FAN FIC: X-Men; the singing trout, vol 1 (rogue/pyro)
TITLE: THE SINGING TROUT, VOL 1
FANDOM: X-Men (pre-X2)
SERIES: NONE
STATUS: 1/2
---
RATING: Pretty PG (for now). Just some language.
WARNINGS: none that I know of
PAIRING: Rogue/Pyro, implied Rogue/Bobby
SUMMARY: How such a smart and calm grown man can be so easily turned into a creature resembling more like a horny teenager never stops amazing her. The power of alcohol, clearly.
---
PROMPT: #010 writer's choice, originally written for 50scenes
PROMPT TABLE: HERE
A/N: I've never ever attempted to write anything like this (read: funny or humorous) because really, I feel at home only when it's dark or angst or, you know, smuttish. This is totally new to me so be gentle, 'kay? And just so you know, I wouldn't even be attempting this, either, if it wasn't for spfizz and her little wacky prompt ( here). So, yes, really, blame her (especially for the singing trout, I had nothing to do with it)! I'm the victim here; the innocent person trying to finish her prompt table, that's all. Seriously speaking, though, even if I don't manage to "make you laugh boisterously until you fall off your chair" I hope I still made you smile a little... since holy fucking hell, I tried my best without trying too much *huffs*
--- For those who are still patiently waiting for my UNVEILED update... it's taking forever and I'm so so so sorry. I simply haven't been inspired to write it and I don't want to update that story with an update that I'm not content with. It deserves more than that, so... consider this to be my attempt to kick my writer's block's ass!
DISCLAIMER: Not mine and you know it.
Hey, check out this new comm called fanoncouples, you know you want to ;D
THE SINGING TROUT, VOL 1
She's been at the school for gifted youngsters for a few months now, sharing a house and a home with a bunch of kids just like her and for the first time since it (the damned day she never talks about, ever) happened, she's starting to feel like a normal teenager again instead of a freak of nature - instead of a failure.
Mostly her days follow a simple routine she's learned to appreciate, even love. The kind formed by the school's timetable, filled with normal things like lunch hours with her friends and breaks spent joking around with Kitty or beating Bobby in thumbwar or messing around or doing something as simple as mocking Johnny. Hell, that never gets old.
But as much as Rogue loves that boring routine, as Kitty usually puts it, she's also noticed that in a school full of both mutants and teenagers with raging hormones, the routine tends to be disturbed from time to time.
This time it isn't because of the students though and no one's getting detention.
Except that, you know, Scott just might, Rogue concludes silently, politely trying to hide the smile twisting her lips behind her closed fist. Really, it's like watching Lorelai Gilmore making a fool out of herself in Gilmore Girls, only worse, because through it all you know you can't push a button and fast-forward the scene to oblivion. Also because you know, for a fact, that no matter what you choose to do next, you simply cannot save the other from the inevitable humiliation. So you don't do anything.
Then again, she's a student and he's a teacher and just because he's saved her life once or twice, it doesn't mean it's suddenly her turn to return the favor. She sighs.
How such a smart and calm grown man can be so easily turned into a creature resembling more like a horny teenager never stops amazing her. The power of alcohol, clearly.
The whole school population, including Bobby, had been all weird and tense for two weeks in a row and Rogue hadn't understood why. The only explanation they'd given was well, dude, the carnivale! and yet no one had bothered to explain her what it, the so called carnivale, really was about.
Now she knows the reason behind the tension and all that extra work the teachers had laid upon their shoulders. It was the Carnivale Feast... though why and what for such party is held she still doesn't know and hasn't bothered to ask either because it's not like knowing that would change anything one way or another. She figures the whole event is meant to cheer the students up. God knows most of them are in need of such thing.
So, what it basically means is a party and what it gives is a reason to party wild, apparently. At least that's the impression Scott gives while running around the place all friendly... and by attacking (or was that more like harassing, hmm?) Jean every time she gets under his radar. Scott, of course, is all smile and loudly rolling laughter, but Jean not so much. Rogue can totally understand why.
She would actually pity her teacher a little, at least she would if it wasn't Jean Grey, the lucky bastard in possession of Logan's heart. Not that his heart would be any concern of hers, naturally, but he is her friend and everything.
Anyways, she thinks to herself, wondering where on Earth Bobby ran off to earlier and like that, efficiently ending the unpleasant train of thought before it has a chance to spread its wings.
Back to the reality, once again. The yard looks nice to her, with all the colorful flowers and dozens of small round tables and plastic chairs and lights and people (she still can't spot Bobby, though) and God, the volume of noise that would normally make one's neighbors call the cops or at least, throw stuff over the fence.
It's a good thing they don't have any neighbors and-
"Jesus Christ," a hoarse voice mutters suddenly, drawing Rogue's attention to her left. She turns her gaze quickly enough to see his head fall against the table with a loud, meaningful thud and then, "kill me now," the boy pleads, voice coming out somewhat muffled due the table against his face.
"It's always the same fucking thing," he tells, "always."
She gives her companion an amused look and a weak smile and though this time there's no need to hide it, she does so anyway.
He likes that about her, somehow.
"What?" She questions then, fist still against her lips and her voice trembling with masked laughter, "what's always the same?"
John Allerdyce snorts, straightening his back again and nods towards Scott Summers and his not-so-happy girlfriend.
"That," he snarls, obviously annoyed instead of amused, "it's the same fucking thing every fucking time, I swear. The man just can't hold his liquor."
"It's not so bad," she tries with a shrug, but the pointed look he gives her makes it perfectly clear she's missing some essential piece of info. "That," he tells her, staid, "is 'cause you haven't seen the rest yet."
She doesn't say anything, just watches how he grabs the glass in front of him and then, making sure no teacher sober enough is catching his act, offers it to her. Not that anyone would know what he's added to the juice just by looking at it, but still.
"Trust me," he sighs, "you'll need it."
"Not likely," she chuckles, but takes the glass anyways.
An hour later, she has indeed seen and heard the rest... she's also emptied the glass and asked if he could fetch another. He did, of course.
Now she's gaping, mouth hanging open simply because (just like John knew he would, at some point), Scott has started singing. No one can make out the words, probably not even Scott, and no one's attempting to put an end to it, either. For a moment John contemplates on starting a one kick-ass fire just to shut him up. The tablecloths ain't that pretty anyways so it'd be a multiple-favor to the humankind to begin with.
And fuck, why the hell has no one (else) felt it necessary to remind the man he's supposed to be a grown-up here and set an example for the students, huh? Not like John would really give a shit about that, of course, but a reminder of some kind could very well end this pain.
"Woah," Rogue says then, stunned because this is not the Scott she knows, "that's just... insane."
There's something else in her voice and he thinks it could be a slight flavor of disappointment, alongside with a hint of absolute confusion and surprise.
Either way, he couldn't agree more. In fact, "You remember that youtube video I showed you last week?" He asks then, finally something like a smile making an appearance on his lips.
The first thing Rogue registers when casting a quick glance to her side, is the smile. Not the words nor the tone of his voice, but the smile because John isn't one to smile that often (smirks do not count) and so whenever he does, it always manages to touch her somehow.
"Roguey?"
The nickname draws her attention back to the memory she's supposed to search and then, "The one with the singing trout?" she prompts, turning to look at him again, confused, "yeah, why?"
He snickers, flashes his trademark smirk and then with a quirk of an eyebrow, he says, "well, I'm having a goddamn déjà vu here, you know?"
The funny thing is that she actually does. It makes her throw her head back a little and laugh, genuinely, and he's sort of glad she's for once laughing with him, not at him the way it usually is.
The singing stops suddenly and so does her laughter. The crowd seems to notice the unexpected change too and for a moment, it's a lot quieter than it was a second ago as everyone is more or less focusing on Scott. Both John and Rogue throw a glance at the teacher's direction too, only to realize the big bad Cyclops has fallen on his ass on the dance floor, clearly in denial as well as about to pass out. Jean's there by his side, pulling him up from the floor, quite possibly muttering a wide range of curses beneath her breath and telling him to grow up.
"Well, thank God," he grunts, relieved it's finally over, at least for now. "There's no way in hell they'll let him continue. Grey always drags him to bed around this time anyways."
She's surprisingly happy to hear that.
****
Two hours later, Rogue is tipsy and John's noticed...