Title: Innocence
Normal or Sexual: Normal
Rating: PG
Warning: None, really. Yaoi.
Fandom: X-Men
Pairing: BeastIceman
Notes: There is a picture of the Beast in bunny slippers, so... yeah.
Disclaimer: I Don't own.
This is one of 100 Normal Themes I'm doing. Each Theme has a different slash yaoi or yuri pairing, and are one to three pages long. X-Men. Check my page for more as I upload them.
To be completely honest, Bobby had always hoped that he would die first. It wasn't that he wanted to inflict pain on anyone! No, not at all. But...
He didn't want to be alone again.
It didn't take a genius to figure out why they had gotten together the first time. Loneliness after years of being tormented on one side, and being chased from his own home on the other, it was just something that matched out. Bobby had once thought of it as a destiny giving them a push, only to scoff at his own mind and thoughts.
Destiny? No. Evolution? Yes.
Oh certainly, it had helped that he had been needy for any attention given to him in that way, after far too long being afraid of his own body and mind, but still. It wasn't something that the mutant could comprehend, even after centuries of trying to puzzle it out.
Bobby had been desperate. But what else was there? Friendship, love, sex... Innocence? Not hardly, at least, he never thought so.
He sighed, icy body leaned against what had once been his home and looked at the sky, dyed deep, vibrant reds and yellows. In his lap sat a box of pictures of those that had been his friends and family, all of them long past the point of being 'dead.' A few of the ancient artifacts crumbled when he picked them up, mostly the ones from before his time as a fighter for peace, others though were still in mostly perfect shape, such as the one he held in his hand.
At one point, when it was suggested that his powers made him damned near immortal, he laughed. Nervously, slightly terrified, he still laughed. Him, immortal? Please.
As it was, he didn't laugh anymore, or even speak for that matter. There had been a few mutants to gain extended longevity, and even one or two that had gained enough power to still be around as he was, but they didn't talk either. Most of the time, thoughts and emotions had been enough to spread them out, as far away from each other as possible.
That, and his human form had long ago been impossible to slip back into, until it was nothing more then a memory.
Cold eyes, always cold because they could no longer be anything other, stared at each picture as his touch froze it into a thin sheet, before he tossed it aside to shatter into nothingness. He hated most of them, shots of the groups of teens they had painstakingly trained in both body and mind, only to be killed all because of hate and betrayal.
It was the last picture that Bobby stopped at.
The person in the picture, canine fangs, muscular body, blue fur, was curled up in a comfy chair with a cup of some brew or another, a book of Japanese poetry, and was wearing pajamas... as well as bunny slippers. Hank never looked better.
Seeing Hank, the Beast, wearing his favorite apparel, had Bobby closing his eyes, head leaned back against titanium. How many years had he gone to bed next to that warm body? How many times did they have to practically stitch their fingers together while trying to make slippers when a pair died?
Because, seriously, they had never made them in Hank's size.
And Hank had always been one to believe that wearing bunny slippers could make anyone innocent. It was like they brought the child out in anyone who wore them to the mutant.
Bobby's lips twitched into the tiniest of smiles and he pressed the picture over his chest, freezing it to him, over the spot were his heart would have been if he'd still had one. He looked up at the sky again, smile growing a little as he noted that the yellow had turned orange, and the red black.
The planet, dead, would be scheduled for destruction at any time. Most of what was left of the population had already left, and those staying chose to die with their home. Bobby hoped he'd be able to die finally.
He was still smiling when the explosions started, hand over the picture glued to his chest.
Hank had always known what he'd been talking about, so perhaps, even if he was only wearing a picture, some of that innocence would be given to him, and he would be able to see the blue fur ball again.