Prompt Post: ROUND SEVEN
ROUND SEVEN IS CLOSED
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<< ROUND SIX | ALL ROUNDS | ROUND EIGHT >>
Rules post.
Posting Guidelines.
Flat view.
Updates Post (WIPs only)
Fills Post (completed Fills only)
damalur's firstclasskink on Delicious.
Volunteers always welcome.
There is a delay on comments appearing when there is a URL in the message body. This is due to an LJ anti-spam ( Read more... )
Not that he tells him so right away. First, he makes Alex buy him breakfast at a diner just outside Brattleboro. Then he makes him wait until he’s finished with his eggs and toast and is on his third cup of coffee. When he starts to feel the caffeine working its magic, that’s when he says with a casual shrug, “It’s nice, I guess. Getting out of Westchester for a while.”
Alex looks up from his stack of blueberry pancakes and grins. There’s a spot of maple syrup at the corner of his lips, and Armando’s fingers twitch instinctively, but he resists the urge to reach across the table and wipe it away. They’re getting enough looks as it is from the wait staff and some of the other customers. Not threatening, just mildly curious. Armando raises his eyebrows, and they quickly become very interested in their food and their newspapers.
Alex, engrossed once more in his breakfast and in the AAA map that he has spread out in front of him, doesn’t appear to notice. Armando’s glad. In Alex’s mind, they’re having an adventure, the kind that guys their age are supposed to have. No government agents to evade, no Nazi-orchestrated nuclear wars to avert. Not at the moment, anyhow. There are other dangers that have nothing to do with being mutants, but those too are far from Alex’s thoughts, and Armando wants to keep it that way.
He does steal one of his pancakes, though. “Just testing your reflexes,” he says when Alex sticks his tongue out.
For that, he gets his ankles kicked.
Back on the highway, Armando wraps his arms around Alex’s chest and keeps them there. Now that he’s fully awake, he feels sort of protective and, yeah, a little possessive. Armando’s always been a physical guy, and he likes keeping Alex close. He doesn’t often get to touch him like this outside of Charles Xavier’s mansion, and when he does, it’s usually because they’re about to do something highly dangerous.
Armando can feel Alex’s heartbeats and the warmth of his skin, even through their jackets and tee shirts. He can feel the vibrations of Alex’s diaphragm as he sings to himself. The motorcycle’s engine rips his words apart, but it has to be some Johnny Cash number. Armando grins. Alex is kind of predictable, but in a good way.
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