{ @terrortwerp - Happy Birthday you scruffy fucker. }
It had taken a ridiculously long time to plan this, in retrospect - it’d better damn well go over nothing less then swimmingly.
Considering the amount of time off and plain cash he’d had to bribe Tracey with in total, he prayed to Arceus that this would work out and Ash wouldn’t find it stupid or lame-- ugh, was that his age showing in that out-dated slang? Already, Professor Gary Oak wanted to find his bottle of scotch and take a few swigs.
Birthdays were never his forte.
It was hard to enjoy them when, growing up, he’d watched his grandfather participate more in his neighbors’ birthdays than Gary’s. He rarely did more than buy someone a card and scrawl his name in it; on the off-chance he did deign to get the lucky so-and-so a gift, he was incredibly bad at picking out things that weren’t generic. A Heal set for one of his former cheerleaders, a couple new canvases for Tracey, an honest-to-Arceus tie for his grandfather once. Really, Gary was talented in a vast amount of things...but celebrating birthdays wasn’t one of them. Hence why he was getting his panties in a twist over this particular one.
Most of the time, he looked on the relationship between his lab assistant and his crush love interest walking wet-dream f r i e n d with benefits with disdain and even disgust at points. Heathens, the pair of them. If the pair was together, then it was guaranteed to smell like weed, booze, and two men who were old enough to know better. Still, they were close friends and Gary fully had intended to make use of that by squeezing information from Tracey until satisfied. It meant his workload would be tripled in the next couple weeks, but ultimately it was--
...hopefully...
...maybe...
...going to be worth it.
The sound of the front door opening and the two aforementioned friends stumbling in down the hall shakes Gary from his anxious thoughts. “Maaaaan...you’re fucked UP.” Tracey drawls out, snickering, “Hey-- go visit the tightwad for a few minutes while I grab your shit. I bet if you annoy him enough, he’ll give you some birthday money to fuck off.” Why in the hell did he continue to keep this asshole employed, again…?
His pushing-his-employment-status assistant thumped up the stairs, and once Gary calculated that he was in his room the professor put some last minute thought into straightening his clothes - now or never, then. “Shit talking me in my own house already? Next you’ll be doing it right in front of me.” He called out, exiting his kitchen. Damn. The dark-haired man standing by the stairs has no business looking so attractive all the fucking time. Focus, you horny asshole. Grinning, Gary leans against the doorway between the hall and the kitchen - he holds up a cold bottle, covered in condensation. “Got time for a beer with me, Ash? Heard from a little Pidgey it was your birthday. Be a shame if I had to drink all this liquor I bought for you by myself, huh?”
