WARNING: Slash. M/M affection. If this bothers you, leave now, because I don't want any stupid flames about the slash.
AN: Sorta goes with X2. But no real spoilers.
Dancing About Architecture
by sugar.coated
*Like a voice in the wind blow little crystals down. . . Like brittle things will break before they turn. . . Like lipstick on my cigarette. . . And the ice gets harder overhead. . . . Like think it twice but never never learn. . .*
And some time between late and early, John started to notice the way Bobby looked.
A Friday night movie marathon at the institute that'd reached the point where most of the kids had gone to bed, all but collapsing on the spot. None of the remaining teenagers had the energy to get up and change the movie when it ended, which resulted in them sitting in the semi-dark watching the static on the screen with glazed over eyes. John was only awake because of the caffeine that was still present in his blood stream, just barely keeping him on this side of sleeping, and even Bobby, who slept much less than other boys in their late teens, was starting to doze off.
Rogue had gone to her room a long time ago, not appreciating the wonders of Star Wars, James Bond and bad horror movies, leaving the two boys comfortably sprawled out on a couch together, legs tangling in the aftermath of a kick fight to get as much space as possible. Candy had been eaten, hyperness had followed, and as result they hadn't cared about the closeness of their bodies like they probably would have otherwise. And now John was off his latest caffeine buzz, induced by one too many Dr. Pepper ("'Soft drink with plant extract'," he had quoted off the can to Bobby when he got bored with watching Pierce Brosnan kick ass. "Why do they have plant extract in it?" "Maybe it's for the vegetarians," Bobby had mused, then returned to James Bond worshipping), and he saw Bobby in a different light. Both metaphorically and literally.
It wasn't that he didn't know what his friends looked like. He still remembered some of the guys he'd hang out with during his former life, and some he could even describe so others would be able to recognize them in a not-too-big crowd. "Oh, Greg, that's the blond kid who always wears an Iron Maiden shirt. David, he's that guy with the green Mohawk. And Michael's the one with the scar across half his face." But this was different. He noticed how soft Bobby's lips looked, so very kissable. The way his shirt had slid up, revealing tantalizing skin, pale and smooth. The way Bobby's body felt against his, so very right. The only light source in the room was the television, which cast white shadows over Bobby's face and caused him to look close to ethereal. And the tired little half-smile he sent in John's direction while stretching a little, lean muscles rippling beneath the thin t-shirt, made John's stomach flutter in a way that wasn't even close to unpleasant, but so very inconvenient.
John didn't plan much in his life. He didn't plan to set the cat on fire when he was nine. Burning down half his school was also a complete accident. Not even running away from home was planned, it just happened. And something he sure as hell never planned on was falling in love with his best friend. That was a complete accident, doomed from the very beginning.
He had no idea what to do about it. Talking to Bobby was not an option, because John wasn't a talking kind of guy, he was an acting kind of guy. And talking about love was just too big in any case. Not to mention that Bobby was already taken by now. If John had realized his feelings a little sooner, he might've had a chance. But now Bobby had a girlfriend. Who made him happy, even if she was death reincarnated wrapped in a nice little female package, complete with southern accent.
Although John did try, even if it was rather pointless. He showed off to get attention, he spent even more time with Bobby, he tried to cause friction of the wrong kind between Bobby and Rogue. Sometimes he'd even flirt with Rogue, all the while looking over his shoulder, watching Bobby's reactions. He tried to find some way to let Bobby know what he felt, without actually telling him. And somewhere along the line, he realized the futility of his efforts.
And he never planned to, but he still forced Bobby to choose. Me or her. Not really saying it, because he still wasn't one to talk seriously, still couldn't talk about love. Only silently hoping Bobby would understand. Maybe Bobby didn't get it, or maybe he understood very well, but in any case, he didn't choose John. So John left alone. Walked away, and never looked back. Just like in the movies.
And if he did look back, it was as much of an accident as everything else in his life.
The End
Author's Ramblings: Look ma, my first X-Men movie-verse fic! I usually lurk in the X-Men: Evolution section. But I had this moment earlier when I needed to go to sleep, so of course, inspiration hit. And just wouldn't leave me alone. Oh well. Please don't hurt me! And I don't know if this (the story, not my ramblings. . .) makes sense to anyone but me, so . . . yeah. And this is dedicated to my younger sister, who went and saw X2 with me without complaining. It was a week after it'd started showing, and the cinema was two thirds empty.
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Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Although my older sister used to have dozens of Dr. Pepper, conveniently placed just about everywhere in our house.
Distribution: If you want it, you can have it. Just keep my name with it and let me know where it ends up.