X-Men: All That Matters; Or: Five Scars Jean-Paul Beaubier Knows Bobby Drake Has
Title: All That Matters; Or: Five Scars Jean-Paul Beaubier Knows Bobby Drake Has
Fandom: X-Men
Characters/Pairings: Jean-Paul Beaubier, Bobby Drake. Northstar/Iceman.
Rating: PG, I believe.
Genre: ...Angst? Vaguely fluffy. I really have no idea.
Word Count: Ur.
Notes: Written because I keep hoping JP and Bobby will one day become canon. Cough. Uhh, spoilers for the Supernovas arc, I suppose. (But everyone's read that, right?)
The first scar Jean-Paul notices is the one right between the second and third knuckles of Bobby's right hand, white even against the impossible pallor of his skin, and Jean-Paul's eyes are caught there, the words tumbling from his mouth before he can stop them.
"That scar. How did you get it?"
Bobby blinks at him, surprised enough for once to leave off sarcasm and sharp words. "What? Which - This?" He holds up his hand, and Jean-Paul, caught, nods mutely. "Can't remember. Bar fight, maybe."
And that is the end of it.
The second scar Jean-Paul notices is the one that disappears up into Bobby's hairline, and only shows when he rakes his fingers through the messy bangs. This time, Jean-Paul clamps down tightly on the words, forcing himself to forget pink line of newer flesh, because in this business, everyone has scars.
Everyone.
The third scar traces the line of Bobby's jaw, faint and thin, but long and raised and there, and Jean-Paul has to make himself look away, to calm the ridiculous thudding of his heart, to forget the images that come unbidden into his mind.
When he looks back, Bobby is looking at him speculatively, both eyebrows raised in question, and Jean-Paul realizes that he missed something - missed a query, or a statement, or something, and he flounders for a moment behind his impenetrable mask.
His eyes - crisse - find their way back to the scar, and Jean-Paul - Jean-Paul knows that love is ridiculous, and infatuation even more so, and it drives him crazy to know it, and to know that he has so little control over his body, over himself, that when Bobby asks, "Hey, Northstar, you listening to me?"
- all he can say is, "No," as his fingertips ghost over the clean line of Bobby's jaw.
The third scar is the first one Jean-Paul ever kisses.
The fourth scar is a crescent against the crease of Bobby's elbow. A burn. Bobby laughs at him when he asks about it.
"A roommate I had when I was a kid here. A pyrokinetic. He played rough."
Jean-Paul thinks there may be more to it, but he isn't about to press his luck. Instead, he presses his lips to the faded mark, and watches as Bobby's smile goes lopsided and soft.
The fifth scar is the one that is most painful to look at; the little starburst-shape blossoms from the center of Bobby's chest, a dark, dull red-purple that makes Jean-Paul hurt somewhere deep.
Bobby tells him he can't quite recall where he got it from, that it might have been from when he was turning into ice, that it could've been from any number of fights. It's just another scar.
But it's not.
Because every time Jean-Paul sees it, he hears words like slingshot, like trajectory, like momentum. Like death.
Because every time Jean-Paul sees it, he remembers that Bobby could have died.
That he almost killed this man.
But he didn't, and perhaps that is all that matters.
Fandom: X-Men
Characters/Pairings: Jean-Paul Beaubier, Bobby Drake. Northstar/Iceman.
Rating: PG, I believe.
Genre: ...Angst? Vaguely fluffy. I really have no idea.
Word Count: Ur.
Notes: Written because I keep hoping JP and Bobby will one day become canon. Cough. Uhh, spoilers for the Supernovas arc, I suppose. (But everyone's read that, right?)
The first scar Jean-Paul notices is the one right between the second and third knuckles of Bobby's right hand, white even against the impossible pallor of his skin, and Jean-Paul's eyes are caught there, the words tumbling from his mouth before he can stop them.
"That scar. How did you get it?"
Bobby blinks at him, surprised enough for once to leave off sarcasm and sharp words. "What? Which - This?" He holds up his hand, and Jean-Paul, caught, nods mutely. "Can't remember. Bar fight, maybe."
And that is the end of it.
The second scar Jean-Paul notices is the one that disappears up into Bobby's hairline, and only shows when he rakes his fingers through the messy bangs. This time, Jean-Paul clamps down tightly on the words, forcing himself to forget pink line of newer flesh, because in this business, everyone has scars.
Everyone.
The third scar traces the line of Bobby's jaw, faint and thin, but long and raised and there, and Jean-Paul has to make himself look away, to calm the ridiculous thudding of his heart, to forget the images that come unbidden into his mind.
When he looks back, Bobby is looking at him speculatively, both eyebrows raised in question, and Jean-Paul realizes that he missed something - missed a query, or a statement, or something, and he flounders for a moment behind his impenetrable mask.
His eyes - crisse - find their way back to the scar, and Jean-Paul - Jean-Paul knows that love is ridiculous, and infatuation even more so, and it drives him crazy to know it, and to know that he has so little control over his body, over himself, that when Bobby asks, "Hey, Northstar, you listening to me?"
- all he can say is, "No," as his fingertips ghost over the clean line of Bobby's jaw.
The third scar is the first one Jean-Paul ever kisses.
The fourth scar is a crescent against the crease of Bobby's elbow. A burn. Bobby laughs at him when he asks about it.
"A roommate I had when I was a kid here. A pyrokinetic. He played rough."
Jean-Paul thinks there may be more to it, but he isn't about to press his luck. Instead, he presses his lips to the faded mark, and watches as Bobby's smile goes lopsided and soft.
The fifth scar is the one that is most painful to look at; the little starburst-shape blossoms from the center of Bobby's chest, a dark, dull red-purple that makes Jean-Paul hurt somewhere deep.
Bobby tells him he can't quite recall where he got it from, that it might have been from when he was turning into ice, that it could've been from any number of fights. It's just another scar.
But it's not.
Because every time Jean-Paul sees it, he hears words like slingshot, like trajectory, like momentum. Like death.
Because every time Jean-Paul sees it, he remembers that Bobby could have died.
That he almost killed this man.
But he didn't, and perhaps that is all that matters.