Pyrokinetic Manipulator - Chapter two
Author: Sj-snugglebug
Title: Pyrokinetic Manipulator
Genre: General/Romance
Rating: PG-13 (At the most, let's keep it here)
Pairings: A bit of 'John/Bobby' at the end. (= I'm getting there. =D
Warnings: I’m not sure ‘slash’ would be a warning here. (=
Disclaimer: Not mine; never was, never will be. )=
Summary: Before he was Pyro, he was John; and before he was John, he was St. John. John was strong, but Pyro was stronger. John would fight, but Pyro would die trying; but John had Bobby, and Pyro didn’t.
~
Chapter: Two
Chapter title: Learning Games
Chapter Summary: The Academy was for teaching, and John would learn. John would learn that there is less to Bobby than he thought there was, and more to him than he’d ever realise.
~
Previous chapter: Chapter one (Yesteryear)
Authors note: Wahoo! It’s done. I’m actually quite happy with the ending of this. I wrote it (oddly) before I wrote anything else. Actually, to think about it, I wrote the entire thing backwards. I wrote the ending first, and the beginning last. I wonder why…
As you have probably noticed, I have no beta. If anyone is willing to beta for me, I’ll be a happy chappie.
I've actually come to realise that these small stories I'm writing about John/Bobby are actually quite pointless. Pointless, as in they're random bit's of their time at Xavier's academy and basically sum up their progressive relationship; and that they have no real point besides that...
I'm seriously considering whether this is worth writing and posting...
Once again, this is the product of my procrastination about my maths exam tomorrow, and my psychology exam on Thursday. As you can clearly see, I’m getting a load work of study done. I am so going to fail.
*goes off to ponder* I mean…study of course… *shifty eyes*
LEARNING GAMES (CHAPTER TWO)
~
John lay on his bed, playing with the Zippo lighter in his hand. It sounded with a click and a fwoosh and a snap. He watched Bobby out of the corner of his eye, and clicked, and fwooshed, and snapped. He could tell by the way the boy was focusing hard on his work, and chewing on his bottom lip that he was trying very hard to not get angry. John grinned.
Click - Fwoosh - Click - Fwoosh - Click - Fwoosh - Snap - Click - Fwoosh - Fwoosh - Fwoosh - Fwooshfwooshfwooshfwooshfwoosh…
Bobby threw down his pen; he turned around in his chair and snapped, “Do you mind!”
John grinned again. “Yes, in fact, I do.”
“Well stop, because I don’t want to have to turn the bedroom in to the north-pole like you made me do last time. I spent all day cleaning up!” Bobby said, before turning back to his homework indignantly.
“I didn’t make you do anything! You tried to ice my bed and overshot!” John retorted, and flicked his lighter again.
“Oh yeah…” Bobby paused, then said, “Yeah, but that’s because you toasted my homework!”
“Freeze my Zippo again, and you’re going to get worse, ice-boy.”
Bobby snorted haughtily.
“I don’t have time for this.” John said, and stood up. “I’ve got a meeting with the Professor.”
Bobby looked back up inquiringly. “Why? You go to see him every Sunday.”
“It’s none of your business.”
~~
John padded down the corridor, and towards Storm’s room. He knocked gently and opened the door.
“Yes, John?”
John folded his arms and glowered. “I want him out of my dorm.”
Storm turned around and smiled. “What, you mean Bobby?” she said. John nodded and continued to glower angrily. “He’s a nice kid.”
“Sure, he’s nice…” ‘….and he is cute too,’ John thought. “But that’s not the point. He’s so annoying!”
“This is actually the first time you’ve asked me, John. Your second roommate came back to the dorm to find his belongings outside.”
“He asked for it.” John snapped. “But I want Ice-boy gone. He’s so irritating!” At the comment, Storm smiled again.
“Why is that, because Bobby can get you back for what you do?” Storm said. When John looked mildly surprised, she giggled. “Don’t think I don’t know what you do, John. Your last roommate had to have run from the room screaming for some reason.”
John scowled and glared at the carpet.
“Are your techniques getting a little rusty?” She chuckled, and John glared again. “I’m sorry John, there’s nothing we can do. We put you two together for a reason; there is nothing I can do about that for now. And anyway, where would you have him stay?”
John snorted. “I don’t care! He’s got plenty of friends; and if not, he can always sleep in the kitchen. He spends enough time there as it is.”
~~
Bobby lay on his bed, reached out, and took John’s lighter from him, examining the silver and shark casing. He lifted it to his nose and gave a small sniff and a tentative lick with the tip of his tongue.
“Tastes like metal.” He mused. John rolled his eyes.
“I wonder why, Einstein. Now, if you’re done making out with my Zippo…”
“Guess who I am!” Bobby called; he opened the lighter with a click and a fwoosh. “Check it out.” He began to play with it.
Click - Fwoosh - Click - Fwoosh - Snap - Click - Fwoosh - “Ouch!”
Bobby gasped and dropped the lighter onto the bed.
“It burnt me!” He looked down at the lit Zippo resting on the sheets. “Oh no! Crap! My sheets!” The fire flickered across the white sheets of Bobby’s bed, dancing and twisting closer and closer to him. John rolled his eyes again.
“Well, don’t just sit there! Put it out!”
Bobby paused. “Oh yeah, I can do that, can’t I.” He reached out to the fire and began to freeze it. There was a loud explosion of ice in the bedroom, and John saw white.
John brushed the last bits of ice from his own bed, and sat down. Bobby sat on his own bed amidst the mounds of ‘shaved ice’ (or what Bobby would have called ‘snow’); the ice mutant lifted a handful of this ‘snow’ to his face and happily buried his nose in it.
“You kind of over did it a bit, didn’t you, ice-boy.” John snorted.
“Check it out, John, I can totally make a snowman now, and it’s not even winter!” Bobby grinned, tossed the ‘snow’ up, and gathered another handful.
John sighed “Don’t’ you ever get tired of being happy?” He snapped, and hopped into bed. Bobby looked at him weirdly.
“That’s like asking don’t you ever just want to be sad?”
“Alright, fine, then I’ll rephrase. Can’t you just stop being so fucking happy all the time?”
Bobby sighed, and John could swear he felt the cold burn of his room-mate’s glare against the back of his head, but it could have easily been the iciness of the room. He rolled over and pulled the quilt around his tighter to push away the coldness. Bobby was sitting with the pile of ice in his hands and a viciously cold death-glare on his face.
“At least I make the effort to be happy.” Bobby snapped. “Someone has to be happy. You know, when I was told I was going to room with you, Storm warned me that you were a little of a recluse. I guess she failed to mention that you’re a compulsive grump.”
John rolled back towards the wall and tried to ignore him.
“But you know, ‘grump’ isn’t the right word. I don’t know the right word, because I know nothing about you.” Bobby continued. “We’ve been room-mates for three months, and I know nothing about you. I don’t’ even know your last name! But then again, nobody but the Professor does, right?”
John said nothing. ‘Persistent little shit, isn’t he?’ He heard Bobby climb off his own bed, and pad softly across to his.
“You know so much about me, but I know almost nothing about you.” He heard Bobby whisper. John rolled over to look at him, and Bobby was staring at the fire-mutant with that knowing innocent smile. “Why is that?” Bobby asked. John paused, and then considered this.
“My name is John and I have the ability to manipulate fire. Anything else you want to know, wonder-boy?”
Bobby laughed and sat on the bed. “How about, where were you born? Where did you grow up? Who are your parents? Do you have brothers and sisters, do you have a dog…”
John snorted and sat up. “Why, planning on writing my memoirs or stalking me?”
Bobby laughed. “No need to stalk, I have you right here in my dorm.”
John sat up, raised and eyebrow, and said ‘Oh really’ with quirked lips and a suggestive look. Bobby just laughed.
“Well, duh. I mean, what would the point be? I would be watching you through my own bedroom window!”
John groaned in annoyance. If anyone could be so oblivious, it was Bobby.
“Okay, so what is your last name?” Bobby asked, sitting comfortable, cross-legged on John’s bed.
“Don’t need one.” John said, and Bobby frowned, lips pursed with that childish look of disappointment on his face.
“Everybody has a surname, John.”
“Never said I didn’t have one; said I didn’t need one.” John sniffed and turned away. “Anyway, I don’t need to tell you. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to try and keep myself warm since I’m living with an abominable snowman.” He reached over to the clock which was flicking ’10:05’ and set the alarm.
“Well?” Bobby asked. John turned around to see him sitting on the bed (still!) with his arms crossed and an odd look on his face. He pulled back slightly, and the odd look continued to stare at him unnervingly. John sighed.
“Allerdyce; it’s John Allerdyce.” He said, and Bobby smiled.
“See, we’re getting somewhere. I am Robert Drake.”
“I knew that.”
~~
John came into the room with a heavy look in his eyes. Pulling his shirt and shoes off, he climbed straight into bed and curled into a foetal position. Bobby frowned worriedly and came over.
“How did it go with the Professor?” he asked, and John didn’t reply he continued with “Bad, huh?”
“He said I was anti-social.”
Bobby smiled at John and laid a hand on his head. “You’re not anti-social. You just don’t like many people, but that’s okay.” John rolled over to look at him.
“No, he’s right. I am.” John paused, and shivered, looking down at the plain white of the sheets. “He says I have to confront my past.” He whispered brokenly. “He doesn’t know, though. He doesn’t know shit.” John let out a ragged breath, and Bobby nodded silently, watching him with concerned and heavy eyes.
“I killed her.” John whispered. “I didn’t mean to, it was supposed to be him.” He pushed away the reflex to cry. It was a reflex because his father always told him so. That crying was for the weak and for the women and that the strong shouldn’t cry. He was strong, and had to be because the strong would prevail, and the strong would live, and the weak would die; he wasn’t weak.
“It wasn’t supposed to be her; it was supposed to be him. She was five. She wasn’t weak. He made me see it again, told me it would help. He told me I wasn’t weak, I had to be strong and only the strong…
“Oh god, I hate him. It was supposed to be him…” And John let out a ragged breath, and continued to stutter in this broken manner, unsure of whom he was talking about; which him he was talking about…
The Ice-mutant leaned down next to him on the single bed. The taller boy was unsure of what to do, so he settled for lying down next to John who was curled in foetal position and facing the wall.
John had never felt so exposed in his life, but Bobby had that kind of effect on people. He made you feel vulnerable in a way you had never felt before; open and exposed with your whole life (the bad and the good) presented right before you for the whole world to see.
The Ice-mutant was naïve; childish at best. He was that eternal happiness, that stupid lop-sided grin that was always on his face. He was everybody’s friend; he was that presence that thought the entire world reeked fucking sunshine, even though the bad was right before him; and he didn’t know things that John knew. But, he knew in a way John didn’t, he understood things that John didn’t understand. He knew in a way nobody else did, and he understood things nobody else understood. He knew, despite the obliviousness; he understood, despite the naivety.
And John finally realised, because the first thing the Professor had asked him when Bobby arrived was ‘How do you like your new room-mate?’ He understood that they weren’t together because their powers counteracted or because Bobby was the only one who could handle his pyromania. They were together because Bobby was the only one who could open up John in such a way that he let out the things he had shut down and repressed years ago.
“Even the Professor thinks I’m emotionally fucked up.” John whispered against his pillow. Bobby laid a hand on his shoulder, and moved closer.
“Even the Professor is wrong at times, John.” Bobby replied. John rolled over and looked at him with raised eyebrows. “It’s human nature.”
“You forget we’re not humans.” John said. “We’re mutants. We’re stronger and better than them. You forget, only the strong will survive; and we’re the strong ones, Bobby.” John watched the frown on Bobby’s face, and wondered what he was thinking. ‘Probably, that I am fucked up.’ He thought to himself.
“It is okay, Johnny.” Bobby simply said, after a while.
“What did you just call me?” John said, letting go of the pillow and straightening himself out on the bed.
“Uh, Johnny…” Bobby hesitated; and John slipped closer to him. Their noses were millimetres apart, and John could feel the cold on Bobby’s skin.
“My name is John.” He said, and there was that look; that look that said sorry, and sad, and smiles, and sunshine, and ice, and I’m here, and you’re alive, and you’re real; John fucking hated it. He didn’t want to know he was here, or that he was alive, or that he was real and so was this. Bobby said more with looks than with words, and John was different, because words were all he knew.
John moved slightly and bumped their noses together; his breath quickened, and he inhaled sharply. He watched Bobby as his breath let out wisps of cold and ice, and the temperature in the room dropped slightly. John leaned forwards and gently nudged him again, and Bobby smiled back in all his bliss and obliviousness, and John realised he didn’t know. Whether he felt it or not was another question, but if he did he didn’t acknowledge it.
It was times like this that John would question his knowledge of ‘sex’ and the ‘birds and the bees’, and whether or not he would have to inform the Ice-mutant himself. But every time he would wonder Bobby would stare at him with that knowing smile that said yes, and no, and smiles, and innocence, and ‘wouldn’t you like to know’, and ‘let’s play a game’ - all at the same time; and John would get a headache just from thinking about it.
John fucking hated sunshine, and smiles, and people in general; and John hated Bobby too. He leaned forwards again and touched their noses together. “I hate you.” He whispered with his warm breath against the ice-mutant’s lips. Bobby looked at him with that look and large wide blue eyes, and said “I know.”
~
-Now, if I keep it up like this, the next chapter will be up in no time. (=