Generation X fanfic: "No Glove, No Love" (feat. Bobby Drake & Angelo Espinosa)
Title: No Glove, No Love
Fandom: Generation X, during that period when Bobby was teaching at the Snow Valley school.
Summary: Sometimes, being a mentor sucks, or, Sex Education, mutant-style.
Author's Notes: No, this is not a Bobby/Angelo fic.
The Iceman, in his guise as Bobby Drake, teacher of Basic Accounting at the Massachusetts Academy (secret annex of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, of which Iceman/Bobby Drake was an alumnus), walked into the house he was leasing during his tenure at the school, followed close after by one of his students. He turned, with an uncommonly serious frown on his face, to look at said student -- a young man named Angelo Espinosa, who was a superhero(-in-training) under the codename Skin.
Upon spotting Bobby's expression, Angelo's face fell (rather dramatically, his skin being superhumanly stretchy).
"You didn't actually bring me here to play Super Plumber Planet 3, did you?"
"No, we'll get to that," Bobby assured him. "It's just that first, we have to have a really awkward conversation." He sighed deeply. "God willing, we will never have a conversation more awkward than the conversation we are about to have." He pointed at the couch. "Sit."
Angelo sidled warily over and sat. "Do you always babble when you're nervous?"
"Ohhh yeah. I think you'll understand when you find out our topic."
"Which is?"
"Sex."
"I'm not into dudes."
"That's not actually relevant." Bobby plopped into the armchair set perpendicular to the couch. "This isn't a come on; Sean manoeuvered me into this, so just bear with me, or Emma's going to do something probably fairly humiliating to me, and possibly you."
Angelo wove his fingers together nervously. "You're kinda freakin' me out, here, dude."
"Sorry. Look -- would I be correct in assuming that you haven't had sex since coming to this school?"
Angelo's expression shuttered. "There are some very fine chicas on my team," he said warily, "but we all have to balance being teammates with --"
Bobby held up a hand to stem this flow of prevarication. "You lose control of your powers when you get too into it, right?"
Scowling, Angelo grudgingly admitted, "...That, too."
"I can help you with that."
Angelo breathed a curse, then demanded, " How?"
"Let me show you something." Bobby picked up a rubber ball from the objects cluttering his coffee table. He held it up between forefinger and thumb so Angelo could see it clearly. Then he froze it so suddenly and to such a low temperature that it instantly shattered. Angelo shivered as the pieces hit the floor.
"When I lose control," Bobby said quietly, "I produce subzero cold. Fatal to anyone in the same room with me, disasterously fatal to anyone touching me." He pointed at Angelo. "You can train yourself to not lose control during sex. In my case, latex -- very temperature sensitive, easy to get as gloves and condoms. For you, I would suggest similar, but with polyurethane. Not as stretchy -- it'll help you keep your shape."
Angelo looked anywhere but at Bobby. "That only helps with some... parts."
"The principle holds. Wear restrictive clothing? The important part is to make sure you won't hurt your lovers. The rest, you deal with as it comes. No pun intended." That at least won a snort.
Bobby clapped his hands on his thighs and then stood. "So! I'm gonna go fetch us snacks until I stop blushing. Feel free to set up the game."
Angelo nodded and scooped up the TV remote. When Bobby had just reached the archway into the kitchen, he called out, "Hey."
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. Good luck."
They never spoke of it again.
.
Cross-posted at frozen_breaths.
Fandom: Generation X, during that period when Bobby was teaching at the Snow Valley school.
Summary: Sometimes, being a mentor sucks, or, Sex Education, mutant-style.
Author's Notes: No, this is not a Bobby/Angelo fic.
The Iceman, in his guise as Bobby Drake, teacher of Basic Accounting at the Massachusetts Academy (secret annex of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, of which Iceman/Bobby Drake was an alumnus), walked into the house he was leasing during his tenure at the school, followed close after by one of his students. He turned, with an uncommonly serious frown on his face, to look at said student -- a young man named Angelo Espinosa, who was a superhero(-in-training) under the codename Skin.
Upon spotting Bobby's expression, Angelo's face fell (rather dramatically, his skin being superhumanly stretchy).
"You didn't actually bring me here to play Super Plumber Planet 3, did you?"
"No, we'll get to that," Bobby assured him. "It's just that first, we have to have a really awkward conversation." He sighed deeply. "God willing, we will never have a conversation more awkward than the conversation we are about to have." He pointed at the couch. "Sit."
Angelo sidled warily over and sat. "Do you always babble when you're nervous?"
"Ohhh yeah. I think you'll understand when you find out our topic."
"Which is?"
"Sex."
"I'm not into dudes."
"That's not actually relevant." Bobby plopped into the armchair set perpendicular to the couch. "This isn't a come on; Sean manoeuvered me into this, so just bear with me, or Emma's going to do something probably fairly humiliating to me, and possibly you."
Angelo wove his fingers together nervously. "You're kinda freakin' me out, here, dude."
"Sorry. Look -- would I be correct in assuming that you haven't had sex since coming to this school?"
Angelo's expression shuttered. "There are some very fine chicas on my team," he said warily, "but we all have to balance being teammates with --"
Bobby held up a hand to stem this flow of prevarication. "You lose control of your powers when you get too into it, right?"
Scowling, Angelo grudgingly admitted, "...That, too."
"I can help you with that."
Angelo breathed a curse, then demanded, " How?"
"Let me show you something." Bobby picked up a rubber ball from the objects cluttering his coffee table. He held it up between forefinger and thumb so Angelo could see it clearly. Then he froze it so suddenly and to such a low temperature that it instantly shattered. Angelo shivered as the pieces hit the floor.
"When I lose control," Bobby said quietly, "I produce subzero cold. Fatal to anyone in the same room with me, disasterously fatal to anyone touching me." He pointed at Angelo. "You can train yourself to not lose control during sex. In my case, latex -- very temperature sensitive, easy to get as gloves and condoms. For you, I would suggest similar, but with polyurethane. Not as stretchy -- it'll help you keep your shape."
Angelo looked anywhere but at Bobby. "That only helps with some... parts."
"The principle holds. Wear restrictive clothing? The important part is to make sure you won't hurt your lovers. The rest, you deal with as it comes. No pun intended." That at least won a snort.
Bobby clapped his hands on his thighs and then stood. "So! I'm gonna go fetch us snacks until I stop blushing. Feel free to set up the game."
Angelo nodded and scooped up the TV remote. When Bobby had just reached the archway into the kitchen, he called out, "Hey."
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. Good luck."
They never spoke of it again.
.
Cross-posted at frozen_breaths.