this time around. By the time they'd been able to tear themselves away, he was well late for gym, and he ended up walking into the weight room ten minutes after the bell, still not undressed.

"You made it, then?" Kyle took a deep breath as he looked at Coach Karker, a burly Ursaring whose disposition had, in his experience, left something to be desired. Much as he was prepared for Armand, he still was uneasy facing this challenge; he hated being on bad terms with a teacher, and Karker's history with him and the other psychics left little room for rapport.

"Sorry, Coach...Mr. Kaylan kept me."

He expected some kind of biting retort or insult, something about him not caring about his commitments or thinking he could walk around like he owned the place...what he didn't expect was for Karker to simply nod and reply evenly, "It happens. Just get yourself changed and catch up, it's standard weights today."

It took a moment for it to register; the coach's relative kindness had thrown him completely. "Er...yeah, okay, thanks. Sorry."

"Hey, pissant!" Kyle couldn't keep himself from looking over at the call. Armand was sitting at the bench press, flanked by two other students who were notorious bullies, a Pignite named Regis and a Sawk named Hallan. Neither one of them had any more favor towards Kyle, but Armand was the only one who called him 'pissant.' "Take a good long look at this stud's power!"

Armand laid back on the bench press and grabbed the bar, pumping the weight up and down once with little apparent effort. Not surprising to Kyle, as by his estimate the load was 200 pounds, something he'd seen Armand do easily the previous year; it was clearly just a taunt directed at him rather than a real show of strength. As the Machop sat back up, he flashed Kyle a rude gesture. "Let's see your stringy arms do that, wuss!"

"...Okay."

Kyle sloughed off his backpack and dropped it next to the wall. The three bullies were exchanging odd looks as he strode over to the bench press, making sure to scratch under his psychic block collar with a bit of show. He wondered if Karker was going to stop this - a student getting hurt on his watch wouldn't be a good thing, regardless of his feelings - but the coach just watched him as he took a seat, his expression undefinable, yet somehow Kyle got the feeling that he suspected something was up. A couple of other Psychic students, looking visibly stressed out, were also staring, and that emboldened him...maybe he could at least show them that he could watch out for them.

He laid down at the bench, gripping the bar tightly, the feeling now very familiar...and oddly welcome. He'd thought the summer of preparation would be the end of it, but being on the bench had started to feel more relaxing, more alluring, and his mind danced with temptation to keep it up. He pushed that thought away for the moment, focusing on his task. With relative ease, he hefted the bar, drew it down to his chest, and then pushed it back up, setting it back with a feeling of success. Even if there was more to it, it felt good to have shown up Armand at least once.

He got back to his feet and turned to face the three fighting-types, all of whom were staring bug-eyed at him. "There. Happy?"

Armand was the first to snap to his senses, and he leveled a vicious glare at the Abra. "No way. You fucking cheated."

"Cheated? You see the collar."

"Bullshit! It's a fake collar! Coach, this liar's wearing a fake collar, and he's trying to tell us he's not!"

"It's a real collar, Armand. It's the same one he wore all last year...even got the scratch from last winter." Kyle could scarcely believe he was hearing support from Karker, of all people. The Ursaring had been as much of a bully as anyone to him and other psychics...he certainly wasn't going to complain about the better treatment, though.

His gambit seemingly having collapsed, Armand then turned to the other bullies. "You two, grab a quarter each and get it on there." Regis and Hallan both scrambled to comply, still seeming jarred by what they'd witnessed. Shortly, the metal rings were slid onto the bar, and Armand wasted no time hitting the mat and grabbing the bar like it owed him money. With noticeable but still fairly minimal strain, he did his rep and then stomped up, looking daggers at Kyle, practically daring him to try that on.

But Kyle was ready. He'd had more than enough of Armand, and he was going to take the Machop to task as much as his body would allow. Wordlessly, he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, tossing it to the ground and revealing the sleeveless white gym shirt underneath. He heard a voice shout out "Holy shit!" as he dropped his sweatpants, leaving himself in his gym shorts. His body now on full display, he looked back up, feeling a sense of satisfaction as Armand stared slack-jawed at him...and he wasn't the only one, in fact pretty much the entire class was looking his direction now. Both pride and self-consciousness started to well up in him, and he beat them both down as he took his spot on the bench.

250 was significantly more than 200, and he felt prickles of anxiety as he took hold of the bar, hoping he wasn't going to choke now and suddenly falter. But he had done this before, and with effort, he was able to draw the bar down and push it back up, resetting it and finding it not much more difficult than he had practiced. He was no sooner off the bench then he heard Armand demanding another 50, though his voice contained considerably less anger and more shock and desperation. It was on now: Armand was desperate to show him up, find some way to maintain his pride and superiority. Even if he did, though, Kyle knew he had made an impact already; the Machop was shaken to his core.

Now the bar was up to 300. He'd seen Armand lift this the previous year, and it had been his initial goal going into his training; to get that high up he knew Armand was taking this seriously. The Machop was sweating as he laid down, a white-knuckled grip on the bar as he pushed it up off it's mount. He took it down very slowly, grunting deeply as he did, and then pushed even more slowly and loudly, arms seeming to bulge a bit as he raised it up, up, and finally to the peak. He saw Armand panting as the bar was set back down; the Machop wasn't too far from his own limits, and Kyle wanted to at least see them pushed.

He took his place and took the bar in hand. Again that prickle of nervousness, again he had to fight it down, and he did so by focusing everything on his body. The weight was considerable, and he felt the burning strain in his arms as he took it up. He brought it down slow, jaw clenched as he felt the tension release briefly, and as it touched his chest, he pushed, slow but hard, feeling the bar fight against him but slowly lose, until finally his arms straightened, and he felt another triumphant burst inside him.

As he raised himself up he could see and hear chatter from the other students. The other psychics in the class seemed to be beside themselves with glee, the other fighting-types in utter shock and awe. Armand just looked baffled, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing, he couldn't comprehend it. Kyle resisted the urge to taunt; he dearly wanted to, to poke more holes in that block of confidence that Armand had, but that was inviting trouble, and he wanted to make sure he came away the bigger man, regardless of the other outcomes.

Ten more were added to each end of the bar. Armand once again said nothing as he laid down, getting a good grip. He seemed much less certain of himself now, yet he didn't hesitate, putting the bar under his own power and drawing it down, a bit too quickly for safety, yet he caught it before he hurt himself. Kyle could see his jaw tighten, his body almost swell as he nearly yelled, pushing with all his might against the force of the weight, inching up very slowly...

It looked like he might lose it at a couple moments, but the Machop found his success, getting the bar to its apex and then rapidly replacing it, giving it a louder clang on the mount. Kyle swallowed hard; he'd barely managed to get this towards the end of his training, and he wasn't sure whether he could summon it on command...but he was going to try, he wasn't going to back down from the challenge, either he would overcome it or it would overcome him.

The first lift was almost torturous, the Abra finding even getting it off the mount to be a pressure he could barely handle. His teeth grit hard as he slowly, agonizingly brought it down, not willing to make the same mistake Armand had, but it put a strain on him and when it reached his chest, he was truly doubting if he could complete his task. With a strained inhale, he gave it his all anyway, and despite initially being stymied, a few seconds saw breakthrough, a couple inches of height, then a couple more, and thens steady progress, the ache of the effort being rewarded by the thrill of victory, as he brought the bar fully up and managed to replace it.

It took a moment for him to sit back up after that one, but he had a slight grin on his face, and for once it was less at Armand's expense and more at his own accomplishment. What he had done was no mean feat, he knew that for sure, and there was a certain exhilaration at managing to pull it off. Still, as he stood up and rubbed his aching arms, he hadn't fully forgotten about the Machop, and clearly it was mutual. With a trembling voice, Armand said quietly, "Another 20."

Kyle tensed a bit; 340 was just more than he had ever managed in training, and if Armand was calling for it he had to be confident he could make it. His accomplishments had great personal importance, but he found himself really wanting to have competitive success here, to prove that he wasn't weak and that he couldn't be pushed around. Armand was doing everything he could to keep that from happening, at least to a tiny degree...but he was also putting himself on the line.

He took several seconds to get his grip, and then strained with all his might, lifting the bar just off of its mount and letting it back down, trying to go slow but barely keeping it under his own control. Kyle watched intently as Armand let out a cry, arms buckling as he tried with every effort to get the bar to its designated loft. Sweat was pouring down the Machop's body as he gave everything he could, the bar rising agonizingly slowly, wavering as it rose, inch by crawling inch...

And then, about halfway, it stopped, and retreated. Armand let out a pained gasp as he finally faltered, two students grabbing the bar before it crashed back down and with considerable effort putting it back on its mount. Armand stood, briefly, then stumbled, caught by Hallan and kept upright, looking thoroughly exhausted, not looking at anyone, not even Kyle.

He could have stopped right then and there. He'd proven already that he was Armand's equal, and he was certain that that alone would have been enough in the eyes of the other students. But, looking at the bar, looking at the anxious eyes of the students around him...he couldn't leave without at least trying. As much for himself as for the victory.

He laid himself down on the bench, his own sweat mingling with Armand's, tension high as he put his grip on the bar, then drew it back as he felt it slip. Above him, someone wiped it down, then wiped his hands, getting a nod from him in thanks. His second attempt went right, the bar solid in his hands, and he took a couple deep breaths to ready himself. As much as he could, anyway...

The first push upwards was agony, his arms screeching in protest, even as he managed to get that little bit of lift needed to get the bar off its mount. He pulled it down, a little too quickly like Armand, but he couldn't really help it, it was so much...he gained control over the bar, just enough before it reached his chest and then a little more as it partly rested. Two students were poised around him, ready to grab it if he were to suffer the same fate as Armand...at this point he felt it was likely.

Then, he steeled himself and pushed. He felt his arms shake, pain and weakness racing through them, doing everything they could to hold him back. He let out a long, intense growl as he forced everything he had into that one push, hearing the clatter of the rings from the shaking bar as it crept higher, moving it the slowest of slow motion. His inhales came extremely short and sharp and his exhales protracted, his head starting to spin as the air became a little too short, arms shaking even more madly as the rise stopped, then started, then stopped again, and then made a little more headway...

And then, to his own disbelief, it shot up, his elbows locking up straight and carrying that last bit out on their own. He was in a bit of a fog as he brought them back over the mount, the bar hitting rather loudly as his arms finally gave out under the strain, but it didn't matter at that point, he had done it. He had beaten his own best, he had beaten Armand. His head continued to spin as he was pulled up, excited clamor from the students around him passing more or less unsnared through his ears, helping him to a chair and giving him water...he only got one glance at Armand, who was staring glassy-eyed at the bench, statuesque, expressing nothing less that the purest incomprehension at what had just transpired.

---

High schools spread two things with little resistance, disease and gossip. So it was little surprise that by the time he'd arrived the next day, Kyle was swarmed by students eager to get a piece of him, the Psychic that had out-muscled a Fighting-type. And this time they were able to get all the eyefuls they wanted - the weather had warmed considerably, and Kyle didn't need the element of surprise anymore, so he'd gone to much more revealing clothes. A bit more revealing than intended, with a shirt that had shrunk a bit more in the wash than he'd expected, but with all the eyes on him he decided that it was probably even more enticing.

He did his best to retain at least some tone of modesty, though it was hard with the amount of attention and praise. Even harder with his friends, who were completely beside themselves over the victory and the transformation, reveling in anything that got one over on their tormentors. Of course they'd quickly put the pieces together and knew exactly why he had been so absent over the summer, but after what had transpired there was no question that they'd forgiven the secrecy - it was more than worth it to see the gobsmacked bullies.

Most of whom still seemed that way, in fact. They were certainly absent from the throngs, but he'd encountered a few in the hallways and they seemed to shy away from him, always with the expression of disbelief, and maybe a touch of guilt. It was definitely preferable to their previous behavior, though Kyle wondered how long it would stay that way. Still, any reprieve was a good one in his eyes. The only time they seemed to approach was in the second day's gym class, where the simple weights continued with different modules, and he was without question the star of the show. Through the clean-and-jerk, leg lifts, squats, and more, he showed what he'd achieved over the summer, and even those Fighting-types were clearly in awe, despite the fact that he wasn't even outdoing all of them. Just the fact that he'd managed to get on their level seemed to be enough. He kept more to his familiar heights this time, though, as there wasn't any competition this time around - in fact, Armand was nowhere to be seen, which was rather a surprise and not entirely unpleasant.

That wasn't to last, though. After classes had ended, Kyle was leaving the building and walking across the grounds surrounded by other students, when an unmistakable voice rang out from nearby.

"HEY, PISSANT!"

The crowd parted in the direction of the yeller, and Kyle turned to see a familiar blue face approaching. And clearly Armand was pissed off beyond belief. "What do you want, Armand?" he said coolly, not wanting to stir Armand up more than necessary but also not having the patience to put up with him.

"Don't 'what do you want' me, you fucker! You cheated yesterday, admit it before I punch your face in!"

"That's what you're going with? Let it go, Armand, everyone saw the collar."

"No! You fucking cheated somehow, I don't know how, but you did! No way a fucking brain can outdo me, especially not your pansy ass! I'm not gonna be made to look like a fucking fool by some faker who just wants attention! You admit it now or you're gonna pay!"

Armand's anger was building, and Kyle was starting to get concerned, not just for himself but the students around him; the Machop wasn't known for grace or restraint, and he didn't want a fight to break out where others could get hurt. "Armand, seriously, come on. Ask any of your friends who were actually in class today, I showed them the same thing. I've worked hard to get like this, there was no cheating involved."

"Bullshit! That's just an illusion! You're not really strong, you're just faking it!"

"It's not a-" Kyle had no time to finish as Armand took a swing for his face. He'd been prepared for it, and reacted rapidly, using his natural quickness to duck under it and grab Armand bodily. It was enough to push him back a bit, getting him away from the other students, as his anger had already created a wide berth behind him. When Armand shoved him off, he swung again, and this time Kyle intercepted the swing, grabbing Armand's arm and then jerking him forward, throwing him off balance. It was the moment he needed to act, and he did it without much thought, grabbing Armand's shirt, using the grip on the shirt and arm to heave him into the air over his head, twisting him around, and throwing him down on the grass in front of him. The Machop landed hard, the wind knocked out of him, and he was utterly stunned by both the blow and the turnabout.

Panting hard, less from exertion than adrenaline, Kyle glared down over the face of his defeated foe. "You're not gonna fucking push me around anymore, Armand. I don't want to fight you but if you push me I will, again and again until you stop. And don't think you can just go pick on someone else instead, because I'm not just gonna sit around and let you make anyone else's life hell, either. Get that through your thick skull and leave me alone."

He didn't want for any response from Armand, instead turning away and rejoining the crowd of students, which seemed to have grown significantly larger. As they surrounded him and flooded him with accolades over his performance, he kept a bit of his mind occupied with making sure they weren't being snuck up on...but Armand wasn't giving chase, he was still sitting on the ground. Kyle hoped that that would be lesson enough for him...

---

As the early days of the school year passed, things definitely became different from the previous year. Kyle's new body and takedown of Armand seemed to have set off a chain reaction which even he couldn't have foreseen. Though the initial spate of excess attention faded naturally as more things occupied people's time and energy, Kyle still found himself more frequently approached by students he didn't know and more often stared at in the hallways. It had been a bit disconcerting to first, but he found himself rapidly adjusting to it - it was rather nice to be noticed in a good way, for once.

He had expected that perhaps the bullies wouldn't be so eager to push him around anymore, and he was right about that. What he hadn't expected was that they would approach him and ask him to hang out with them, or make other overtures of ostensible friendship towards him. Even Regis and Hallan, who he knew to be pretty close to Armand, were amiable towards him now, no longer treating him like something beneath them. Kyle wasn't sure how much of this was genuine and how much was because they were now intimidated by him, and hoping to avoid the same kind of public beatdown that Armand had suffered. Still, he wanted to move on from the hostility, and made every effort to be courteous. Over time, he found himself more at ease with them, and even found himself getting some advice on his workout routine.

This wasn't at the expense of his Psychic-type friends, of course. They very much enjoyed having him around, and were wholly supportive of his efforts to stay in top shape. It didn't take long to see why; their torment had vanished almost as quickly as Kyle's. The students that had given them so much hell didn't want to get on Kyle's bad side, which also meant leaving his friends alone. Kyle could see that they were all noticeably happier and less stressed without the lingering threats over their heads, and their happiness and contentment were a real sign to him that everything he had gone through was completely worth it.

Perhaps the biggest surprise came at the end of the first week, when Coach Karker had asked him to try out for the wrestling team. Kyle had never even considered joining a sport in the school, even as he was building himself up over the summer, and he had initially hesitated at the thought of adding that to a rather full plate. Yet, as he had mulled it over during the weekend, he realized that he didn't really want to lose out on all the hard work he had done over the summer; even though his original goal had been realized, his mind refused to let him not think ahead, and he was coming to feel more at home with his strength. Joining the wrestling team, he rationalized, would be a good way to force him to maintain his fitness and give him something else to throw himself into.

Of course, Kyle had never even seen a wrestling match before, much less participated in one. While he now had the strength, he didn't know how to use it for this purpose, which meant he needed a full-on tutorial. He found himself feeling silly at the outset, being trained in simple techniques that most who were going for the team had probably known for a long time. However, his own natural skill set gave him an edge there - he was a fast learner, and found himself making rapid progress under the tutelage of Coach Karker and the help of some of the others on the team. Only one month after starting, he felt more like he was able to hold his own, and with actual team activities not beginning until the winter, he felt confident that he'd at least have a decent chance to make the team.

The only drawback with his new wrestling gig was that it put him into more contact with Armand. The Machop had been the one truly bizarre point in all of this. Kyle had expected Armand to avoid him after his two major defeats, leave him be or at least sulk from afar, but if anything he had become more aggressive. He frequently tried to challenge Kyle to fights, and in some cases hadn't bothered with a warning that a challenge was coming. A couple near-miss attempts at sucker punches had gotten Kyle to be more careful about taking off his blocker collar in the hallways and outside, so that he could always be aware of when Armand might come around and try to catch him off-guard. The Machop never came out ahead when Kyle was ready for him - he'd gotten blows in, but Kyle had the speed edge on him, not to mention a clearer head, and inevitably Armand would end up on his back, groaning, with Kyle walking away.

It still bothered Kyle that Armand hadn't eased up against him. He didn't care if the Machop was never okay with him, but at the very least he wanted to be left alone, and move that last bit past the stress of the previous year. Armand's insistence on not letting that happen rankled him, and he had dabbled with the thought of taking the matter above them, to someone who had more power to do something more drastic. Yet, he held off, thinking that Armand could do nothing to him that he couldn't manage. His form and what had followed it had given him a burgeoning confidence in himself, the notion that he could manage whatever came his way on his own.

Until the incident that shook that newfound confidence like a Magnitude 10.

It was in the locker room after practice, most everyone had already left and only he and Armand were still around. He'd just come off his best day of practice yet, where he'd taken down Armand in a shaky but definite victory. Kyle still hadn't gotten many pins, and he wanted to enjoy his success, even if Armand wasn't the typical opponent they'd try to match him up against. That was tough when the bitter Machop was trying his best to piss him off.

"You were lucky. You barely even know what you're doing out there."

"I'm learning. Maybe you should focus on getting better yourself." Kyle was loathe to respond to the taunts, he didn't want to encourage Armand, but if Armand was going to be a teammate he would have to learn to deal with him civilly. Still, he felt irritation bubbling under the surface; the Machop's attitude towards him was getting tiresome.

"I do just fine. I was a key player on the team last year. You're just a waste of time, no one's gonna want a brain on the team." The charge was lacking the cockiness of his attacks on Kyle of the previous year, less bravado and considerably more venom.

"I think they won't care if they see I can keep up with their 'key players.'"

"You're only kidding yourself. You brains don't belong on the mat, unless you're sucking us off." Kyle felt his eye twitch; for some reason whenever Armand pulled out the sex card it bit at him. Especially since he seemed to be a lot less on the playful side about it. "Or taking us up the ass like a good beta should. Doesn't matter what you're built like, you don't fit as a top, only as a bitch."

Kyle bit back what he wanted to say, trying to keep himself together. "Warning you, Armand, shut your damn trap."

"See? Can't even act like you're not a beta. We get you on the mat and you'll be moaning like a slut, taking it like you were meant to. Probably how your mother got it, beating off real men before settling with a pussy like-"

It happened in an instant. Kyle's hand grabbed Armand by the throat and slammed him into the lockers so hard that the doors on two of them bowed in, his other fist raised and glowing blue, a look of pure malice on the Abra's face. "One more word about my parents, you piece of shit, one more word! I'll cave your skull in like-"

And then he stopped. He eyes were boring into Armand's, and though the Machop was doing his best to hide it, Kyle could see clearly the terror hidden in them. A terror he was all too familiar with...one he'd seen in so many of his friends' eyes after they were pushed around, threatened, attacked. Something that might have been in his own last year...

He let go of Armand, who slumped to the ground, still stunned by the blow. Without a word, Kyle gathered up his things and left, his mind too focused on what might have happened to him.

---

The next day, following the end of school, found him in Coach Karker's office. The day had been uneventful - even Armand had stayed away, which was a good thing considering how preoccupied he had been. All the questions swirling in his head were feeding him doubts, concerns about what was really happening to him...this was the last person he thought he would be confiding to, given the past, but the coach had picked up on it before he could even say anything, and for some reason Kyle felt like this was who he needed to talk to.

As he sat in front of the coach's desk, the Ursaring looking at him with an even expression, waiting for him to speak, he still found it difficult to put into words. "I'm just...I'm wondering if I should really be...doing this. The whole wrestling thing, keeping with this exercise thing...I dunno if it's...good for me."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"Well, it's...when people change in one way, it changes them in other ways, too. Nothing just happens without affecting everything about a person...or, well, not always everything, but some other things, at least..." Kyle swallowed and shook his head. "I'm just...worried, I guess, that getting strong like this, trying to challenge the people who bullied me...maybe...made me into a bully myself."

Coach Karker's expression didn't change. "Go on."

Unsteadily, Kyle went into the confrontation with Armand the previous day, what the Machop had said and what he had done in response. He shivered a bit at the recollection of that expression in Armand's eyes. "It was like looking at my friends last year after some of their worst bullying experiences...and I just...if I'd been just a little bit more angry, I could've really hurt him. And it got me wondering if...well, maybe I've been pushing him around myself. I haven't...it's not like I was intending to, but...well, what if that's what happened? What if I started bullying him to get back at him for last year? That's not who I want to be...I just wanted to not be pushed around, not to be pushing around myself...if that's all that happens, I don't want to be like this..."

The coach finally held up a hand. "Can I offer my input?"

Kyle took a deep breath and swallowed again, nodding silently, a bit scared for what he might hear.

"You're not a bully, Kyle. To be honest, I saw what happened yesterday between you and Armand. What I saw was someone responding a bit too strongly to a personal attack...which, let's face it, isn't uncommon in the slightest. And after all that Armand's put you through, both last year and this year, I could hardly blame you for it. But no, bullying isn't about that. A bully doesn't need provocation. They seek out their targets, and it's not the target's fault that they get picked. You've done anything but seek a target...in fact, you ARE the target, still."

"Sir?"

"Armand's still trying to bully you. The only difference is that he can't do it so effectively anymore, because you can turn it around on him. That fear you saw...it wasn't the fear of a target of bullying, but a bully who's just realized he went too far. That he might have really screwed up and done something that he would regret. Even when they're picking on an easier target, that can happen...maybe not with such immediacy, but people have a way of picking up on that sort of thing when faced with it. Sometimes because that's their own line."

Kyle was silent as Coach Karker gazed out the office window. "Bullies, Kyle...at their core, they act the way they do because of their own insecurities. I know this because I was a...am a bully. A recovering one, maybe, but still not out of there yet. I think you know it...you were one of my own victims last year, as were most of your friends. I treated you harshly, denigrated you, and made it easy for others to do the same. And you were far from the first...I've been doing the same to students for years, mainly the Psychic-type students. Because I felt like they were getting a free ride, that they didn't have to do the hard work others had to do, that they were given special treatment because they were the pride of the school. I felt slighted...I considered them slackers, thought that the students who were more physically gifted...more like myself...deserved the commendations more. At the end of last year I was censured for it...the school told me I was on thin ice, that I would be out of a job if I didn't shape up. And I was pissed off about it, thought I was getting a bum rap because I went harder on some privileged slackers."

"Last year, I had a student who I went particularly hard on. I gave him all sorts of abuse, because I thought he didn't care, that he wasn't putting in effort because everything was being handed to him on a silver platter. So I piled it on him especially, and I felt really satisfied that I was putting him in his place. Middle of February, he stops showing up. I figure he's skipping because he couldn't handle having his illusions shattered. Once or twice over the next few months, I heard he wasn't showing up altogether, but I never thought anything of it."

Coach Karker took a sip of his coffee. "End of June, I was talking to another teacher about it...that's when I heard that the student had tried to kill himself."

Kyle's eyes went wide. "Wh-what?"

"That was why he'd stopped showing up. He'd written a note and downed a bunch of pills...someone found him just in time to save his life, but he was a mess afterwards. Never occurred to me, not ever once, that he might not have been putting in effort because he was depressed, that his life was spiraling downward with failed schoolwork and family disasters, and bullying by students and teachers alike adding on to that. They told me some of the things in the note...some of the lines were almost word-for-word things I had said to him. They'd hit him so hard that he was ready to end his life over it. And I never saw any of it, because I was too wrapped up in my own insecurities to realize what I was doing."

Kyle sat numbly, at a loss for what to say. Now it made sense...Karker's complete change of attitude when he'd arrived that first day...he'd already been shaken to his core, more than Kyle ever could have done to Armand.

"Guess you could call that the wake-up call. Parents put their kids in my hands, expect me to be a responsible adult, and all I was doing was acting childish and petty. And it ain't easy to suppress that...it's something I have to work at, every day. But at least I woke up...it's not anyone's fault the way they're made, some people are better with their bodies and some with their minds. And sometimes you have to adjust for those traits. Looking back on it, the students I was such a monster to, they weren't slacking off, they were just doing what they could, and the school wasn't letting them off easy, they were giving them a way to participate at a more equal level. Really, if they weren't putting their all in, it was more because I made them hate the class enough that they stopped caring."

"So I'm trying to come to grips with that. Trying to move on from those insecurities...course, it's never just that simple, they've been ingrained for years and they don't wanna go quietly...but they were this close to putting a death on my hands, and that's something I can't ever forget. I dunno what he's doing now...he's not in this school anymore. Never did go to talk to him...didn't have the courage to, and I doubt he'd ever want to see my face again. But I can't let myself do that again. I can't be a bully, not when I'm being trusted with kids. So I'm trying to run a tighter ship, be more fair...and I'm trying to use what I know to help students out. It's only the least I can do, yet...but I guess we all start somewhere."

The Ursaring looked back over at Kyle. "Sorry...I guess we got a little bit afar from where you were."

"It's fine...I just...don't know how to respond, really..."

"Don't blame ya...it's not easy. But yeah...you're a good kid, Kyle. I put you through a lot of shit last year, and so did a lot of other kids...but I see you hanging around with them on occasion, you're not being nasty or unpleasant to them...and you're not trying to take out anything on other kids who're weaker than you. You're not acting anything like a bully would. Armand, he is, but he's fixated on a bad target."

"Thanks...but, I still could've hurt him badly..."

Karker nodded. "That you could've. You're an odd case, Kyle...you buffed up as fast as anyone I've ever seen in my life, it must've been a hell of a lot of work. Now you got all this strength, but you don't really know what it means or what it does to you or what to do with it. I'm guessing you really didn't think much about what you were gonna do after you showed Armand up?"

Kyle shook his head. "Not...really, no. I guess I was too caught up in trying to get him to leave me alone..."

"I don't blame you. The idea of revenge feels good...but once you've done it, you're empty, you don't have any direction where to go next. And I wouldn't want you to not be able to find one. Think about it for a while...if you really want to stop, that's your wish and I won't try to fight it. But I'm hoping you'll decide to stick with it. The best way to learn how to use your strength is to use it, and I think this would be a good way for you to learn that control. It'll help keep incidents like that from happening again, without you losing all that you've worked for."

"Yeah...thanks, Coach...I don't think I need time. I do want to stick with it. I...I don't just want to give up, not if I can beat it. And I do want to have a direction...I don't just want it to be about Armand, I want to do it for myself."

Karker smiled down at him. "I'm really glad to hear that. And not just because I think you'll make a stellar wrestler...working with you, I feel like it's even a bit therapeutic, like it helps me overcome my own issues. And I really do see a lot of promise in you...I want you to do well."

Kyle smiled back as he shook the bear's hand. "Thanks, Coach...I want the same thing. I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Kyle, before you go..." Coach Karker stood up with him. "I know it's not going to be easy, but if you have the opportunity, try to talk with Armand. I said earlier, bullies act the way they do because of their insecurities...Armand isn't any different. You don't know this, but he's...kind of been fixated on you since the beginning of last year. I don't mean just when he's been targeting you, but outside of that as well...I've heard plenty of chatter here, and even some of the other guys have ribbed him for talking about you so much, and he always got angry about it."

"R...really?"

"Mm-hmm. I don't know why, he's never said anything clear about that...but whatever reason he's targeting you, it's to cover up something about himself. He's not gonna come clean easy, but this might be the best opening you'll see for a while...he's been shaken, he's going to be hesitant to come after you, and if you press him, you might be able to get him to talk about why he's been on your case. And that might lead to a truce, at least."

Kyle nodded. "Okay...I'll give it a try. Thanks, Coach."

---

It wasn't much longer before Kyle got his chance to grill Armand. The Friday practice that week saw a long and rough training session for quite a few of the prospective team members, each one of them pitted against every other in a test of what they could handle and where they fell short. It had Kyle drinking in a lot of feedback whether he came out on top or not, extra attention paid to him due to his inexperience. He was getting better, for sure, but still knew he needed work. By the time he was finished with everything, most everyone else had left, but as he made his way into the locker room, he could see the Machop standing, head against the lockers, looking stressed out. It hadn't been a good night for him, Kyle had noticed that he'd been unfocused and had performed much worse than was typical of him.

It was actually a good opportunity for Kyle - already out of sorts, Armand mould be easier to ply for information and get to the bottom of the story. He didn't like taking advantage of that, but with him... "What's with you?"

Armand raised his head to glare at him, though he didn't make a move. "Oh, fuck off. Gonna try to punch my face in again?"

"Not if you don't run your mouth like last time." He didn't want to linger on this; getting Armand more hostile wouldn't help things. "Look, I want to talk."

"Why should I talk with you about anything?"

"Because I'm not going anywhere, Armand. I'm going to be on the wrestling team, and whatever happened tonight notwithstanding, I'm pretty sure you're going to be too. And we can't be at each other's throats all the time, or else we're going to mess up the whole team. So we're going to talk, like it or not, and we're going to come away from this at least able to tolerate each other."

Armand turned and leaned back against the lockers instead, arms folded in front of him. "And what if I don't wanna talk?"

"Then we're gonna be here a long time. Because neither of us is going anywhere until we've sorted this out." Kyle wasn't sure how seriously he was going to follow through on that, but wanted to make it sound like he would at least.

"Oh? You're gonna make me stay then?"

"You think I can't?" Armand's look intensified, but he didn't respond, perhaps an unwilling sign of concession. Kyle wasn't even sure himself, after all he and Armand were fairly equal, but perhaps losing to the Abra was getting him wary of him, and he would use every advantage he could. "You came after me almost every day last year. You're been on my ass most days this year, even though you know you can't push me around anymore. As far as I know, I never did anything to you, so why do you keep coming after me?"

"What, I need a reason to push around a fucking brain?"

"You sure as hell do. Because you rarely cared about any of the others. If you just pushed everyone around I'd just assume you were an all-around asshole and leave it at that. But you targeted me specifically. And I've talked to some of the guys, they told me you talked about me even when I wasn't around...what kind of bully does that?"

Armand's eyes shot open wide in shock, and Kyle could also see some fear in there. Clearly he'd struck a nerve, and he'd sort of suspected he would; the other powerhouses had been forthcoming with that information, and that had fueled his suspicions that Armand was bothered by him specifically, though they hadn't been able to provide a reason for it. Only Armand would know that...if even he did, but Kyle was fairly sure of that.

"How could they...what did they fucking tell you?" Armand sounded slightly panicked.

"Just that sometimes you would go on about how much you didn't like me, and that when they poked at you about it you got extremely defensive. They couldn't figure out why you were so obsessed with me...also said you got even pissier about it this year but you still talked as much."

"Those fuckers!" Armand pounded a fist on the lockers. "Can't believe they'd sell me out like that! Why would they even say shit like that?"

"Because, believe it or not, Armand, they're worried about you. They feel like you're getting more distant, that this obsession is becoming stronger, or that something else is going on that's just compounding it. They say they try to talk to you about anything and you're short with them, you don't hang out with them like you used to...hell, they were happy that I asked about it, they think dealing with this issue with me will help." Kyle had to admit he hadn't expected such jockish types to have that kind of sensitivity towards each other; it had been an eye-opener for him, and he'd come away thinking a lot more of them than he used to.

"Can't believe it..."

"It's the truth. Look, just come out with it, and we'll deal with it, right here and now. And then you can get over whatever it is that's bothering you, we can all move on, and maybe we'll be able to be civil at least."

"You don't get it!" Armand burst out suddenly. "Some things can't just be gotten over! Fuck, if it was that easy I'd be over it already!"

"You're right, I don't get it, that's why I'm asking. I'm tired of this, Armand, even if you don't want to deal with it, I do. And I can't do anything if I don't know what's going on."

If looks could kill, Armand would be a murderer right then and there. With a grunt, he mumbled something Kyle couldn't hear. "You gotta speak up a little. What did you say?"

The Machop tensed up and let out what might be described as a whispered yell. "Because I fucking wanted you! Okay?! Jeez!"

"...What?"

"Dammit, you heard me this time! I don't wanna say it again!"

"Wait, no, hold on, that's ridiculous. You were a bastard to me for a goddamn year because you wanted to fuck me?"

"God, you don't get it! If I wanted to just fuck you like hell it would'nt've been a thing! I'd've just gone at your ass and that would've been it! It wasn't about fucking, I just...I wanted you. I wanted you."

Then it sank in to Kyle...though it left him no less confused. He'd never gotten the impression that Armand cared about him in the slightest...quite the opposite, in fact. But there was no way he'd be this cagey if he was putting him on. "But then...why?"

"Because I'm not supposed to want you! You're a damn brain...you were the kind of guy I'm supposed to use, not like! I didn't want to like you, I didn't want guys asking me why I was lusting after a fucking twink rather than getting with one of them! I figured maybe it'd go away if I knocked you around a bit, or maybe I could make myself think of you like I wanted to, and when it didn't work it just made me angrier!"

"So...you spent all of last year tormenting me because you wanted to get rid of your crush on me?"

Armand glared at him again, balling his hands into fists. "Fuck, why d'you have to say it so loud?!"

"We're the only two people around here, Armand. Give it a rest." The Machop didn't stop his look of anger but dropped his hands, suitably chastised. "Why the hell does it even matter? No world's gonna end if you like someone who isn't a muscleman. There's all sorts of people who are physically different getting together in the world."

"But we're just completely different...brains are supposed to get with brains, power with power. My dad always said that those people who mixed it up were wasting seed, they were only gonna dilute what they were supposed to have. The kids ain't gonna get stronger if their genes are part softy."

"So? You're gay anyway."

Armand glowered. "It's...just the principle of the thing!"

"Is that what he told you?" The Machop's expression was so suddenly stricken that he didn't even need to respond. "You had all summer to find someone else who your dad would think better of. Why not?"

"I...I told myself I was gonna...but, fucking hell, I just...couldn't get you out of my mind. I was having all sorts of fantasies about you, almost every damn day...fuck, it was just..it was like they came on like a fucking hurricane after I stopped actually seeing you every day. It was just fucking you at first, and then...it was...I...I actually...I started..." Armand screwed his face up as he tried to spit it out. "I started imagining you fucking me! God, it was so wrong, and I couldn't fucking stop it..."

It certainly didn't sound that wrong to Kyle, but he was starting to get an impression of where Armand was coming from. Clearly the Machop had felt pressure to conform to some standard about who he was attracted to...that must have been the insecurity the coach had been talking about. It was about the last thing he would have suspected, though...which, he realized, was probably Armand's goal all along. He clearly didn't want anyone thinking anything like that.

"And then you come back to school looking fucking awesome, and I'm getting taunted about how it's like my dream come true and I'm pissed off because...well, yeah, it kinda fucking is! And I can't let anyone know that because then I'll get a fucking rap about being into brains but now you can kick my ass so I have to pick between getting myself beaten up or getting everyone on my case!"

"That's not true. You had another option."

"What? No I didn't, what else could I have-" Armand suddenly clammed up as Kyle got right up into his face. This time, it wasn't as aggressive, or at least not violently aggressive; instead of trying to hit him, he just reached out and touched Armand, kneading the muscles under his fingers gently.

"As much of an asshole as you've been, I've always thought you were hot. You know what, I'm not even ashamed to say it, if you had been even just a little less of a pain, I probably would've bent over for you and taken it from you like the bitch you tried to tell me I was. But with your attitude, the last thing I wanted was to give you that...instead, I wanted revenge, and you know what? I fucking got it. And I'm done with it. I want to move on. You've been the only thing keeping that from happening, because you're too scared about admitting you've been attracted to me from day one. But if all I need to do to get past that last step is show you that the world's not going to end if you're into me, then I'm more than happy to indulge your fantasies."

"B...but..."

"Who's gonna bitch about it, Armand? The guys you keep calling brains? They don't give a shit, not as long as I'm giving them a buffer against being bullied. Your buddies are practically falling all over themselves to be nice to me, they're probably just gonna be jealous. Even your bigot dad is gonna take one look at me and decide that my genes can't be all that bad. And after everything you've said, I don't think you're really going to tell me that you don't want that...it'd be a dream come true, wouldn't it?"

Before Armand could formulate a response, Kyle ducked his head down to the Machop's bare chest, and gave him a long, sensual lick, dragging his tongue across his nipple slowly, whatever Armand was trying to say instead coming out as a breathy cry. The taste was unique to Kyle, salty from the sweat on his body and tinged with some flavor that he had to assume was raw male. It was way more appealing than he had expected it to be, and that was reason enough for him to try to get more.

"Fucking hell..." Armand's voice had gone shaky, and Kyle could tell he was liking this too. He brought his head back up, eyes boring into the Machop's.

"Have I convinced you yet?"

Armand could only nod, and Kyle was plenty satisfied with that. One hand went down to Armand's shorts, while the other went to his own. Slowly he dragged them both down, enjoying the appearance of Armand's lengthy pole from it's hidden zone, his own eagerly joining it. As he bent down to strip the garments off entirely, he gave it a sniff and a rub with his nose, getting a gasp out of its owner; the male scent was much stronger here, unsurprisingly, and it sent a shiver down his own spine.

Armand looked down as Kyle straightened himself back up, and his eyes practically bugged out. "Oh, shit..."

Kyle looked down as well and instantly knew. The Machop wasn't small, as he'd already seen...but he had him beat, a good inch in length and modestly but noticeably in girth. His gaze trailed back up to Armand's face, a wide grin appearing on his face. "More than you expected, is it?"

"Guh...it's..."

"Go on. Say it."

"I...when I had my fantasies...this summer, I...kind of...always...imagined it was bigger than mine."

Hearing him say it like that was singularly thrilling. "Glad to be able to indulge you in that...what else did you imagine about it?"

Armand gulped, but not a nervous gulp, rather an excited one. He moved away from the lockers, Kyle joining him as he set himself down on his back in the middle of the locker room floor, not the perfect surface but he was too needy to care now. He spread his legs wide, and Kyle got the invitation, leaning down over him and putting himself in position, his pre-slicked cock eager to bury itself for the first time. He prodded gently at first, testing the waters, and found the hole to be very tight and unyielding...almost as if... "Wait...are you...a virgin?"

Armand shook his head. "No, not by a long shot...but...never taken anything...only given before."

"Huh...well then...you want me work you open a bit first, then? Or-"

"N-no, please...Kyle, I need you so bad...fuck me hard and fast, just like I would've done...I don't care if it hurts."

"Well, if you're sure." He wasn't sure how well Armand would take to actually going through with it, so he got the Machop pinned down tightly on the ground, his powerful arms clamped down on the his shoulders. He then used his legs to make sure Armand's were spread wide, opening him as much as possible. The tip of his cock was just touching the tight ass, giving it the briefest taste of what was to come...then, without further warning, he bucked forward, propelling himself into the Machop, raw strength overcoming all resistance to get to his goal.

Armand was tight, ridiculously tight, especially after he clamped down and especially for the Abra's ample size. When he threw his head back and bit his lip, Kyle wondered if he'd hurt Armand with the jolt, if he should stop and take stock of him, but then he breathed out "More..." and all thought of delays was stripped away. He resumed, taking the pace that Armand had desired, giving him little respite from the rough and vigorous pounding. To be sure, Kyle felt fantastic - the tightness, once slickened a bit with his pre, was so warm and enticing, rubbing every part of his cock with a wonderful tension that unquestionably surpassed anything he'd ever tried with himself, even his psychic simulations couldn't possibly have measured up.

And Armand seemed to be responding well, too. He gripped at Kyle's arms, back arched and body tense, still in discomfort, but continued to urge more out of Kyle, and the Abra was getting all sorts of signals that Armand enjoyed the slight pain, that it was driving him higher than just the penetration alone. His own dick was spurting freely, preseed saturating his abdomen and catching Kyle a bit on the harder jolts that got him flailing a bit. The meat was too enticing to resist, and he soon took one arm off of Armand and wrapped the hand around it, jerking the Machop in time with his thrusts.

"Oh, fuck! Kyle!"

The frantic pace and their inexperience made short work of both of them. After just a few minutes, Armand was the first to go, the inner and outer treatment much more than he could have expected. He yelled out as his seed burst forth, painting both of them as Kyle's hand worked it up and down. In the throes of his climax, he clamped down around Kyle's cock, setting him off as he slammed home and emptied himself into Armand, jaw clenched as he powered through the most intense high he'd ever experienced. His hands clenched onto Armand, as Armand's did to him, as the two rode out the storm together.

The slow descent brought them back to their senses, and as Kyle's eyes met Armand's, he could see the satisfaction fully within them, mixed with touches of regret and guilt. The Machop's emotions were still unsteady, and he worried that maybe they'd gone too far too quickly, that perhaps hormones had driven them farther than Armand was prepared to go. "Armand?"

"That was...wow..." His panting left him somewhat breathless. "You were amazing...shouldn't've waited so long..."

That was a bit of comfort to Kyle, though he was still somewhat uneasy as he pulled himself out of Armand and helped the Machop to his feet. Armand's gait was a little unsteady from the forceful claiming, but he seemed more than willing to tough it out as the two made their way to the showers.

They helped each other clean off, rubbing and stroking each other's bodies, enjoying the contours on each body as they took away the sweat and grime and sex that had gotten onto them through the previous few hours. Once, their faces closed in, and on impulse they both took each other in a kiss, an awkward and unfamiliar gesture for both of them, yet still satisfying in the warmth of their mouths and the linking of their tongues, an unusual but welcome taste the two of them could share in. It too was brief, but meaningful as they pulled away still closer than before.

It wasn't until they were back out of the showers and dressing that Armand finally spoke. "Kyle...I'm sorry about the shit I said to you before. I was...trying to piss you off, I didn't mean it. And I'm sorry that I was such a dick to you for so long-"

Kyle shook his head and waved it off with his hand. "It's okay, Armand. Don't worry about it."

"But...are you sure? I mean...I was pretty fuckin' awful to you...if you were angry I couldn't really blame you-"

"I was angry, Armand. I won't deny that. But...I had my payback. I got what I wanted the first day I got back. And that's enough. I don't want to live feeling vengeful, I don't want to hold grudges that just eat at me...I just want to move on. And I'm fully willing to forgive and forget, just so long as you don't try to remind me." He held out his hand for Armand. "Are you good with that?"

Armand swallowed and nodded, taking hold of Kyle's hand; for the first time, he saw a bit of tearing in the Machop's eyes. "Y-yeah...I swear it, I won't do any of that anymore. Thanks, Kyle..."

The Abra smiled in acknowledgment as they shook on it, feeling that last bit of burden finally lift from his mind. The last of the past was in the past, and while the future had its own challenges, he was much better suited to face them without looking back. Without question, school, and indeed his whole life, was going to be a lot better from now on.