Hey all, here's the second and last chapter of this story. This is the part where I would usually thank my reviewers, but this time I didn't get any. Oh well. So read, enjoy, and please review! It makes me feel loved! Peace.
Peter sighed, dropping his paper cup into the nearest trashcan. Warren had been right about one thing; the lemonade did suck. He leaned moodily against the wall, watching the huge mass of bodies in front of him swaying to the beat of the pounding music that was making the walls shake.
He was having a great time, well he had been. The night had started out great, he and his group of friends together, dead in the middle of the crushing thong of bodies as they danced. But now things had mellowed out a bit, and people had started pairing off. The throng had separated some now, leaving room for couples to stand a little apart so as to be more intimate. And so, all of Peter's friends had disappeared with their dates. Even Rogue had found someone to disappear off someplace with. And he had been left a wallflower.
He was just considering calling it a night and going to bed when he started; he could have sworn he just saw a familiar flash of white out of the window. He stopped, watching the dark windows carefully, and sure enough, a few minutes later, a pale face was peeking in through one of them, but only for a minute before disappearing again.
Peter sighed, glanced back at the dance floor, and slowly wandered out of the room. He strolled out onto one of the balcony-like porches that speckled the front of the mansion and leaned against the railing, gazing up at the starry sky.
He didn't turn around when a soft whoosh of air hit him from behind, but he knew Warren was there.
Neither of them spoke for several minutes. At length Warren broke the silence, his voice soft, "You went after them."
"No," Peter corrected innocently, "They, err, ran into me, earlier."
"They ran into your fist," Warren said, his voice a strange mixture of surprise, anger, and sorrow.
"Several times," Peter admitted, he still hadn't turned to look at the other mutant.
"Why?" Warren's voice was so soft that Peter barely heard the question, and he could swear it was trembling slightly.
"I hate bullies," he shrugged, not directly answering, "They needed to be taught a lesson, and you obviously didn't intend to do it."
"No one's stood up for me like that before," Warren admitted.
Peter turned to look at him now, leaning his back against the railing and crossing his arms over his chest. "Maybe you should stick up for yourself then."
"I try," Warren mumbled, his toe absently picking at the ground, his eyes carefully trained on it, "I just… don't seem to be very good at it. I was never good at fighting, and the words just won't come. You have size and muscle on your side, all I have is my wings, only good for running."
"I didn't always," Peter told him, "I used to always get picked on when I was younger, that's why I hate bullies so much now. Then one day, I just got fed up. I got tired of people always stepping all over me, so I fought back. I made a point of knowing what I wanted and going out and getting it."
Warren moved slowly over to lean against the rail several feet to Peter's side, staring moodily up at the sky. "If only it was that easy," he snorted, but he glanced sideways at Peter and there was something odd in his blue eyes, a sort of uncertain longing.
"It could be," Peter told him, but Warren didn't respond. He seemed to be taking several deep breaths, his eyes darting back and forth as though arguing with himself. But Peter didn't notice this odd behavior and once more they lapsed into silence.
Peter listened absently to the music coming from the party inside. The tempo changed to a slow song. Yes, it had definitely become couples time, no point in going back inside.
Suddenly Warren stood away from the wall, and extended a slightly shaking hand toward Peter. "W-w-would l-l-like to d-dance-?" he ask, his voice faltering and unsure.
Peter blinked at him in surprise; he'd definitely not been expecting that, then smiled and took the offered hand.
Warren almost fell over from shock that he had accepted, which made Peter laugh and subconsciously pull the winged mutant closer.
And so they danced. They didn't speak for a long while. Warren simply stared up at Peter as though he believed that he was simply disappear any minute and he'd wake up from this dream, Peter enjoyed watching the expression, laughing silently, and deciding it was a very cute look.
The song ended, and Warren started to move away, but Peter held on as the next song started, another love song.
"Doesn't it bother you?" Warren asked quietly, his blue eyes staring up at Peter in confused disbelief.
"No," Peter said, "I told you, I don't care who your dad is."
"That… isn't what I was talking about," Warren whispered, his eyes now studying the ground again shyly.
"What then?" Peter asked, craning his neck to try and get Warren to look at him.
"It- doesn't it bother you that I'm a-a guy?" Warren's voice cracked as he said it, trembling a little.
Peter stopped dancing, completely taken aback by the question. Warren stood back quickly as though Peter had burned him, the look of horror, regret, and terror that flashed through his eyes telling Peter that he was instantly wish he hadn't said anything.
"I hadn't really thought about it," Peter admitted thoughtfully, "Honestly, I have haven't been able to think about much but your eyes since last night, and your voice, and your…" Peter trailed off, deciding it would be better just to shut up.
Warren shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to the other, still refusing to meet Peter's eyes.
"Have you ever danced with a boy before?" Peter asked at last, partly just to break the silence and partly out of curiosity.
"No," Warren admitted in a mumbled whisper, "But I've wanted to."
"Why didn't you?" Peter asked. He took a slow step forward, wanting to continue dancing.
Warren shrugged, "They all either hated me because of my wings, or because I my dad wants to get ride of them."
"I don't hate you," Peter said, taking another step.
"I still can't figure out why," Warren mumbled, looking at the ground again. He seemed to do that a lot.
Peter took another step forward, gently placing a large hand under Warren's delicate chin, forcing the other boy to meet his eyes. "Well, you know what? I've decided that I don't care you're a boy. Dancing with you has just become on of my favorite things to do. So as long as you want a partner, I'll be happy to dance with you."
Warren's eyes widened in shock. "R-really?" he stammered, his eyes desperately searching Peter's face as though expecting him to suddenly burst out laughing and yell, "Got you!" at him.
Peter nodding, smiling. "And you know what else I think I'll like doing?" he asked, his eyes dancing with humor at Warren's expression.
Warren opened his mouth and said, "What?" but no sound came out as Peter leaned in closer, gently capturing Warren's lips with his own.
Warren's knees gave out with shock, but Peter just laughed into the kiss and swept Warren into his arms, twirling him around. He set the winged mutant down again and with drew, grinning like an idiot.
"Wanna dance?" he asked breathlessly, and without even waiting for an answer pulled Warren close to him again, teasingly kissing him on the nose.
Warren looked like he could die of joy. But he didn't, he just laughed and clung to Peter, blushing like mad.
Finis.
