Grooming Benji was a holdover from his early days with the family, back when he was just a young buneary. It was a necessity back then, but after his evolution, he grew meticulous and began taking care of it himself; still, we continued to brush him once a week, assisting him with anything he couldn't manage with his less dexterous paws. It was more of a bonding thing, really. Each of us took turns pampering the family's pokemon, reminding him how much we appreciated his help around the house and with my father's orchards.

It'd been some time since I'd last groomed him myself. The same way he'd grown unattached and distant, he'd also started to avoid me when it was my turn to help, instead seeking out my parents or one of my siblings and somehow convincing them to brush him out of turn. I felt somewhat miffed by it: snubbed by my own pokemon! But as long as my family continued to cater to his requests, there was nothing I could do about it, and I definitely didn't want to try coercing him. It was just a chore. I didn't want to ruin what friendship might remain between us over something silly like that.

But there was no escaping it this weekend. With my parents out of town and my little sisters staying at our aunt's, there was only one person left to take on the responsibility.

My hand slid down his velvety fur and hooked into the golden curls that ran halfway up his ear. Gently, carefully, I pried apart the minor tangles and knots, fingers running trenches through the silken fur before being followed up by a tauros-hair brush, smoothing over the paths I'd dug and making quick work of anything I'd missed.

Benji sat perfectly still on my bed, his forepaws folded daintily in his lap while his short hind legs dangled over the edge. He'd been surprisingly well-behaved; I'd expected him to put up a fuss when I confronted him with the brush, but he'd merely looked resigned and plodded off to take his position in my room.

His compliance felt unusual--but hey, I wasn't going to look a gift ponyta in the mouth. The buneary that'd once been my best friend must still be in there somewhere. This could be my only chance to discover what I'd done wrong.

I combed my fingers through the fur on his left ear one more time--making certain I'd really gotten everything--before moving over to his right. I was cross-legged on my covers, and as I shifted to get a better angle I noticed that his eyes were closed, and he seemed to be breathing very rapidly: his chest rose and fell like he'd spent all afternoon chasing sentrets and aipoms out of the berry plants.

I was instantly self-conscious. Was he anxious? Did I bother him that much? The brush went limp in my hand. Benji seemed to notice something was wrong; his ears twitched slightly, but he didn't open his eyes or speak up. It'd have to be me.

"Benji..." I stopped, unsure of how to continue. The pause deepened, and after a moment he turned his head to the side and regarded me with one large, expressive mahogany eye.

"Lop?"

"Benji, I--uh, I'm sorry." The words began tumbling from my mouth heedlessly. I just wanted to say anything--everything--I could to come to some kind of understanding. "I know I'm not the best trainer. Dad helped you evolve. And I haven't been paying enough attention to you, and I think I might have hurt you in some way. I'm sorry. I don't know what I did, but I'm really sorry. I want us to be friends again, but even if that's impossible, I at least want things to be right between us, an--"

He'd been watching attentively up to that point, and even the quickening of his breath couldn't have warned me of what would happen next.

Small paws suddenly grabbed my wrists, forcing them above my head as the full weight of an adult male lopunny pressed me against the bed. He'd spun so quickly that I'd had no time to react: now I stared upwards at the calm, gentle features of my childhood pet as he held me down and kneeled over my prone body. My lips had parted in a small gasp of shock, and he took that as an open invitation. His face lowered, and for a moment I felt his hot breath against my cheek before his mouth found its way over and locked against mine.

I couldn't move. I couldn't think. My mind went utterly blank when my pokemon pushed his tongue between my lips and groped around until it touched against my own. A faint, eager whimper escaped him as he explored my mouth, and soon after parting he planted a softer kiss beneath my ear and slowly began making his way down my neck.

"W--what..."

Benji withdrew his head at the sound of my voice and gave me a curious look. I saw it in his eyes: that loving, gentle buneary I'd befriended all those years ago. The same buneary who'd slept in my bed countless nights, both of us cuddling against the other for warmth during winter or spread out across the sheets during summer, taking comfort in each others' quiet company while we baked in the stagnant mid-August air. The same buneary I'd shared desserts with (even when I shouldn't) and stowed away in my tote when my parents refused to bring him to the beach with us.

But now that buneary was a lopunny, and beneath his familiar expression was something I didn't notice until now; something I hadn't been able to piece together before he'd shoved me back and laid himself atop me. I'd been wrong: he hadn't been avoiding me because he hated me. He still loved me.

But now it was a different kind of love.

When I didn't continue, he leaned in again, locking me into another hungry kiss. I was still too overwhelmed by my sudden realization to protest, but when I felt something hard and hot press against my stomach I snapped to my senses and began to wriggle angrily beneath him.

It's easy to forget that even the smallest pokemon can be many times stronger than a human; I couldn't shove him off, but it wasn't long before he noticed I was no longer passively lying there. He leaned back again, regarding me with those wide, mahogany eyes, clouded now with desire. His hips had begun to jerk, humping his still growing dick against the waist of my shorts. But my mouth was free. That was all I needed.

"Get off. Get OFF! W-what the fuck, Benji?!" I punctuated my anger by jerking my wrists, feebly attempting to throw him off. It obviously didn't work, but my berating seemed to cut through the haze of lust.

He looked perplexed for a moment. His grinding stopped, and with a cautious, watchful expression, he gently inquired, "Lopunny...?"

"No," I spat. He flinched back. For a moment, I regretted how venomously I'd spoken. Then I remembered whose cock was wedged between us. "Damnit! Damnit, B-Benji, get the fuck off me. I don't--I'm not going to fuck you! Arceus!"

After some hesitation, he released my arms and crawled backwards across the bedspread. I immediately swung my legs from under him and over the side of the mattress. Standing, I glanced back at my pokemon. His erection, bright pink and almost human, was receding into his fur, and beneath that I noticed two round, fuzzy testicles. Normally they were invisible, pulled tight against his body and hidden, but now they were large and swollen in anticipation of the load they were to deliver. My stomach churned; I looked away.

He'd really been going to do it. My pokemon--my friend, my Benji--had tried to mate with me.

My heart pounded high in my throat while my head buzzed blankly. I could have stood there forever if that musical voice hadn't piped in again.

"Lop-lopun..." He sounded apologetic. I wasn't in the mood.

"No," I repeated, my back turned to him. "No. Arceus. That was wrong. That was... You can't do that, Benji. That's fucked up, and I--I don't want to have sex with a pokemon! And you're--you're my friend, Benji, how c-could you try to..."

I couldn't finish. Every time I thought I might be able to deal with it, the realization of what had almost happened returned at full force. My throat tightened, and with a strained whimper I spun around, grabbed his narrow shoulders, and began pushing him off my bed and toward the door.

"Out. Now."

He didn't resist or protest. I slammed the door shut behind him and leaned against it, pressing my face against the cool wood grain. Outside, I could hear the lopunny's faint footsteps retreating deep into the house.

With a quiet moan, I slid down until my butt hit the floor and sat there until the light outside darkened. I sat, and I stared. Eventually the shadows began to blend, and the dried pre-cum on my shorts became indistinguishable from everything else.