Chapter Text
Champagne bubbles rose in Nate Blackwell’s glass, catching the club lights like sparks. The beat of the music thrummed against his skin, almost as strong as the constant undercurrent of attention. Nate was used to being watched. He was, after all, the hottest movie star in the world his face on billboards, his smile splashed across magazine covers, his name always on the tip of everyone’s tongue. Tonight, he let it all wash over him, letting fame wrap around him like a second, glittering skin.
The VIP section felt more like a stage than a lounge, with velvet ropes, mirrored walls, and the low burn of envy from those who could only glimpse him through the haze. He was perfectly at ease, the star at the center of a swirling constellation every gesture, every laugh carefully polished but looking effortless. The sequined collar of his jacket glimmered blue and gold beneath the lights, catching every eye in the room.
A new figure slid beside him, almost melting from the crowd. Tall, dark eyes, a hint of sharp teeth beneath a shadowy smile. “Hey, Blackwell,” the guy purred, voice pitched for Nate’s ear alone. “You look even better up close than you do on the big screen.”
Nate let a slow, knowing smile curl his lips, his gaze settling on the stranger. He recognized the look hungry, dazzled, brazen enough to push past velvet ropes and bodyguards for a shot at something legendary. “Flattery,” Nate replied, his voice honey-sweet, “is only half as fun as a good introduction.”
The man’s grin widened, eyes glinting with a dare. “Name’s not important tonight. What matters is what I can offer someone like you a night to remember.” He brushed a finger along the rim of Nate’s glass, slow and intimate. “You live for a good time, right? Pokestars golden boy, always chasing the next thrill.”
Nate laughed, the sound bubbling up bright and easy. He was used to people projecting their fantasies onto him fans, critics, paparazzi, strangers in dim clubs. He wore the role like another costume, the persona of the world’s most desirable movie star fitting him like a second skin. “You wouldn’t believe the stories if I told you,” he teased, meeting the man’s gaze head-on.
The stranger leaned closer, the world fading to a hush around them. From the shadows, he slipped a small foil packet into Nate’s hand. “Why not add another story to the collection? The kind you don’t put in the tabloids.”
Nate’s smile sharpened, eyes bright as camera flashes. He slipped the packet into his pocket, never missing a beat. “Dangerous,” he said softly, almost to himself, but his outward glow never dimmed. He lived for this edge and allure, temptation and secrecy, all wrapped up in the fantasy of Nate Blackwell, superstar.
“Let’s see how unforgettable tonight gets,” Nate said, clinking his glass against the stranger’s, every movement sparkling with practiced ease. All the world was a stage, and he was its brightest light.
Nate’s laughter sparkled, and he leaned in conspiratorially, letting his fingers trail along the stranger’s wrist. “You know,” he whispered, lips barely brushing the man’s ear, “I’ve got a little private suite here tonight. For when the real party starts.”
He flashed a perfect, wicked grin one he’d used in three blockbuster films and a dozen ad campaigns then slipped his hand into the stranger’s, guiding him off the main floor. The crowd parted around them, recognizing him instantly, some snapping discreet photos, some just staring. Nate barely noticed. He was used to the weight of a hundred eyes.
They wove through a labyrinth of velvet curtains and mirrored corridors, Nate’s pulse dancing in his throat. He glanced down at his phone, fingers flicking deftly across the screen, tapping out a message with a practiced quickness unreadable to anyone but him.
He slid the phone away as they reached the door: a black lacquered panel with a discreet golden 7 on the handle. “Exclusive access,” Nate breathed, turning to the man with a movie-star wink.
The drug pusher licked his lips, anticipation flickering in his gaze. Nate pressed a finger to the man’s chest, stopping him just outside the threshold. “Wait here,” he murmured, stepping close, close enough that his breath mingled with the man’s.
Nate tipped up on his toes and pressed a quick, soft kiss to the stranger’s cheek a signature move, heart-stopping and sweet. The man blinked, dazed, as Nate’s lips ghosted past his ear.
“Big surprise waiting for you in there,” Nate whispered, his tone all silk and mischief. “Trust me you’ll never forget it.”
Nate flashed another dazzling smile, stepping back with a practiced sway. He tapped the man’s chest with two fingers. “Go on inside. I’ll be right behind you I just need to hit the bathroom real quick. Don’t peek at the surprise till I get there, yeah?” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial hush, eyes sparkling.
The man grinned, anticipation lighting his face, and nodded eagerly. He watched as Nate winked, then turned, striding down the hallway toward the restroom, vanishing into the crowd. Left alone with his racing heart and the glint of gold on the door, the pusher smoothed his hair and slipped into Suite 7.
The room was dim and silent, plush shadows stretching over velvet benches and mirrors. He started to call out “Nate?” but the words barely left his lips before the door thudded shut behind him.
From the darkness, a figure emerged, posture stiff and gaze hard as ice: Lack-Two, in a sharply tailored suit almost as sharp as his glare.
“Hands where I can see them,” Lack-Two commanded, voice cold and clinical.
The man’s confusion turned to panic, but he had no time to react. A sleek Dewott slid out from behind a sofa, scalchop flashing, water slicing through the air. In a heartbeat, the Pokémon was on him swiftly gagging him, pinning him with a precise, practiced grip.
Cuffs clamped around his wrists, and he was forced to his knees, the world tilting. Lack-Two knelt close, eyes merciless. “You have the right to remain silent,” he said softly, unblinking. “I suggest you use it.” Dewott gave a curt, professional nod, satisfaction glimmering in his dark eyes.
Out in the corridor, club security ushered the dazed drug pusher away in cuffs, his protests muffled. Nate trailed after them, playing the role of shocked bystander to perfectionmeyes wide, lips parted, clutching his chest. He even let out a dramatic gasp for effect, drawing sympathetic looks from nearby staff.
“I can’t believe something like this would happen here,” Nate exclaimed, as if this were the first criminal he’d ever seen in his charmed life. “It’s just awful, utterly awful!”
Lack-Two appeared by his side, as silent and sharp as a shadow. He fixated at Nate with a cool, expectant look. “Do you have the contraband?”
Nate fished the small foil packet from his pocket, pinched between two manicured fingers as if it were a used tissue. “Obviously, I don‘t do drugs, it’s just awful for your skin to take stuff like this.” He wrinkled his nose in genuine distaste as he handed it over.
Lack-Two rolled his eyes, lips twitching as he secured the evidence. “Thank you for your expert medical opinion,” he deadpanned.
Nate leaned in, lowering his voice to a secretive stage whisper. “Can we go home now? I’ve had enough of this undercover nonsense. The shoes they gave me are murder.”
Lack-Two didn’t miss a beat, crossing his arms. “There are still more criminals evading justice tonight, Nate. You know how it is.”
Nate huffed, tilting his head. “If we start arresting every shady dealer in one night, it’ll be too obvious. They’ll get suspicious and they won‘t deal with me anymore. I’m the face, remember? Gotta keep up appearances.”
Lack-Two paused, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. After a moment, he gave a single, reluctant nod. “Fine. We’ll wait. For now.”
Nate’s mouth dropped open in mock astonishment, then lit up with a sunshine grin. “Did I just win an argument? You’re actually listening to me?”
Lack-Two rolled his eyes again, but a tiny smirk threatened his stoic mask. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
But Nate was already basking in victory, arm linked through his brother’s, bright as ever as they slipped back into the swirling lights and music one twin the world’s brightest star, the other its silent shadow, both vanishing into the night.