Building Neptune

Chapter Ten: "Freestyle through Flotsam"

Their sleep had been sporadic at best, but even though his head seemed filled with fuzz when he awoke, John was feeling more relaxed than he had in weeks. Months, even. The guy was a fucking incredible lay. Though, being a retired working boy and all, he wasn't exactly surprised. He knew what he was doing, but, more than that, well…

Well, Toad was a fucker, but he wasn't wrong. There was a certain familiarity that he found comforting, for lack of a better word. The eyes were a bit deeper and his voice a bit too effeminate and he was fucking skinny whereas Bobby was a bit boxier, built like a swimmer. But it was pretty damn uncanny anyway.

At one point, he'd had Cal on his elbows and knees underneath him. His arms had given out and his face was pressed into the comforter, and John stretched out over that long, muscled back, one hand tangled in that mussed-up, sweat slicked, dirty blond hair, his hips snapping forward steadily. And it was almost perfect. Almost.

Leaning forward over his back, mouth running up the length of his spine, John stopped short at a series of raised lines just below his neck. He pulled back to look at them, slowing just slightly. He ran his fingers over the letters. FAG. Cal went silent, his hands fisting in the blankets. He closed his eyes. For a moment, he considered asking about it. Or maybe just ignoring it. Instead, he ducked his head back down and ran his tongue lewdly over the scars, sucking his way from them up the back of his neck to the underside of his jaw, by his ear. Cal was shaking, a low whimper of his name on his lips.

No, he wasn't perfect, but he sure as hell was close. He was familiar, and that's what he was after, anyway, not the genuine article.

Because, fuck the genuine article.

Cal mumbled and rolled over, eyes still closed. "You're hell on my beauty sleep, you know," he yawned.

John chuckled groggily and stretched his arms over his head. He felt sticky and sleepy and yet, even after an entire night of fucking, was definitely sporting some morning wood. He felt Cal shift closer to him on the bed, skin pressing against his side, mouth moving along his neck.

"I think I can forgive you, though."

"Oh yeah? Good. I was worried." He ducked his head down and caught him in a kiss.

Cal moved on top of him, movements in slow-motion like moving through molasses, limbs achy and heavy from their night's activities. They made out despite morning breath, hands sliding over sweat-soaked skin. Cal reached for the bedside table for another condom.

"I think there's some more lube in the other drawer."

"M'fine. We fucked like two hours ago."

"Nuh-uh. It's nine-thirty. It's been at least three hours."

He slid the condom on. Cal pressed him down into the bed, hands balancing on John's shoulders as he lowered onto him. His head fell back and he gasped. "John."

x

Bobby wasn't an idiot. He knew Cal hadn't actually cleared his night's excursion with a teacher like he'd told him to. And he wasn't all that shocked when Cal wasn't home by curfew. So, being the wonderful roommate that he was, he covered for him.

Except that Cal didn't come back at all that night.

He woke up around eleven, fully expecting Cal to be in his bed, where he belonged. Yeah, fine, his roommate didn't give a shit about curfew, and he wasn't about to come home at ten thirty on a Friday. He got that. But to stay out all night?

Bobby got out of bed and tugged his clothes on quickly. Suddenly it occurred to him that he had no idea who this guy was, that Cal probably had no idea who this guy was, and Cal didn't have a cell phone to call if he was in trouble, and he undoubtedly had never bothered to memorize the school's number. This guy could be some psycho government agent gathering up mutants to experiment on. Fuck, he was going to be in so much trouble for letting this happen.

Scott was talking to the Professor in his office with the door open. Bobby barged in without introduction. "Please don't kill me."

They weren't the first words Mr. Summers liked to hear from a student. "Yes, Bobby?"

He ran a hand through his hair and cringed as he spoke. "Cal went out last night. He had a date. I covered for him at curfew."

Mr. Summers and Xavier both frowned, eyes fixed on him.

"Except he's still not back, and he said it was just some random guy he met in town, and…well, that could be really, really bad."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Scott aimed a finger at him. "We'll talk about this later, Bobby." He wheeled the Professor out from behind his desk and into the hallway. "Cerebro, sir?"

"Yes, I think so."

They were just getting into the elevator when Bobby heard the front doors slam closed. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath. His teachers reemerged from the elevator, and he followed them from a distance to see how bad it was going to be.

Cal froze just inside the doorway, a deer in the headlights of Scott's gritted teeth and the Professor's disapproving frown. He was wearing a t-shirt a size too big for him, those ridiculous painted-on pants, and had his shirt, vest, and underwear from the night before balled up under his arm. His hair was wet, freshly washed. There were reddish-purple marks littering his neck. He took a few hesitant steps forward. And he was walking funny. Bobby slapped the heel of his hand into his forehead. This was bad. This was really bad.

"Um, good morning."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Scott snapped.

"Saying a few Our Fathers before you send me to Purgatory?" He was trying to lighten things up. That was the worst possible thing he could try to do right now.

"Where were you?"

Cal gave Bobby a questioning look, and Bobby nodded in response. Yeah, he'd told them.

"Look, we just went out for dinner and it was late, so I stayed the night."

"Yeah, it looks like it was an innocent slumber party."

Xavier put up a hand to cut Scott off. "Calin, we have rules here for a reason. You are officially in the school's custody now, and we are responsible for your safety. If you had gotten into trouble, we would have had no way of knowing. What on Earth makes you think this is acceptable behavior?"

Cal was blushing now, staring at the floor. "Uh, I just didn't think you'd notice, I guess. Or, I mean, I guess I didn't really think about it at all."

"This school has done a great many things for you, and we have been happy to do it. I should hope you would remember that in the future. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to. Scott, you can take it from here."

Bobby had pressed himself against the wall, trying to remain invisible. The Professor gave him a sharp look on his way past. Cal actually looked relieved at the Professor's departure, which was stupid, because now Scott had no reason to hold back.

"In my office. Now."

"Uh, do you think I could stop by my room first…?"

Scott gave him a deadly look and Cal shut up. He spun on his heel and stalked off down the hallway, Cal walking stiffly behind him. Once he was halfway down the hallway, Scott turned and looked at Bobby. "What, you think you're off the hook? I said, in my office."

Bobby grimaced and trailed after him, falling into step with his roommate's tight, careful gait. He leaned over casually, speaking low enough that Scott wouldn't hear. "You look like you broke your pelvis. I'm guessing you had a good time?"

Cal smirked and leaned back toward him. "Honey, I had five good times."

He put a hand up over his mouth to muffle a snort. Scott stopped at the door to his office and turned, glaring at them while they caught up. "Take a seat, both of you."

They shuffled into the office, Bobby dropping easily into one of the chairs in front of the desk. Cal lowered himself into his, wincing slightly. Bobby swore he saw Scott twitch at that. He walked around to stand on the other side of the desk. He frowned at Cal. "You look uncomfortable, Cal. Is something wrong?" His tone was cold and hard.

"I'm fine."

"Not hurt are you?" He was goading at him.

Cal's lip curled in annoyance. "Just had a good work out. You understand. I know how important physical fitness is to you."

"Really? You think now is the right time to be a smartass with me?"

"Well, what do you want me to say? I'm sore from getting fucked all night?"

"You watch your mouth."

Cal opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. He shook his head and leaned back.

"What the hell were you thinking? You know the rules here, Cal."

Cal snorted. "Let's not pretend you're upset that I broke the rules."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

Bobby spoke up. This wasn't somewhere he wanted to be going. "Cal, don't."

He turned on his roommate with a near snarl. "What the hell do you know about it, Bobby?"

There was a split second of heavy, silent communication between them. Bobby's face registered with a wave of hurt which quickly fizzled into panic, then near pleading before he masked it. Cal's eyes widened slightly, and he turned back to Scott. He'd failed to notice the exchange.

Cal cleared his throat. "It means you can be accepting 'til you're blue in the face, but when you actually have to see the reality that I fuck other men, I make you uncomfortable."

Scott gritted his teeth and leaned forward across his desk. "I think I've faced that reality quite well enough by now. Or did you forget that I found you passed out in a pool of blood with your pants around your knees?"

Bobby's eyes went wide and Cal blushed hard, sinking into his chair.

"That's what I thought."

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was going out. It was stupid."

"Who is this guy?"

"Just a guy I met." He deliberated for a moment. "Daniel." He'd had a friend at the club named Daniel. It would be easy to remember.

"So you know nothing about him, I'm guessing. And do I even want to know how much older than you he is?"

Cal brightened up a bit. "Believe it or not, he's actually my age!" Scott raised an eyebrow either in condescension or doubt. He subdued his expression and muttered, "I'm as surprised as you…"

"Why? How old was your last boyfriend?" Bobby sounded startled.

"He was only like twenty-five."

Scott snorted and sat down. "When you met him. When you were fifteen."

"Oh. Well." Bobby kept his eyes averted, sorry he'd drawn attention to himself.

"Bobby, I'm disappointed that you'd let this sort of thing happen. You know better."

"I know. I thought he would just come back later."

"Still. Why would you cover for him?"

Cal looked at him expectantly, cocking his head to the side. He shifted uncomfortably. "I dunno. You were just so happy about the whole date thing. And you haven't really been happy much since you moved in. I didn't want to wreck it."

His roommate's expression softened. "Mr. Summers, Bobby told me to clear it with one of you."

Scott sighed and looked between the two of them. "Okay. Cal, you're completely mansion-bound for the next two weeks. No shopping trips, no going out for food, nothing. After that, I don't want you to step foot off grounds without clearing it with a teacher. And no more sleepovers, period."

"What!"

"You were expecting different?"

"I'm not allowed to stay with a guy, what, ever?"

"That's what I'm saying."

Cal laughed. "If you don't want me having sex, just say that, okay?"

"I don't want you having sex."

"It's a little late for that one, Mr. Summers."

"You're seventeen, you're under our custody, and there are rules here. The behavior you've gotten away with in the city isn't acceptable here."

"Look, I get the rules. I do. If I got killed or something, it would be on you, so, yeah, I know I should tell you where I'm going. And, like, not drinking and illegal stuff like that is fine. But my personal relationships are none of your business. For Christ's sake, I've been having sex since I was thirteen. If I told you I was going to stop because you said to, I'd be lying."

"Well, then, we have a problem."

"Jesus, don't be such a prude!"

Bobby dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Cal…" he groaned.

Scott's stared at Cal for a long, silent moment. "You know, I don't know if I'm more disappointed that you're so dependent on sex or that you're running off and screwing some guy less than two months after you killed your last boyfriend."

Cal's mouth fell open. Wetness welled in his wounded eyes. He made a breathy, indignant noise, somewhere between a huff and a sob. "Fuck you." He stood and left the office. Scott didn't stop him.

Bobby kept his eyes fixed on the corner of Scott's desk, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. "Um. Can I…?"

"You're not off the hook completely here, Bobby." Scott's heart wasn't in it anymore, though. He'd crossed a line. He knew it. "You're grounded for the weekend and I'm holding you responsible for his whereabouts. If he sneaks out and you know about it, you're in it with him next time."

Bobby nodded vaguely.

"You can go."

x

"So why didn't you tell me?" By the time Bobby caught up with Cal in their room, the other boy had regained his composure somewhat.

Bobby closed the door. "Tell you what?"

"Why didn't you tell me you're queer?"

"What makes you think—?"

"Please, I saw the look on your face."

He opened his mouth to argue, and then closed it and sat on his bed. "I just…I like to keep it quiet, okay? It's not something I've dealt with all the way."

Cal studied him for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He sat on his bed, facing his roommate. "But you knew I'd get it, didn't you?"

"Yeah, sure, but what was I supposed to say? 'Hi, I'm your new roommate. You're gay? Hey, me too!' It just never seems to fit into conversation."

"How about, 'Hey, can I talk to you about something?' It's not that hard."

Bobby sighed and fell backward onto his bed. "It is. You don't get it. You're lucky. You're all up in people's faces about it. You have been for fucking ever. I've got this whole school-mascot perfect-student image built up around me from before I'd even admitted it to myself. I don't know how to fit this into all of that. I've tried. I just…It's Scott."

"Mr. Summers? What, you think he'd be mad or something?"

"No, but like you said, just because you accept something doesn't mean you're comfortable with it, and I don't want him looking at me differently. He's like my mentor or Yoda or something. And." He sat up suddenly, glaring and jabbing a finger toward Cal. "And if you tell anyone this next part ever, I will never forgive you, but…" His voice fell to a mumble. "Well, Scott was my first crush."

Cal was quiet for a moment before cracking up. "Aww! That's so cute!" he teased.

"Shut up, Cal!"

"I can see it now!" He stood up, gesturing grandly as he painted the picture. "Sweet, pubescent little Bobby sitting in class hiding a boner under his desk, staring wistfully at his rugged, gorgeous math teacher."

"I said, shut up! You're such a dick!" Bobby was fighting off a smile, though, shoving Cal so he toppled backward onto his bed. He was undeterred.

" And when he's called on to do a problem on the board, he has to cover himself with a painfully obvious notebook, praying that the hunky object of his affection doesn't notice!"

His roommate pounced, tickling his sides mercilessly. "Now you're gonna get it!"

Cal squirmed and laughed, trying to catch his breath. He shoved and flailed at him, somehow managing to yank him forward, kicking his legs out from under him so Bobby fell on top of him.

They both stilled, breathing heavily and staring at one another. Bobby finally broke the eye contact, laughing breathily as he turned his head. "Oh, Jesus." He got up, retreating to his own bed.

Cal snorted and smiled at him for a moment.

"So. How about what you didn't tell me?"

"About?"

"You killing your boyfriend."

"Right." His smile disappeared and he sat back up. "It's a really long story."

"Hey, we're both grounded. What else do we have to do?"

"Uh, well, I lived with Matt for like two years. It was great at first…"