Pyrokinetic Manipulator - Chapter Three
Author: Sj-snugglebug
Title: Pyrokinetic Manipulator
Genre: General/Romance
Rating: PG-13 (R at the most…but that’s pushing it)
Pairings: Distinct John/Bobby in this chapter.
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: Three
Chapter title: Ice Burn
Chapter Summary: It wasn’t said, acknowledged, or even thought of; it just was, and those were the rules. It was the unknown, it was the unheard, it was the unsaid, and the unacknowledged.
~
Previous Chapters: Chapter one (Yesteryear), Chapter two (Learning Games).
Authors notes: This chapter took me a little longer to actually get into, but once I did, it came. My 'hard to get into'ness usually reflects in my writing, so hopefully it doesn't in this chapter.
If anyone reads my authors notes, why oh why did my font on journal suddenly go from small to large large font? Why is everyone else's font smaller than mine?!
ICE BURN (CHAPTER THREE)
~
John rolled in bed, eyes flickering rapidly beneath his eyelids. A groan escaped from his dried lips; a groan, a moan, and a choke. His body jerked, fingers clenching around the warm hard metal in his hand; he choked again.
A voice intruded on his mind, whispering ‘Johnny. Johnny, wake up.’ His bare body shivered under the cold touch of fingers on his cheek.
‘Johnny…please wake up.’
John whimpered softly, rolling onto his other side; eyes moving rapidly, his face twitched and his teeth gritted. He felt an icy coldness on his face…
‘John.’
His eyes flew open and stared at the distant blur before him. ‘Briar?’ He whispered?
“It’s Bobby, John.” The voice said, and John stared. He could feel the weight of the bed pull beside him, and noticed it was indeed Bobby.
“What the fuck are you doing on my bed, Ice-boy?”
Bobby lay on top of the sheets, watching in with concern. “You were having a nightmare.” The boy informed. “Again; you woke me up again. It was worse than your nightmares before. I could tell.” Bobby paused, and then continued with, “You were loud. I couldn’t sleep.”
“So you decided to sleep with the source of your insomnia?” John snorted tiredly, and Bobby blushed though John couldn’t tell.
“I thought it might help you.” Bobby whispered back, and John chuckled with another yawn. He moved over slightly, to let the boy slip underneath the covers.
And that’s how it was.
~~
Bobby stood in the middle of the room with a silver chain dangling from his crossed arms. John frowned, and focused on the object, noticing a shoe-box open on the desk. Bobby lifted the chain before him.
“Why is it that I’ve known you for a year, maybe a little more, and I’ve never been told your name is Saint John?” Bobby snapped. John frowned again, unsure of whether to snicker or be angry. He settled for a soft snicker.
“Why the fuck were you going through my things? And it’s pronounced SinJinn” John decided that he would have to kill Bobby later on. If it had been anyone else, he would have done worse than kill them; he would have made them suffer first, but in honour of their friendship, John would make it quick and only slightly painful.
Bobby paused, “Sinjen?”
“SinJinn.”
“SinJnn…”
“No.”
“You say it too quickly. Syngeon?”
John took a deep breath, said “See, this is why I don’t use it. It’s SinJinn.”
Bobby shrugged. “I don’t care. I’m calling you Syngeon anyway.”
John sighed, and said “Do what you want, my dad used SinJnn anyway.”
“Really, why…that’s just weird if that’s not how it’s pronounced.”
“I don’t know, my dad pronounced it one way, my mum pronounced it the way I do, so it really doesn’t matter.” What John didn’t tell Bobby was that his little sister used Johnny; like Bobby would on occasions.
~~
John sat on the chair in Xavier’s office, picking at the wood of the arm-rest, and lovingly fondling his lighter in his pocket. He stared at the single lit candle in the middle of the Professor’s desk. They always kept a candle on the table; it taunted John, and the Professor knew that.
“You’ve been loosing control of your power again, St. John.”
John stared at the fire. Only the Professor called him that. Only the Professor knew that was his name; the Professor and Bobby.
“You almost hurt a student yesterday.”
John turned his gaze, defiantly, towards Xavier. The student deserved it.
“Have you been having the dreams again lately? Bobby tells me you have. Tell me about these dreams.”
‘You’re not a fucking psychologist.’ John thought. ‘Stop acting like one.’
“I don’t remember them.” John replied calmly. Too calmly, he knew the Professor would have thought. “And anyway, my dreams are my dreams.” ‘And they’re your fault.’ “Why don’t you just read my mind like you should.”
“Because,” Xavier said, “That would not be productive. We are here to learn to control your powers. Your abilities.”
“Then I should be using my powers, not talking shit about dreams.” John snapped, and the flame of the candle rose at an alarming rate. It grew, furling towards the ceiling. The Professor reached out and pushed the single candle closer towards John.
“Many mutants’ powers are easily used through emotions. Like Bobby’s, like Jubilees, yours can be too.” He motioned towards the candle. “Look what you did to the candle,” He looked up, and so did John. There was a black scorch mark on the ceiling. “And too the ceiling. That’s why we keep the candle lit, remember? The first step towards controlling your abilities, is to confront your past.”
John stared at the candle again. It flickered and danced on its wick.
“Tell me about your last dream.” Xavier said.
John sighed. “I was eleven years old. I was in a room, and it was on fire. I guess I like fire then.” He said sarcastically.
“Were you controlling the fire?” The Professor asked. John glared in response.
“Yes.” He snapped.
The Professor didn’t reply, and John relented.
“No.”
Xavier nodded. “Bobby tells me the nightmares have been getting worse.” He said, and in a cryptic way, he said ‘there must be more to it.’ “Have you been getting much sleep lately?”
John snorted in response. “I wouldn’t be having nightmares if I didn’t, now would I? And they call you the Professor.”
Xavier didn’t look offended, but merely smiled in that way John detested with a passion. He moved his wheelchair out from behind the desk and towards John who instinctively stood up.
“Remain seated, St. John.”
Xavier situated his wheelchair behind John’s wooden chair and placed a hand on either side of his head.
~~
Bobby sat on his bed cross-legged, carefully folding each article of clothing and placing it in a neat pile.
As John stared at him intently, Bobby carefully folded another t-shirt, placed it on the pile, and then snapped viciously “Quit staring at me! Why are you staring at me?”
John grinned in his wicked and devious way, and said “Do you have any idea how much I want to burn that right now?”
“Burn it, and I’ll do worse than ice your Zippo!”
John grinned again. “Do that and I’ll make sure those hands never ice anything ever again, Virgin-boy.”
Bobby gasped, and dropped his t-shirt. “Virgin-boy? God, you can be such an arsehole sometimes.” John laughed at this, and pressed his Zippo against his lips.
“Wow, Bobby swore. Who would’ve thunk it…” John chuckled to himself, and lay on his back, horizontally across his bed.
“I’m fourteen, John. Of course I’m a virgin!”
John grinned again. “You’re almost fifteen, and I’m not.” He said, and Bobby looked up, blinking randomly. The Ice-mutant looked at him intently, then sighed and placed a neatly folded pair of pants on the pile.
“Let me guess, you lost your virginity for fifty dollars whilst selling yourself to a gross old man during your hustling days.” Bobby said dryly, and John started to laugh.
“My, my; Bobby can think dirty thoughts too! You never cease to amaze me, Ice-boy.” John paused, then “And it was one hundred dollars to a guy who looked in his late twenties, thank you very much.”
Bobby looked up, shocked, and the fire-mutant laughed again.
“I’m kidding. There was no money or old or late twenties man involved. I was thirteen and we were drunk. No hustling. And a little high too, but I won’t go into that.”
The Ice-mutant sat on the bed, a shirt lying limply on his lap; the teen stared at John blankly and looking rather disturbed. “I have an idea…let’s talk about something else!” he exclaimed, and John laughed yet again. The fire-mutant crossed the room and sat down next to him.
“Why?” he asked. “Haven’t you ever even been kissed before?”
Bobby didn’t reply, and stared down at his t-shirt, blushing ever so slightly. John was amused by this sudden and erratic change of behaviour. He smiled at the ice-mutant; it was bold to blushing.
“Haven’t you?” John asked again. Bobby pulled back in what the fire-mutant could identify as the slightest pout. The Ice-mutant shook his head numbly, and John smiled. The fire-mutant leaned back on his elbows, almost knocking the neat pile of clothes off the bed. He smiled smugly, and said “I have,” lips pulled into an arrogant grin. “Oh, don’t be shy, Bobby. It’s all okay.”
Bobby glared at him out of the corner of his eye, and snapped “God, you can be such a fucking show off sometimes, you know that, Johnny?”
John laughed and flopped onto his back. “My my, Bobby; I’m such a bad influence on you. There you go, swearing like that again.” He watched curiously whilst Bobby sifted through the pile of clothes. Bobby looked up and saw John staring at him. The Ice-mutant frowned, and then blushed; and John laughed again, shaking his head.
“What’s with the sudden blush?” John smirked. “And what’s with the dual personality?”
“What do you mean?” Bobby said, staring at his hands and trying to push that creeping blush away.
“You go from bold to blushing in a millisecond. You’re not always like that, are you?”
“Only around you,” Bobby snapped, and grabbed a pair of shorts to fold. “And if you don’t mind,” he continued, “you can stop teasing me about my lack of ‘experience’.” Then in a soft whisper, he said “I hate you sometimes, you know?”
“I know.” John smiled wickedly, said ‘I’ll stop soon’, and grabbed Bobby by the shoulders, pushing him down onto the bed. He pressed his lips against Bobby’s fiercely, and Bobby struggled in shock; but trapped between John and the bed, escaping proved an impossible feat. John pinned his hands about his head, and deepened the unresponsive kiss, feeling Bobby’s palms and lips grow icy cold from shock and maybe that smallest hint of fear. John had kissed before; guys and a few girls, but Bobby’s lips were the only ones that had ever felt so cold he knew he’d be breathing ice for a small while.
He pulled Bobby’s chin down, his jaw was clenched tightly. John felt like he was running his tongue along the surface of an ice-cube, his breath expelled wisps of cold, misty-white.
When he felt Bobby struggle, he shifted his position over him and slipped a hand between them, trailing his warm fingers from Bobby’s stomach down to the waist band of his sweat-pants. Bobby twisted and trashed, trying to throw John off so fiercely their teeth clashed. When John felt Bobby’s body begin to tremble beneath him, hands causing John’s own to freeze, he let go.
Bobby propped himself up quickly, pulling away so fast he threw John to the floor.
John stared up at him from the ground, eyes burning into Bobby’s with wisps of frosty breath twirling into the air. Bobby sat on the bed, eyes wide with his fists clenched and frosted so they were a grainy white/blue. The sheets around him were frozen and ice climbed up the wall against the bed.
John raised his hand up to his hair, frost clinging to his face, his nose, his lips and cheeks; fringe frozen together. He watched Bobby’s fists, clenched so hard it turned the non-frosted sheets hard.
Bobby stared at him with a hard, cold glare that expelled anger, and upset, and sadness, and confusion, and sheer pure wonder. He gritted his teeth, and kept his fists clenched.
“Don’t do that again.”
It wasn’t said, acknowledged, or even thought of; it just was, and those were the rules. It was the silly notes passed in class, it was the brushes of skin, and the cold fiery glances, it was the ‘I hate you’s and the almost complete intolerance of each other’s presence; it was the ice and the fire, and the passion and the complete utter desire. It was the unknown, it was the unheard, it was the unsaid, and the unacknowledged.
And when Bobby would slip into John’s bed in the middle of the night, John would lift the covers and whisper ‘You’ll keep me from the nightmares?’, Bobby would reply ‘Yes’, and that was it. It was nothing more, and nothing less; but it was intricate, and deeper, and more complicated that either would realise.
~~
Bobby came into the room when John was leaning over his old duffle-bag.
“How did your session go with the professor?” Bobby asked. John shrugged in response, and stuffed a spare hooded-jumper into his bag.
“The man drives me nuts!” John said, turning to face Bobby. “More than you drive me nuts.”
Bobby blinked, and peered over to see what he was doing.
“Really? Wow.” He said, then paused thoughtfully. “Where are you going?” he asked, when he noticed the duffle-bag filled with clothes, a few books, and a wad of rolled up hundred-dollar bills he decided not to ask about.
John dropped his journal and pen into the bag and zipped it up, then turned around.
“I’m leaving.” He said, swinging the bag over his shoulder. Bobby looked shocked.
“What? Where are you going? When will you be back?”
John shrugged. “I might not come back. Yeah, I probably won’t. I can’t stand it here anymore.” Bobby stared at him in shock and wonder.
“You can’t leave!” Bobby said, and grabbed John’s arm. John laughed bitterly.
“Yes I can. When I was on the streets, I didn’t stay in one place for more than necessary. I’ve been here for almost two years. That is more than necessary.”
“What do you mean more than neces--”
“And anyway, I can’t take it with the Professor anymore. If I have one more session with him, I’ll go nuts. “ John headed for the door, but Bobby stopped him.
“Well then at least run away in the morning! It’s 11 pm, and it’s the middle of winter! You’ll freeze to death” Bobby pulled him back. John moved closer so he could lean against the taller boy.
“Then come with me.” John said. Bobby shook his head.
“It’s not like it is for you.” He said. “My parent’s know I’m here, yours don’t. I can’t just leave. I don’t want to leave. I like it here.”
John raised his hand and touched the Ice-mutants cheek with the pads of his fingers. Bobby pulled away instinctively. “Don’t.” he whispered. “Don’t do that.”
John just smiled. “If you don’t come, who will I have to piss me off, or to freeze my Zippo.”
“I’m sure the weather will be more than happy to freeze your Zippo.” Bobby whispered in turn. John leaned forwards, grabbed Bobby’s face between his hands and kissed him hard. Bobby trembled and pulled back in shock.
“Don’t.” He said.
John stared at him hard, and Bobby went over to the desk chair and picked up his coat. He grabbed a bag and began to throw clothes and his wallet into it.
When he was done they headed for the door and left.
“Run away with me.” John whispered softly.
~
-I won't say it this time, last time I did - 6 days (or so, I didn't count)