Hya, everyone, Felidae is back with a little fluff.
This one goes to the youngest original X-Man, Bobby, aka Iceman,
someone I rarely pay much heed in my fics, so I decided, to give
him a little more attention.

Summary: Bobby longs for a certain someone…

Disclaimer: Aren't you fed up of reading these? It's all Marvel's and actually, they should
pay me for advertising…

Reviews: My daily bred. Please, lots even flames, anything…do I sound desperate?
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Being my unreasonable self
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All he ever got, were these rare mornings, watching the sun kiss the dew from the flowers.

Sighing, Bobby watched the love of his heart from afar.
He would never forget the first time he laid eyes on this wonderful man,
he was all muscles, wary and attitude, yet, hidden below the hardened exterior, there
was a tenderness in his deep voice and a such profound loneliness in these
normally distant eyes, Bobby was more than once tempted to reach out
and give him the needed comfort.
Of course, this would never happen, since his love was a warrior born, used to
help others rather than accept help.
And he was more than a private person, keeping his feelings bottled up inside.
'Typically macho', most others said.
'Typical for a person, who has been hurt in the worst of ways too
many times to count. He's just protecting himself'
thought Bobby, as he watched the centre of his universe run his daily twelve miles.

Every movement was powerful, yet smooth, his whole body screamed
'long-distance runner', and Bobby craved these rare moments, when he could
watch 'his' man -he smiled at the possessive pronouns-lost in his routine.
Since long Bobby had burned every single flex of muscle, every hard corded
sinew into his mind, he knew, which direction the sweat-drops took, once they had
passed the bulge of his trapeze muscle, when he drew a breath, how he pursed his
lips when letting the used air out in a puff.
The dark curls on his broad chest lay matted on the tanned, glistening skin, and
Bobby swallowed hard, when he saw the tight spandex shorts stretching over the small,
well-shaped ass, accenting every movement.
Summoning his whole will, he tore his eyes away from the distracting view, and
concentrated instead on the black mane framing the always slightly
frowning features, which were so entirely male.

Slowly, he descended from his adrenaline high, as he jogged the last few meters
of his final lap, then bent over and rested his sweaty palms on his thighs.
He loved this daily work-out, it let him come to terms with himself, cleared his mind and
helped him work out some of the anger, he carried around with him.
Standing upright, he started stretching, when he noticed Bobby sitting on the
bench at the lakeside, watching him intently.
Frowning, he dropped his arms, then headed towards the younger team-mate.

He had seen him!
Oh god, he was coming in his direction!
What to do, what to say, how to react?
Bobby gulped several times, then decided, being his own, smart-assed self
was the best solution.
He craned his neck, to gaze into his beloved one's eyes-and oh, what wonderful eyes they
were-and asked with all the smuttiness he could muster:
"What's up, big guy?"
His opposite furrowed a brow and asked back:
"Why are you watching me?"
Shit, so he 'had' noticed-of course he had, he was a warrior, a soldier after all.
'Be smart, Bobster, just let your mouth do the talking!'
"Just wondered, with this heat, how could anybody sane consider doing laps voluntarily?"
'Good, very good, Bobby, just be yourself!'

He knew, what would come, and yes, there it was:
With a scowl, the other man placed his large hands on his hips and rumbled:
"It wouldn't hurt you, Iceman, to do a little more for your physical shape as well, it's
not like our enemies are waiting for good weather to execute their plans."
Waving a dismissing hand, Bobby stretched languidly, and yawned:
"Believe me, Mags couldn't show his ugly face by these temperatures, without risking a
stroke."
Rolling eyes, exasperated huff, the shaking of the heavy wild hair…Bobby felt a shiver
crawling up his spine, and had to fight with the stir in his groin.
"You really are one of a kind, Robert Drake."
Smiling smugly, Bobby sighed:
"True, true, I am the master prank and king of cool. There is no denying that."
Another frustrated sigh, heaving the broad chest to full extent, and Bobby's
mouth suddenly turned into the desert Gobi.
"Whatever you say, Bobby, whatever you say."
A swerve, all strength and smoothness, and Iceman got a nice view on the
firm buttocks, as the core of his dreams walked away from him.

Someday, maybe, someday, he would be brave enough to confess his love.
Until then, all he had, were these rare mornings, watching Bishop run past.


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Hehehee, surprise, surprise-not really the usual pairing, now is it?