Summery: Bobby and John get a little wet doing the dishes and find out how they really feel about each other. (Note: I guess you could say this is movieverse since John is a good guy here but that doesn't really matter…neither does when it took place)
Rating PG-13, maybe R…I dun know. You tell me.
Category: X-Men. Smut and Slash.
Disclaimer: I don't any Bobby or John nor do I own Hank, Logan, :sniffles unhappily: Kurt, or Remy.
The Romance of Dishes
Bobby Drake rummaged through the kitchen cabinets, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he searched for the treasure that lay somewhere buried in the cupboard.
"Come on, mate," sighed John, "Could we please start washing these dishes sometime in this millennia."
"Relax, John," replied Bobby, quickly glancing back at John who had begun to fill the left side of one of the empty double sinks with water, "I can't work on an empty stomach."
"Empty stomach?! You just finished off four helpings of the Cajun's gumbo and you're still hungry?" cried John with a hint of laughter in his voice.
"Dessert, dude! I'm hungry for Twinkies," said Bobby, pulling out the remaining box of his favorite sweet, "Good! I was afraid Blue might've gotten his paws on the last box."
Grinning, Bobby carefully, as if it were a ceremony, opened the box and took out a Twinkie. With an equal amount of care he slowly unwrapped the golden sweet. Then, all solemnity gone, he stuffed the snack food into his mouth.
"Want one?" asked Bobby, holding out the box to John. Well, that's what he would have said if his mouth hadn't still been crammed full with food. Instead it sounded more like, "Mwant pwone?"
John, who had been around long enough to learn how to understand 'mumble', knew exactly what had been said, "No thanks, I think I'll pass. Can we please do the dishes now?"
"Alright, more for me" said Bobby with a shrug as he downed yet another one of Twinkies.
"What the hell!" cried John, snatching the box away from Bobby and tossing it on the counter behind them, "Do you ever stop eating? No, don't answer that. Just help me with the dishes."
Scowling, Bobby moved to stand beside John and leaned against the counter, one of his hands resting on the edge of the sink.
"Stop glaring," said John, not even looking up at Bobby as he poured some soap into the water filled sink, "And give me a hand."
A devilish grin broke across Bobby's features and he released his mutant powers, freezing the both the water in the sink and the water coming out of the faucet. He stifled a laugh as John slowly turned to look at him and then innocently looked away, whistling.
"Dammit, Iceman," growled John, pulling out his lighter and flicking it open.
"What?" Bobby asked innocently as he turned to watch the Pyro at work.
He would never tell John but he found his fire manipulation powers amazing. He loved, watching the boy take complete control over something so untamable and wild. The small flame flared up as John known as Pyro to the X-Men called upon his mutation to wield fire and melted the ice, turning it back to water.
"Stop fooling around, Bobby," said John, smiling slightly over at Bobby as he pocketed his lighter.
"Aw, chill out," replied Bobby, grinning broadly, "Stop acting like Scott and have a little fun."
"Impossible," stated John, a grin threatening to break out on his face.
"What is?"
"For me to chill out."
"Ohh, Johnny, now that was bad," cried Bobby, "That was a horrible joke!"
"Shut your mouth," said John, washing the dishes, "And help me! Why am I washing the dishes alone?"
"Cause you're my fiery little slave boy?" suggested Bobby, grinning wolfishly.
FWAP! A wet and soapy sponge hit Bobby Drake square on the face as a reply to what Bobby had said. Bobby blinked as the sponge slid off of his face and landed on the floor with a splat. In a flash, Bobby snatched the small hose attached to the sink, aimed it at John, and hit him with a long spray of water.
John let out a strangled cry of shock and immediately retaliated by grabbing a cup filled to the brim with soapy water and throwing its contents at Bobby. Caught in surprise, Bobby dropped the hose and before he had a chance to react, he was hit with another wave of water from the drinking glass.
Sputtering, Bobby wiped the water away from his face, "Now that, my little slave boy, was totally uncalled for."
SMACK! A wet cloth followed the same path the sponge had made earlier. Bobby could hear John laughing and the sound of the faucet running. As the washcloth slowly slid off of his face he could see that the fire manipulator had gone back to washing the dirty dishes which meant he was now an inspecting victim.
"You got the floor soaked, you little ice princess," said John, smiling lightly.
With a grin that would have done the Cheshire Cat proud, Bobby quietly picked up one of the bowls that had already been washed and snuck over to one of the many sinks. He filled the bowl with water, trying not to laugh, and then slinked back over behind John.
"Bobby, what are you doing?" asked John, noticing it had become too quiet.
"Helping you chill off," replied Bobby and with that, he dumped the water from the bowl on top of John Allerdyce's head. "Bobby!" yelled John, whirling to face the brown haired mutant.
Letting out a battle cry, Bobby tackled John, sending them both tumbling onto the wet floor.
They landed on the floor, Bobby on top of John their noses practically touching. "You are so dead, snowman," snarled John and with all the strength he could muster, he rolled over, placing himself on top of Bobby.
The said 'Snowman' chuckled as John tried to hold him down, his hands sliding all over his wet, white t-shirt. Then with a growl of his own, Bobby wrapped his arms about John pinning him down to his chest and then rolled backwards, taking John with him. They landed so that Bobby sat atop John, straddling him at the waist.
In a sudden flurry, the two of them began tumbling about the room, rolling around on the wet floor as the vied for the control of holding the other one to the floor. To only to add to the watery destruction, water now spilled over the edges of the overflowing sink as the two boys, lost in their own game, wrestled. They toppled into the cabinets, sending pans scattering across the floor with noisy crashes, clangs, and the spraying of water from the puddles on the floor.
Bobby laughed, loving the feeling of John's body rubbing against his. The normal, rational thought of how they shouldn't be doing this and how he shouldn't be enjoying it were banished from his mind. He knew this was the only way he'd ever be this close to the Aussie, that this would be the only time he'd ever be able to imagine that they were together…that the mutant of his heart returned the affections and by hell he was going to enjoy it.
RIIIP! John stared in shock at the two pieces of white t-shirt he held in his hands. Smirking, John wrung one of the t-shirt halves out, the water splashing down onto the face of the mutant that lay below him.
"Sorry, Bobby," said John, looking down at the ice mutant, grinning.
Without thinking about the possible consequences, Bobby grabbed John by the collar of his shirt, pulled him down close, and kissed him roughly on the lips. And the reaction he got was not what he had expected. John fervidly returned the kiss, his tongue sliding along Bobby's bottom lip. Opening his mouth, and deepening the kiss, Bobby slid his hands underneath John's shirt, and ran them up and down the length of his back. He broke the kiss and slowly kissed down John's jaw line and neck, muttering 'I love you's' between each one.
Bobby let out a purr of pleasure as he felt John nip playfully at his neck and reply, "I love you too."
John's hands slide down Bobby's sides to his pants and swiftly unbuttoned them. He then slowly kissed up Bobby's stomach, stopping when he reached his lips and grinned. His eyes suddenly widened in shock and he cried out, "Hands! Bobby, you're hands!"
Bobby glanced down at his hands and winced in sympathy. They had iced over and the cold ice was resting on John's bare flesh. He muttered an apology, calling off the power that had caused his hand to ice up and moved them on the still clad behind of the fire mutant.
"You're lucky I love you," muttered John, grinning wolfishly as he leaned closer to kiss Bobby. Once they were kissing close he added with a toothy grin, "My icy little slave boy."
Bobby laughed, his voice echoing off the kitchen walls and then he tilted his head upwards, meeting John's lips in a slow kiss.
The kiss had just become more intimate and John's hands were slowly making their way down to Bobby's pants when a voice came from the doorway, "Oh my stars and garters…"
John and Bobby leapt up from their places on the floor, Bobby almost slipping on the wet floor and therefore had to grab onto John's arm for support. Bobby looked over at the big blue figure standing in the doorway, trying to imagine how this scene appeared to him. Not only was the room a mess with pans scattered about and the floor more like a swimming pool than anything but the two of them weren't very presentable, well Bobby wasn't presentable that is. He was shirtless and his pants, which were undone, were hanging dangerously low on his hips. Bobby had not planned on anyone walking in on them; he really needed to learn how to think things through before going ahead with them.
"Hank!" cried Bobby, "Well, we were…um. Well water got on the floor and we…"
"Were making passionate love on the kitchen floor," supplied John, now grinning for ear to ear.
"I-I was only l-looking for a snack," said Hank hurriedly and then he grabbed the Twinkies that still rested on the counter, "And here is a snack. Um, well, goodbye."
"Well there goes our fun," mumbled John, as he slipped an arm about Bobby's waist and turned to face the sink, "Back to the dishes…"
Sighing happily, Bobby kissed John on the cheek and finally started to give a hand with the dishes.
*****
Remy quirked a brow as he saw Hank hurry by, a box of Twinkies clutched in his hands and muttering quickly to himself about how he 'Just wanted a snack.'
"What's wrong with him?" asked the Cajun, turning back to look at Kurt and Logan.
Kurt shrugged his fuzzy shoulders, "One too many experiments? Affecting his brain, maybe"
Logan smiled secretively, his nose picking up what the 'problem' was, "Nah, Hank just never knew how romantic doing the dishes could be."