(no subject)
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: Six
Chapter title: Aphrodisiac
Chapter Summary: John loses control. Fire does that to him…and so does Bobby.
~
Previous Chapters: Chapter one (Yesteryear), Chapter two (Learning Games), Chapter three (Ice Burn), Chapter four (Changes), Chapter five (Reflections)
Author’s notes: My new John/Bobby - Pyro/Iceman - theme song has officially become ‘Bliss’ by ‘Muse’. Why, you ask? It is because that song is always playing when I write this fic. Always, always. I can not listen to that song without suddenly thinking ‘John and Bobby’.
My other John/Bobby side song is ‘Give it back’ by ‘Gaelle’. Because that song always plays after ‘Muse’ does.
I apologise for the lateness. This chapter was difficult for me to write - it just didn't flow, if you know what I mean.
APHRODISIAC (CHAPTER SIX)
~
John hated spinning. The one thing he recalled about his sister was the fact that she used to spin and spin and spin. That was the only thing he recalled - not what she looked like, what she liked, how she sounded - but the mere fact that she used to spin, spin, spin…
John lit a single wax candle in the middle of the desk and focused on it.
He despised the idea of relinquishing control and that’s what you did when you spun. Control had been his lifelong watchword. He ran his life by that single word. His father had taught him that. His father had also taught him never to cry because boys shouldn’t cry and men definitely didn’t cry.
John concentrated on the flame flickering tauntingly before him - he stared and the fire expanded, contracted, and then expanded again. He breathed short heavy sharp breaths and focused on the flame as it trailed down the melting candle and onto a pristine white sheet of paper leaving no scorch marks behind.
“Very Good, St. John, You may stop.” The Professor said, placing both his arms on the desk and leaning forwards to watch the teenage mutant carefully. John took a deep ragged breath and pulled away, shivers coursing down his spin. The Professor wheeled his chair from behind his desk and stopped beside the youth.
“How long have you been here for?” He asked.
John crossed his hands over his chest - he would never understand why people asked the obvious.
“Two years.” John said “Too long.”
The Professor nodded, “Two years; almost three years. This is the most progress we have made in almost three years.”
John didn’t reply, but turned away and thought bitterly ‘manipulative bastard’.
“I’m not trying to manipulate you, St. John. I’m merely trying to help you” The Professor said.
John whipped around to glare at him and snapped ‘Stay out of my head, Old man!”
“I’m trying to help you, I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be.”
The Professor smiled gently, and placed his hands on his lap, calmly looking at John. “Why are you here, St. John?” He asked.
John paused, then “I need a place to stay.”
“There are plenty of homeless shelters around New York. Why are you here?”
“I’m here because your minions plucked me off the streets and insisted I join your club for mutant happiness and joy. Anyway, a homeless shelter isn’t going to want a mutant.”
“Why didn’t you just go home?”
John didn’t reply; he flinched and turned away.
“St. John, why didn’t you just go home?”
John leaned his head in his hands - gripping his hair, he tugged and groaned - said in short pained voices, “I can’t - go - home!” The professor sat, unmoved, placed a hand on John’s shoulder.
He said, “Why can’t you go home, St. John” in a gentle voice.
“Stop it…” John gripped his head, rocked slightly, “Stop it!”
“I’m not doing anything.” Xavier said, and John knew the truth was that he wasn’t.
The flame on the desk flickered and grew and spun - it taunted and twirled on its wick, growing higher and larger and more dangerous.
“Control your fire, St. John.” The Professor said, and removed his hand; leaned back in the wheelchair.
John groaned and released his head, still leaning forwards slightly he said in a strained and gritted voice, “I’m always in control of my fire.”
The fire grew, flickered, and expanded on its single wick; and as John stared he felt breathless and hot; shivers ran up his spine.
“Control the fire!” The Professor said - and the fire grew and trailed across the desk, burning papers and ink and books…
John saw smoke - he saw flames - he saw fire
Heard screams - heard giggles - saw…
Spin
Spin
Spin
He tried to focus, but he saw flames and smelt death.
The Professor picked up an extinguisher and put out the fire in a cloud of white. He didn’t say anything, and neither did John who stared carefully at the charred black desk.
“There was nothing of importance on my desk, St. John. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried.”
“Good. Tell me about the time last month, in the lounge by the fireplace.”
“I was sleeping.”
“…and?”
“I almost burned the room down.”
“Tell me why you can’t go home anymore”
“…”
“St. John?”
“…because it’s not there anymore.”
“Why isn’t it there anymore?”
“…because they died. All of them.”
“Why did they die?”
“…I can’t remember…”
~~
Click - Fwoosh…
John flicked his lighter playfully with both hands as he read Shakespeare’s ‘Macbeth’ for his English class. The door opened and closed with a sounding thud, and he rolled over to see Bobby standing at the doorframe with a wide grin on his face. John rolled his eyes and rolled back to his book. He heard Bobby’s footsteps thud closer and winced when a body landed on his own - Bobby pounced. The ice-mutant settled himself comfortably in the dip in John’s lower back where his back met his behind; leaned forwards flat against his friend and set an elbow on either side of his head.
John looked over his shoulder, “What are you doing?” He asked.
Bobby giggled back, “Nothing.”
“My my, aren’t we feeling touchy feely today?” John drawled, turning back to his book.
Bobby smiled and leaned his head against the back of John’s. “S’not my fault if ya’an anti-social bookworm, s’is s’it?”
John frowned, considered this, and then said “Say again?”
Bobby paused, opened his mouth to repeat, then closed it and frowned. “Hmmm…”
The fire-mutant turned his head and shifted an arm behind him - unable to turn onto his side as he usually would have due to an entire person planted firmly on his back.
“What have you been drinking?” John asked in wonder. Bobby just stared back blankly. “Alright,” John continued, “Then what have you been taking?”
Bobby grinned, pulled a large gummi snake out of his pocket and ripped the head off. John rolled his eyes and turned back to his book.
“You’re the only person I know who goes stupid after eating sugar.” He said, and Bobby giggled back at him. The younger boy rolled his eyes and John pushed him off the bed roughly.
“The boys want to go out to town, want to come?”
John looked up inquisitively. “The Boys, I didn’t realise there were the boys.”
Bobby shrugged carelessly and sat on the edge of the bed again. “The boys” he explained. “You know; Peter, Jean-Paul, me - you, if you want to come.”
“Jean-Paul…”
“Jean-Paul; Northstar. You know; the really really fast guy.”
“Oh right…the kid who has a crush on you.” John snorted into his book.
“He does not have a crush on me! So, you want to come?”
He shrugged indecisively. “I’ll pass. They don’t really like me - and honestly, I don’t particularly care for them either.”
“Maybe you should try to be less of a hermit and a bookworm…and an arsehole…”
John snickered and stood up. “You go, I can’t be bothered.”
Bobby leaned over and quickly kissed his lips before grabbing his jacket and pulling it on. “Maybe next time.” He said, and John agreed; sitting down and flipping the page of his book.
“Maybe next time” John repeated softly.
~~
John leaned against the cold metal shed; lighting a cigarette, he inhaled and tried to blow smoke rings into the air. Jubilee stood beside him, one hand sandwiched between the wall of the shed and her back - she gestured with her other hand.
“So, it’s midnight, right? And I know you’re going to be awake. You’re always awake at midnight.” She began.
John blew another deformed smoke ring and rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, mummy, I’m not in the mood for story time right now.” He drawled.
“Shut up and let me speak.” Jubilee snapped, and began again. “So, it’s midnight, right? And I know you’re going to be awake because you’re always awake at midnight. So, I decide - why not go visit my good ol’ buddy John.”
John gave her an odd look and mouthed the word ‘buddy?’ to himself.
“So, I go into your room, right? And there you are - in bed and asleep; and I think to myself ‘this is different. You’re actually asleep for once’. But, on closer inspection - I see Bobby too; huddled up looking all cute and huggable. ” Jubilee said with the slightest tone of sarcasm. She shook her head and laughed good-naturedly. “I didn’t know you two were together. That’s cute, in fact. Rather odd, but cute. I didn’t realise Bobby was gay either. I thought he had a thing for Kitty.”
John watched her warily; he flipped over his cigarette and blew at the lit end - cleaning off the ash. “He does, and he isn’t.” he paused, “At least I don’t think so.”
Jubilee considered him, looking confused. “So, you were sleeping together for what; the heck of it?”
John shook his head and took another drag. “I have nightmares.” He admitted, as if that would explain the situation.
Jubilee raised an eyebrow and sat down next to him. “Then he’s not gay?” she asked, and John shrugged. “And you two aren’t a couple?” - He shook his head.
“But he likes Kitty” She continued. “Then why hasn’t he made his move?”
“Too shy?” John suggested, and they both knew that wasn’t why.
“No way; he definitely flirts with her.” Jubilee looked at him - he knew where this was going. “You’re the only thing standing in their way, and you know that. He loves you like a brother…”
John winced and lit another cigarette.
“…and he’s not going to do something if he thinks it’ll hurt you. Let him make his move before it’s too late.”
“Too late?”
“Pete has a thing for her too.”
“My my, what a popular little girl she is.” John drawled sarcastically. Jubilee frowned, then suddenly grabbed the front of his shirt - surprising him so much he dropped the cigarette he was holding onto the dirt.
“Look, John. You may do the arsehole thing well, and yeah - it suits you. But don’t you hurt Bobby, because he’s the only one close to you and the only one who actually knows you. He may put up with your bullshit more than the rest of us do and ever will, but if you keep going the way you’re headed - just think about how long he’ll stand it for.”
John stared at her, then at his cigarette that was burning to ash on the dirt.
“I say this, of course” she said “as your friend.”
John crushed the cigarette and lit a new one.
~~
John lay on the bed with a ball of fire in his hand and Bobby with his head on his other arm. He let the fire crawl over his skin, sending comforting shivers coursing through him; his breath hitched in his throat and he swallowed down a lump that had formed.
He felt Bobby watching him intensely, and turned to the boy.
“Aphrodisiac” Bobby said, and John looked at him with a ‘what?’ expression. “Aphrodisiac” Bobby repeated with a sly look upon his face. “That’s what fire is for you, right? An aphrodisiac”
“What the hell?” John snorted, and went back to playing with his ball of fire. Bobby moved his head and sat up, leaving John’s arm with a numb and tingling feeling.
“Aph-ro-di-si-ac” He said again. “That’s what fire is for you; an aphrodisiac. I mean, every time you play with it you seem to get all hot and bothered. I’ve seen you.” Bobby smiled an eerie smile that made John shiver in a way not caused by fire.
The fire-mutant lifted a flaming finger and pointed it at Bobby, said “Watch yourself, ice-boy, or I’ll melt you” and put the fire out with a clenched fist and a whirl of grey smoke.
“You do, you do!” Bobby insisted. “I’ve watched you. You do this.” He sat on the bed and made exaggerated heaving motions with his chest, causing John to roll his eyes once again. John lay back onto the bed, and Bobby’s eyes trailed from his chest downwards. John watched closely, eyes trailing the path that Bobby’s made.
“So maybe you’re right.” He said, and pulled the taller boy back down onto the bed. John lit a small fire in his palm, and held it close to the ice-mutant. Bobby jumped slightly, chest heaved - heart pounded at the fire so frighteningly close to burn. John held the fire closer, scorching the ice-mutant slightly and suddenly. Bobby gasped and jumped again.
“Control it…don’t burn me” he whispered, and John frowned - flipped off the boy, pushing them both to the floor.
John lay on top of him, and knew Bobby was right. Ever since he was a boy fire had amused him, intrigued him, aroused him, and frightened him all at once.
“You’re right.” John whispered, and felt Bobby’s heart thump against his shirt and his chest. He wrestled Bobby’s arms above his head, and the youth fought back. Whispered harshly, “Don’t! John, stop it!”
John watched the youth’s eyes closely; saw the fierce defiance in them. Bobby twisted, and the fire-mutant pinned his arms down harder. Bobby was stronger, but John knew how to fight. His father had taught him so.
“No, stop…” Bobby whispered again, and John remembered their last encounter in such a manner many months ago. Bobby had whispered ‘No’ and ‘Don’t’ but hadn’t tried to stop him. He was trying now.
John leaned down and kissed him - Bobby bit and drew blood. With one hand pinning the ice-mutant’s arms above his head, John grabbed his face with the other and kissed.
Tasted blood
Bobby bit and kissed back - hard - rough.
“Virgin-boy” John whispered into his ear and the kissed his neck.
“Yes.” Bobby whispered breathlessly. “And I’d like to stay that way.”
John looked up at him and wondered what Bobby was implying. He ran the back of his fingers against Bobby’s lips, wiping off some of his own blood that had been left there. Bobby shivered and watched him.
“Would you hurt me?” he whispered, and John paused.
“Yes.”
Bobby stared at him. He had known that, John knew. Bobby had always known that.
He continued to stare up at John, hints of sadness in his cold blue eyes. John felt the ice-mutant tremble, but not out of fear, he noted silently. Tears clung to Bobby’s eye lashes, and one trickled down his cheek and turned to ice mid-path.
“Would you rape me?” Bobby whispered again, and John didn’t reply instantly. The fire-mutant leaned over and kissed his neck, causing Bobby to grimace. He let his tongue tentatively touch the youth’s frosted skin, and moved up to his ear, hot breath brushing against his skin and hair.
John moved up again to watch him closely.
“No.” He said, simply, not releasing the youth’s arms. “I wouldn’t,” though he knew Bobby wasn’t to sure.
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: Six
Chapter title: Aphrodisiac
Chapter Summary: John loses control. Fire does that to him…and so does Bobby.
~
Previous Chapters: Chapter one (Yesteryear), Chapter two (Learning Games), Chapter three (Ice Burn), Chapter four (Changes), Chapter five (Reflections)
Author’s notes: My new John/Bobby - Pyro/Iceman - theme song has officially become ‘Bliss’ by ‘Muse’. Why, you ask? It is because that song is always playing when I write this fic. Always, always. I can not listen to that song without suddenly thinking ‘John and Bobby’.
My other John/Bobby side song is ‘Give it back’ by ‘Gaelle’. Because that song always plays after ‘Muse’ does.
I apologise for the lateness. This chapter was difficult for me to write - it just didn't flow, if you know what I mean.
APHRODISIAC (CHAPTER SIX)
~
John hated spinning. The one thing he recalled about his sister was the fact that she used to spin and spin and spin. That was the only thing he recalled - not what she looked like, what she liked, how she sounded - but the mere fact that she used to spin, spin, spin…
John lit a single wax candle in the middle of the desk and focused on it.
He despised the idea of relinquishing control and that’s what you did when you spun. Control had been his lifelong watchword. He ran his life by that single word. His father had taught him that. His father had also taught him never to cry because boys shouldn’t cry and men definitely didn’t cry.
John concentrated on the flame flickering tauntingly before him - he stared and the fire expanded, contracted, and then expanded again. He breathed short heavy sharp breaths and focused on the flame as it trailed down the melting candle and onto a pristine white sheet of paper leaving no scorch marks behind.
“Very Good, St. John, You may stop.” The Professor said, placing both his arms on the desk and leaning forwards to watch the teenage mutant carefully. John took a deep ragged breath and pulled away, shivers coursing down his spin. The Professor wheeled his chair from behind his desk and stopped beside the youth.
“How long have you been here for?” He asked.
John crossed his hands over his chest - he would never understand why people asked the obvious.
“Two years.” John said “Too long.”
The Professor nodded, “Two years; almost three years. This is the most progress we have made in almost three years.”
John didn’t reply, but turned away and thought bitterly ‘manipulative bastard’.
“I’m not trying to manipulate you, St. John. I’m merely trying to help you” The Professor said.
John whipped around to glare at him and snapped ‘Stay out of my head, Old man!”
“I’m trying to help you, I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be.”
The Professor smiled gently, and placed his hands on his lap, calmly looking at John. “Why are you here, St. John?” He asked.
John paused, then “I need a place to stay.”
“There are plenty of homeless shelters around New York. Why are you here?”
“I’m here because your minions plucked me off the streets and insisted I join your club for mutant happiness and joy. Anyway, a homeless shelter isn’t going to want a mutant.”
“Why didn’t you just go home?”
John didn’t reply; he flinched and turned away.
“St. John, why didn’t you just go home?”
John leaned his head in his hands - gripping his hair, he tugged and groaned - said in short pained voices, “I can’t - go - home!” The professor sat, unmoved, placed a hand on John’s shoulder.
He said, “Why can’t you go home, St. John” in a gentle voice.
“Stop it…” John gripped his head, rocked slightly, “Stop it!”
“I’m not doing anything.” Xavier said, and John knew the truth was that he wasn’t.
The flame on the desk flickered and grew and spun - it taunted and twirled on its wick, growing higher and larger and more dangerous.
“Control your fire, St. John.” The Professor said, and removed his hand; leaned back in the wheelchair.
John groaned and released his head, still leaning forwards slightly he said in a strained and gritted voice, “I’m always in control of my fire.”
The fire grew, flickered, and expanded on its single wick; and as John stared he felt breathless and hot; shivers ran up his spine.
“Control the fire!” The Professor said - and the fire grew and trailed across the desk, burning papers and ink and books…
John saw smoke - he saw flames - he saw fire
Heard screams - heard giggles - saw…
Spin
Spin
Spin
He tried to focus, but he saw flames and smelt death.
The Professor picked up an extinguisher and put out the fire in a cloud of white. He didn’t say anything, and neither did John who stared carefully at the charred black desk.
“There was nothing of importance on my desk, St. John. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried.”
“Good. Tell me about the time last month, in the lounge by the fireplace.”
“I was sleeping.”
“…and?”
“I almost burned the room down.”
“Tell me why you can’t go home anymore”
“…”
“St. John?”
“…because it’s not there anymore.”
“Why isn’t it there anymore?”
“…because they died. All of them.”
“Why did they die?”
“…I can’t remember…”
~~
Click - Fwoosh…
John flicked his lighter playfully with both hands as he read Shakespeare’s ‘Macbeth’ for his English class. The door opened and closed with a sounding thud, and he rolled over to see Bobby standing at the doorframe with a wide grin on his face. John rolled his eyes and rolled back to his book. He heard Bobby’s footsteps thud closer and winced when a body landed on his own - Bobby pounced. The ice-mutant settled himself comfortably in the dip in John’s lower back where his back met his behind; leaned forwards flat against his friend and set an elbow on either side of his head.
John looked over his shoulder, “What are you doing?” He asked.
Bobby giggled back, “Nothing.”
“My my, aren’t we feeling touchy feely today?” John drawled, turning back to his book.
Bobby smiled and leaned his head against the back of John’s. “S’not my fault if ya’an anti-social bookworm, s’is s’it?”
John frowned, considered this, and then said “Say again?”
Bobby paused, opened his mouth to repeat, then closed it and frowned. “Hmmm…”
The fire-mutant turned his head and shifted an arm behind him - unable to turn onto his side as he usually would have due to an entire person planted firmly on his back.
“What have you been drinking?” John asked in wonder. Bobby just stared back blankly. “Alright,” John continued, “Then what have you been taking?”
Bobby grinned, pulled a large gummi snake out of his pocket and ripped the head off. John rolled his eyes and turned back to his book.
“You’re the only person I know who goes stupid after eating sugar.” He said, and Bobby giggled back at him. The younger boy rolled his eyes and John pushed him off the bed roughly.
“The boys want to go out to town, want to come?”
John looked up inquisitively. “The Boys, I didn’t realise there were the boys.”
Bobby shrugged carelessly and sat on the edge of the bed again. “The boys” he explained. “You know; Peter, Jean-Paul, me - you, if you want to come.”
“Jean-Paul…”
“Jean-Paul; Northstar. You know; the really really fast guy.”
“Oh right…the kid who has a crush on you.” John snorted into his book.
“He does not have a crush on me! So, you want to come?”
He shrugged indecisively. “I’ll pass. They don’t really like me - and honestly, I don’t particularly care for them either.”
“Maybe you should try to be less of a hermit and a bookworm…and an arsehole…”
John snickered and stood up. “You go, I can’t be bothered.”
Bobby leaned over and quickly kissed his lips before grabbing his jacket and pulling it on. “Maybe next time.” He said, and John agreed; sitting down and flipping the page of his book.
“Maybe next time” John repeated softly.
~~
John leaned against the cold metal shed; lighting a cigarette, he inhaled and tried to blow smoke rings into the air. Jubilee stood beside him, one hand sandwiched between the wall of the shed and her back - she gestured with her other hand.
“So, it’s midnight, right? And I know you’re going to be awake. You’re always awake at midnight.” She began.
John blew another deformed smoke ring and rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, mummy, I’m not in the mood for story time right now.” He drawled.
“Shut up and let me speak.” Jubilee snapped, and began again. “So, it’s midnight, right? And I know you’re going to be awake because you’re always awake at midnight. So, I decide - why not go visit my good ol’ buddy John.”
John gave her an odd look and mouthed the word ‘buddy?’ to himself.
“So, I go into your room, right? And there you are - in bed and asleep; and I think to myself ‘this is different. You’re actually asleep for once’. But, on closer inspection - I see Bobby too; huddled up looking all cute and huggable. ” Jubilee said with the slightest tone of sarcasm. She shook her head and laughed good-naturedly. “I didn’t know you two were together. That’s cute, in fact. Rather odd, but cute. I didn’t realise Bobby was gay either. I thought he had a thing for Kitty.”
John watched her warily; he flipped over his cigarette and blew at the lit end - cleaning off the ash. “He does, and he isn’t.” he paused, “At least I don’t think so.”
Jubilee considered him, looking confused. “So, you were sleeping together for what; the heck of it?”
John shook his head and took another drag. “I have nightmares.” He admitted, as if that would explain the situation.
Jubilee raised an eyebrow and sat down next to him. “Then he’s not gay?” she asked, and John shrugged. “And you two aren’t a couple?” - He shook his head.
“But he likes Kitty” She continued. “Then why hasn’t he made his move?”
“Too shy?” John suggested, and they both knew that wasn’t why.
“No way; he definitely flirts with her.” Jubilee looked at him - he knew where this was going. “You’re the only thing standing in their way, and you know that. He loves you like a brother…”
John winced and lit another cigarette.
“…and he’s not going to do something if he thinks it’ll hurt you. Let him make his move before it’s too late.”
“Too late?”
“Pete has a thing for her too.”
“My my, what a popular little girl she is.” John drawled sarcastically. Jubilee frowned, then suddenly grabbed the front of his shirt - surprising him so much he dropped the cigarette he was holding onto the dirt.
“Look, John. You may do the arsehole thing well, and yeah - it suits you. But don’t you hurt Bobby, because he’s the only one close to you and the only one who actually knows you. He may put up with your bullshit more than the rest of us do and ever will, but if you keep going the way you’re headed - just think about how long he’ll stand it for.”
John stared at her, then at his cigarette that was burning to ash on the dirt.
“I say this, of course” she said “as your friend.”
John crushed the cigarette and lit a new one.
~~
John lay on the bed with a ball of fire in his hand and Bobby with his head on his other arm. He let the fire crawl over his skin, sending comforting shivers coursing through him; his breath hitched in his throat and he swallowed down a lump that had formed.
He felt Bobby watching him intensely, and turned to the boy.
“Aphrodisiac” Bobby said, and John looked at him with a ‘what?’ expression. “Aphrodisiac” Bobby repeated with a sly look upon his face. “That’s what fire is for you, right? An aphrodisiac”
“What the hell?” John snorted, and went back to playing with his ball of fire. Bobby moved his head and sat up, leaving John’s arm with a numb and tingling feeling.
“Aph-ro-di-si-ac” He said again. “That’s what fire is for you; an aphrodisiac. I mean, every time you play with it you seem to get all hot and bothered. I’ve seen you.” Bobby smiled an eerie smile that made John shiver in a way not caused by fire.
The fire-mutant lifted a flaming finger and pointed it at Bobby, said “Watch yourself, ice-boy, or I’ll melt you” and put the fire out with a clenched fist and a whirl of grey smoke.
“You do, you do!” Bobby insisted. “I’ve watched you. You do this.” He sat on the bed and made exaggerated heaving motions with his chest, causing John to roll his eyes once again. John lay back onto the bed, and Bobby’s eyes trailed from his chest downwards. John watched closely, eyes trailing the path that Bobby’s made.
“So maybe you’re right.” He said, and pulled the taller boy back down onto the bed. John lit a small fire in his palm, and held it close to the ice-mutant. Bobby jumped slightly, chest heaved - heart pounded at the fire so frighteningly close to burn. John held the fire closer, scorching the ice-mutant slightly and suddenly. Bobby gasped and jumped again.
“Control it…don’t burn me” he whispered, and John frowned - flipped off the boy, pushing them both to the floor.
John lay on top of him, and knew Bobby was right. Ever since he was a boy fire had amused him, intrigued him, aroused him, and frightened him all at once.
“You’re right.” John whispered, and felt Bobby’s heart thump against his shirt and his chest. He wrestled Bobby’s arms above his head, and the youth fought back. Whispered harshly, “Don’t! John, stop it!”
John watched the youth’s eyes closely; saw the fierce defiance in them. Bobby twisted, and the fire-mutant pinned his arms down harder. Bobby was stronger, but John knew how to fight. His father had taught him so.
“No, stop…” Bobby whispered again, and John remembered their last encounter in such a manner many months ago. Bobby had whispered ‘No’ and ‘Don’t’ but hadn’t tried to stop him. He was trying now.
John leaned down and kissed him - Bobby bit and drew blood. With one hand pinning the ice-mutant’s arms above his head, John grabbed his face with the other and kissed.
Tasted blood
Bobby bit and kissed back - hard - rough.
“Virgin-boy” John whispered into his ear and the kissed his neck.
“Yes.” Bobby whispered breathlessly. “And I’d like to stay that way.”
John looked up at him and wondered what Bobby was implying. He ran the back of his fingers against Bobby’s lips, wiping off some of his own blood that had been left there. Bobby shivered and watched him.
“Would you hurt me?” he whispered, and John paused.
“Yes.”
Bobby stared at him. He had known that, John knew. Bobby had always known that.
He continued to stare up at John, hints of sadness in his cold blue eyes. John felt the ice-mutant tremble, but not out of fear, he noted silently. Tears clung to Bobby’s eye lashes, and one trickled down his cheek and turned to ice mid-path.
“Would you rape me?” Bobby whispered again, and John didn’t reply instantly. The fire-mutant leaned over and kissed his neck, causing Bobby to grimace. He let his tongue tentatively touch the youth’s frosted skin, and moved up to his ear, hot breath brushing against his skin and hair.
John moved up again to watch him closely.
“No.” He said, simply, not releasing the youth’s arms. “I wouldn’t,” though he knew Bobby wasn’t to sure.