Part Three
Legals: Same
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There was a pit in his stomach when he got out of bed the next morning, ignoring the sounds of bickering already starting down in the kitchen. Without bothering to check on why the house was rattling in its rotting foundation, he slid into the shower, letting the warmth cleanse off the cover of film he had been feeling on his skin since the night before.
Since she kissed him.
Kissing Boom Boom was as about as exciting as watching bread go to mold. There was the beginning...and then there was the end, and the end was far more rewarding than the beginning. Only when bread was done molding, you could make medicine. When you were done kissing Tabitha, you felt dirty.
And not just dirty in the way that you hadn't taken a bath in three weeks. Dirty in way that you, your body, your psyche was tarnished from even callowing those overly-rouged lips touch your lips. Lips that had to touch the food that went into your body, nourishment. That too was tainted, twisted, wrong.
He scoured his face again, letting the feel of the lipstick and perfume-y badness slide down into the drain at his feet. Again, the house rocked in its foundation, battle cries sounding. The lights flickered a little.
Kick her ass, Pietro. he declared mentally. Last night, when the bad things were happening, his mind kept wandering around. He wondered about Kitty for awhile, wondered what she would think if she came in on this. And he thought about Pietro. He didn't want Pietro to ever see this. He didn't want the other boy to ever find out. And when he thought about the boy, he felt guilty.
And he shouldn't have felt that way. Pietro and he were friends in the most platonic sense of the word. They never even touched each other, outside of the typical interaction. He'd get annoying; Lance would shove him. Lance would get annoying; Pietro would smack him in the back of the head. Normal, happy types of interaction.
But there was a deeper feeling to him, something that surged just below the surface. When Tabby wasn't around and her voice wasn't grating him down the path to suicide, he could think about it. And the more he thought about it, the less he liked it, raving mad inside to escape the desire burning inside of him every moment of the day. The only thing he wanted in the world was right in front of him. He could walk right through the bathroom door, taste it, and go right on living.
If only he could let himself have it. If only he didn't crave distraction from these feelings...
If only distraction wasn't so easy to find, smashing itself in his face. Sometimes it was Kitty. Sometimes it was another girl. Lately it had been Tabitha. She was there. And she stopped him from letting the little synapses of his brain from starting to connect. Of course it never stopped the sickened feeling he got when ever he was near Pietro. Not sickened, really, but he liked to think of it like that.
With a sigh, he turned the taps off, wiping the mirror off as he fumbled around for his tooth brush and then his razor. The battle downstairs was quiet, partially because Freddy was awake by now. Annoying Freddy this early in the morning was a death wish waiting to happen. And he caught himself wondering whether or not Tabby was going to get to that level yet.
He dressed quickly, combing his hair as he thumped down the stairs and into the living room to look at his team. They were all dressed by now, Pietro playing with his bangs. Todd was currently coughing up a storm, Boom Boom doing her part to ruin the ozone layer as she sat beside him. "Why aren't you on the bus?"
She blinked, "I thought we could drive to school together, just the two of us. The guys won't mind." The glares of the Brotherhood said otherwise, though Pietro turned away quickly.
"Tab, look, I can't take you today. Fred can't fit through the isles--"
"And whose fault is that!?" She stood, brows raised into her bangs and hands on those henious hips.
"It's my mutation" The boy rose to his full hieght before Lance had a chance to calm him.
"Whatever." Gum snapped, pink bubble forcing out from between her lips. He resisted the urge to pop it. Had to resist the urge.
"Anyway, and I need to talk to them about stuff."
"What sort of 'stuff'?" Why couldn't she just go away?
"Guy stuff. Grab you shit and get on the bus, or you're walking." The look she sent him was scathing with anger, hands clenched on either side of her. And when the door slammed, her heavily stomping boots making their way down the path as the bus drew closer to the boarding house, three pairs of eyes swivelled onto him.
"I though you had a thing goin' with her. Ain't she gonna be a little pissed that you left her?" There was a suspicious look on the youngest boy's face, voice guarded against his leader. Angry to an extent.
Fred nodded, "You sure you don't wanna run after her?"
And Pietro said nothing, eyes like flecks of frosted blue glass, unreadable. There wasn't even an expression on the pale face. "Are we even doing anything later anymore?"
Lance blinked, stung by the flatness in his friend's voice, "Just because Tabby and I have a thing going doesn't mean that I'm gonna ditch you. We're doing something."
And the boy nodded, unfolding his lithe form on the couch for a moment, forcing himself out of the tiny postition that he'd been forced into when there were four on the couch. Each movement seemed agonizingly slow, especially for him, yet graceful, poised. Catlike. And he couldn't tear his eyes away as the boy continued his stretching, a weird sort of smile on his delicately-defined face.
Lance's fist balled at his sides as he watched this almost perverted display. He realized then exactly how tight Pietro's jeans were, hugging to almost ever inch of his legs. And the postitions he could manage. And positions led to thoughts that he would never repeat but let himself travel with, just this once.
There was a silence in the room then, the only sound was Pietro's soft, even breathing as he finished this little show and slid down off the couch, looking at Lance. His head was still too fogged to realize much else than that, not hearig a question though he was vaguely aware that Todd's lips were moving.
Long, tender fingers shook his shoulders before he could blink, the boy he'd just been...could he say oogling? standing inches between their bodies. A precious little space, "Lance?"
The moment shattered then, shrugging the hands away and nodding to his other friends. Nice friends. Nothing to oogle. And not oogling other guys was very good right now. Good. Yes. "C'mon. Can't be late for school or Kelly will want to talk to our guardian again." He forced himself to walk out the door and to not notice the wierd, triumphant smile Pietro was wearing.
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He grinned again as he closed his locker at the end of the day, ignoring the barrage of questions coming from Kitty-Kat. She, unforunately, was in his math class and had beem assigned to tutor him. Oh, joy of joys on high as angels sing of golden triumph. It was going to screw with his plans. Definetly, definetly, definetly screw with his plans.
"So, like, what are you doing today afterschool?" She bubbled in that slight nauseating way, not be confused wih the extremely nauseating way Tabitha bubbled. Kitty was...sweet like carmel apples and taffy. Sweet but with a funny after taste and a headache that would last for the better part of an hour.
Besides, she was competition.
"Lance and I are doing something." He said it as quickly as possible, smoothing his bangs back against his head. They didn't stay too well.
Her face fell, but nose crinkled. Good sign. If he could weasel his way in there when Lance wasn't mooning over the girl... "Oh. Well, like, tommorrow's free in my book, but I'll, like, be totally busy after that."
"Tomorrow sounds good." She turned away for a moment, then bit her lip, "Hey, Pietro..."
"Yeah?" His head was in his locker, shoving books around. Not really paying attention. Wishing she'd just go away.
"Are you going to the dance on Friday?"
Paper was still rustling in the locker, "Maybe. Not sure yet." There was a dance on Friday?
"Yeah...well, uh...like I was wondering....if maybe you'd, like, want to go with me and junk? I mean, as friends or kinda friends or just there to have fun. I don't mean you'd like have to be my date or anything, just, like, you know, go to dance and have fun and then you'd go back to being evil and I'd go back to, like, being an X-man. Nothing would change....so, like, would you?"
The boy blinked, looking at her with wide eyes. And then he looked over her shoulder. Lance was coming down the hallway then, Boom Boom hanging off of his arm. His brows drew together. "Sure, Kitty." He declared, much louder than he needed to, voice echoing off the halls. "I'll go with you."
And the reaction was well anticipated, dark brown eyes widening slowly as Kitty giggled a thanks and skipped off. He knew she was just using his status as a sophomore to go. He wasn't that stupid. Besides, the combination of confusion and anger on his friend's face was just too sweet. ot to mention the way Tabitha slid her hands down onto her hips, sticking her lower body even more out of joint as she pouted.
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"And he said yes!" Lance slammed his fist down on the metal bleacher, glaring at Fred. He ignored the mildly amused expression on his friend's face, putting his head in his hands, "Everyone knows I had my sights on Kitty--"
"But you're going out with Tabby." The amused look grew slightly more annoying, but still good natured.
Still, the boy became flustered, "We're not going out. It's a fling, a stint to make Kitty jealous." Yes, that sounded good. Never mind the fact that he had absolutely no intention of asking Kitty out anymore. Never mind that he was a little more upset that Pietro had the date. All that mattered was his life absolutely sucking at the moment.
"Maybe it worked a little too well. She did ask out one of your best friends." Fred looked off into the distance for a moment, "Of course, then again, maybe she's been after him all along."
His eyes widened, Trifling bitch! "What do you mean?"
And the boy gave him a gentle smile, "Lance, look. Kitty is a freshman; Pietro's a sophmore. Them going out in a lasting relationship is a lot more likely than it would be if it were you and Kitty. More socially acceptable than a big, bad senior carting around a baby freshman."
"But...but..." He frowned, "I still can't believe he said yes."
"Then maybe you should have explained why you've been treating him like shit."
"I have not!" The past few weeks flew before his eyes, mind suddenly registering all the hurt looks Pietro had given him when Tabitha grabbed him away. Or the way his eyes had actually sparkled with happiness for a brief second when Lance suggested doing something today. And just how very little Pietro had been annoying him since the girl showed up on their doorstep. There hadn't been teasing or playfullness. Just...Tabitha.
He kinda missed being annoyeds by Pietro.
Fred nodded, rolling his eyes, "Right, Lance..."
One hand slid into his loose hair, "Okay, so I have. I should be shot because I've been such an ass to him. I will sacrifice myself to the altar of Pietro. But....he still said yes!"
"And I say yes too, Rocky." The blonde girl that he was trying to avoid, slid into his lap, throwing her arms around his neck, "'Cuz I know that you were going to ask me. Hey, maybe we can rent a nice movie afterschool today, watch it on Mysti's big ol' wide screen. Just the two of us in that big ol' ro--"
He unwrapped her arms, "Can't. I've got plans with Pietro."
And there was no denying the look of stormy anger that crossed her face as she pulled herself away, hands on hips. "Pete!? Excuse me, but is your little friend more important to you than our relationship? Seriously, you'll see him at home. He never fucking goes anywhere, no job, nothing."
"Pietro and I haven't had a chance to talk because of you and me going out." The words left a sourness to his lips and a pit in his stomach. But he pressed on, reguardless, "Pietro's dad won't let him get a job. And he pays for Pietro's part of the groceries and the heating and everything, so leave him alone."
"Just because Big Daddy pays his prissy-prick son's way through life doesn't mean you always have to defend him!" The usually some-what-pretty face was twisted into a scowl, "You're always cutting me off when I try--"
"I think you're jealous, Tabitha." Fred's voice was low, soft when he said it, though it cut through hers like a knife. "And if you keep acting like that, maybe you should be."
And she froze, mouth in a Maybe Maroon circle of shock, then closed, and opened again, words trying to make it out from inside his throat, everything stuck there, refusing to budge. She shot him a hateful look as Lance bit back a laugh. Then it was like a light turned on within her, entire body jumping to life, "Lance...you're not...he's....But....LANCE!?"
He grinned, taking satisfaction from her apparent distress, "I'm not gay. Look, I'll see you when we get home. We're going to the dance, remember?"
With a sigh she nodded, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before running back to the fast and furious four-square game she'd skipped away from. And he fell back agains the bleachers with a slight grin, "Thanks for making something up, Freddy. I didn't know how to get rid of her."
There was a moment as the bell rang, and his friend rose, "I wasn't making that up. I think she has a reason to be jealous."
And Lance just blinked, then walked away from Fred, eyes wider than dinner plates
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Whoo...Slash is good for the sick. Kinda like chicken soup. ^_^