Disclaimer:
I don't own the rights to anything other than my imagination.
Author's Note:
The story is Evietro (Evan/Pietro) slash, that means a male/male romantic relationship. If this bothers you please do not read this story. Rated for language, adult content, self-mutilation, abuse, and some random violence.
Denied Longings:Chapter One
Missing You
"Why can't you just back the fuck off and stay the hell out of my life?" Evan screamed as Pietro circled him at unbelievable speeds. Evan's spikes flew through the air where Pietro had been just seconds before.
Because I miss you and would rather fight with you than be ignored and forgotten again. Pietro thought to himself as he snatched up Evan's backpack. "Because I'm board and you're too slow to do anything about it "
"I hate you! You're nothing but a self-centered asshole." Evan sputtered, sending his spikes out in a random pattern in an attempt to get the speedster to back off. "I'm tired of this. Just leave me alone!
*sthwak*
The silver-haired boy came to a sudden stop, eyes wide with shock, gasping as he felt a bone shard sliced across his back. The bone left a stinging trail of blood as it cut into his skin. Another spike narrowly missed his chest. He actually cut me! Can't let him know it though. "Fine Daniels, I'll leave you alone." Pietro kicked into Quicksilver mode and was at the boardinghouse, up the stairs, and in his room before Evan blinked in surprise.
This shirt is trashed. Damn, my jeans are soaked too. He must have cut me deeper than I realized. Moving faster than the eye can see, the speed-demon pulled off the tattered T-shirt. Shit. I'm getting blood all over the carpet. The gypsy boy zipped into the bathroom to tend his back and change into clean clothes. I never thought he'd really hit me. Stupid, just because I don't want to hurt him We used to be friends.
*Flashback:*
The yard was small and well tended, so he wasn't allowed to do much of anything. He'd only been here two days and his English was broken at best so he didn't have any friends. I miss Wanda. I want my sister!
"Evan! How many times have I told you not to play so close to the street?" The sound of a scolding mother's voice brought Pietro's attention to the young boy playing on the sidewalk two houses over.
"Mom! I was staying on the sidewalk! I can't 'board on the grass." Evan complained.
"No. You will stay in the yard or you will come inside." Evan's shoulders slumped. His mother shook her head at the puppy-dog look and closed the door.
"But there's nobody to play with" Evan noticed the small skinny white boy staring his direction. He walked over through the grass. "Hi, I'm Evan. I live here. Who are you?"
"Pietro Maximof. I guess I live here too, now." The albino boy offered a shy grin.
"Oh, wanna play some b-ball?"
"What is 'bee ball'?" Pietro asked somewhat confused by the new word.
"B-ball, basket ball. Man, where are you from? Everyone knows what b-ball is. Where'd you get that funny accent?"
"What is basket ball? Romania, and what accent?" Pietro countered.
"Romania? Where's that? I'll show you what b-ball is! Come on." The New Yorker replied with a smile. Pietro was curious and lonely, so he followed. "This," the black boy scooped up a ball, "is a basket ball, the point of the game is to see who can make the most baskets." He tossed the ball into a net above the garage door.
*End Flashback*