We Could Be So Happy, Baby
So, later, I'm going to post an entry about what's going on in my actual life. Because I have madness there, and 12-mile walks and Work Experience and shit.
Bur now, you get X-Men fic. Yay.
Title: We Could Be So Happy, Baby
Author: misplacedmarble
Fandom: X-Men
Characters: St. John/Bobby
Prompt: 008. Plan.
Word Count: 292
Rating: G
Summary: John can see their future.
Author's Notes: Erm. Because I have problems?
Cross Posted: misplacedmarble, dry_ice, fiery_snowstorm, x_slash, 100_situations
We Could Be So Happy, Baby
I know we could be so happy, baby,
If we wanted to be.
--Jeff Buckley, ‘I Know We Could Be So Happy, Baby’
They could be happy.
John knows this; he can even see it, if he tries, how happy they could be…
Bobby would bully him into applying to college with the sheer persistence of him. They’d share a dorm room (he’s sure this would happen, however unlikely it may seem).
They’d graduate, get an apartment together, get normal, every-day-person jobs.
Maybe even a dog.
And then they’d settle into a routine, and it would be comfortable, and wonderful, and John would start fights. Over little things, or big things, or anything, because comfortable is boring in John’s book, and this will never change.
At first Bobby will sigh, and smile, and talk to him quietly in that infuriating, patronising tone John detests so much, but soon he’ll get frustrated. When John yells, he’ll yell back, and all the things that they have left unsaid, building up and building up and just waiting for the dam to break, will explode outwards in a flood of sharp words and hard fists, until-
One day Bobby will wake up alone. There might be a note taped to the fridge (he doesn’t know what it would say, hasn’t got that far yet, doesn’t want to) or there might just be a conspicuously empty space in the closet, but Bobby won’t need these things to know.
Because as soon as he opens his eyes he will see an empty night table, devoid of John’s emergency lighter (just in case, he will always say, though Bobby will invariably reply that you have a hundred scattered around in different places anyway) and he will know.
John is gone.
John is gone, and he won’t be coming back.
…He can even see it, if he tries, how happy they could be.
Bur now, you get X-Men fic. Yay.
Title: We Could Be So Happy, Baby
Author: misplacedmarble
Fandom: X-Men
Characters: St. John/Bobby
Prompt: 008. Plan.
Word Count: 292
Rating: G
Summary: John can see their future.
Author's Notes: Erm. Because I have problems?
Cross Posted: misplacedmarble, dry_ice, fiery_snowstorm, x_slash, 100_situations
We Could Be So Happy, Baby
I know we could be so happy, baby,
If we wanted to be.
--Jeff Buckley, ‘I Know We Could Be So Happy, Baby’
They could be happy.
John knows this; he can even see it, if he tries, how happy they could be…
Bobby would bully him into applying to college with the sheer persistence of him. They’d share a dorm room (he’s sure this would happen, however unlikely it may seem).
They’d graduate, get an apartment together, get normal, every-day-person jobs.
Maybe even a dog.
And then they’d settle into a routine, and it would be comfortable, and wonderful, and John would start fights. Over little things, or big things, or anything, because comfortable is boring in John’s book, and this will never change.
At first Bobby will sigh, and smile, and talk to him quietly in that infuriating, patronising tone John detests so much, but soon he’ll get frustrated. When John yells, he’ll yell back, and all the things that they have left unsaid, building up and building up and just waiting for the dam to break, will explode outwards in a flood of sharp words and hard fists, until-
One day Bobby will wake up alone. There might be a note taped to the fridge (he doesn’t know what it would say, hasn’t got that far yet, doesn’t want to) or there might just be a conspicuously empty space in the closet, but Bobby won’t need these things to know.
Because as soon as he opens his eyes he will see an empty night table, devoid of John’s emergency lighter (just in case, he will always say, though Bobby will invariably reply that you have a hundred scattered around in different places anyway) and he will know.
John is gone.
John is gone, and he won’t be coming back.
…He can even see it, if he tries, how happy they could be.