A/N: My, wasn't that last chapter... blissful? ::forces a sweet smile:: I'm in the process of being *really* pissed, 'cause I just got three of my stories deleted from my other account, because some *asshole* reported them for having 'explicit content'... And *one* of them didn't even *have* any. ::growls::
~*~
After The Applause Dies Down
by Wolfie
~If I Smile And Don't Believe~
Pietro stared out, into the waning darkness- a growing habit of his, it seemed- his eyes unfocused, unseeing. The sun was slowly rising. He'd been up all night. Even after the numerous times he and Lance had had sex, the older boy's almost reluctant repetition of the exhausting act, he found that he was unable to sleep. Something kept flitting about inside his head- something he couldn't quite grasp. He simply *couldn't* shut his mind off.
Before, sex had relaxed him. Cleared his mind, let him sleep easier. But he'd had it every way he could thing of, not letting Lance rest completely until *he* was satisfied. And it took quite a bit to satisfy Pietro Maximoff. But now, Lance was beside him, slumbering soundly, snoring quietly, and *he* was wide awake. He wouldn't be surprised if Lance slept through the next day or two, either, after such an... *intense* work-out. There was no way the rock-tumbler had ever been exposed to a sexual appetite like Pietro's before.
Pietro sighed, drawing his knees up, curling in on himself. He hadn't been able to do that for over a week, but now those cursed bindings had been released, and he easily regained the odd sense of comfort he'd been missing so. He wrapped his arms around his folded legs, buried his nose between them. Unbidden, a tear ran down his cheek, a soft sob fell from his lips. He tightly shut his eyes, willing the pain- the *misery*- away.
He'd wished so hard that Lance could quell the pulsing agony, heal the stinging wounds. But the haze of pleasure had faded and he was left with the oh-so-familiar *hurt* that seemed to coil itself around his very soul, his body numb against it. He'd *hoped* that he'd be able to melt into Lance's embrace, stay there forever, keep his promise, get *better*, but...
"I can't..." His words were less than a whisper, hoarse and tearful, choked from his throat, "I just... can't," He curled in further, reaching for the comfort that seemed to be slipping through his fingers, "I can't get better... Lance, I'm so sorry..." The tears were flowing freely then, wetting eyelashes, cheeks and the pillow beneath his head. He cried silently. For the loss of the small bit of faith he'd had left. For the promise he knew he'd already broken.
He wondered where that awful tiredness he'd been suffering through had gone. Where had the simplicity of closing his eyes and falling asleep disappeared to? It hardly seemed fair, anymore. *Life* hardly seemed fair.
"Pietro?" Lance's voice was thick with drowsiness, "Why're you still awake?"
"I'm not."
"Awake and *crying*. What'd I do now?"
"I'm not."
"You're *trembling*, Pietro. And your voice is cracking."
"I'm not, and *it's* not."
"Stop that," Lance chided, gently pulling the smaller teen against his own body. Pietro's back fit perfectly against his chest and stomach, he head tucked neatly beneath Lance's chin. Warm hands stroked soothingly over his chest and stomach, coaxing him to uncurl and relax into the embrace, "Now... tell me what I did."
"Nothing. I just..." The smaller boy twisted, turning, so that he could bury his face in his pillow, "It was supposed to make things better. The pain shouldn't have come back..." Lance was, to say the least, a bit confused, "But... I still hurt. It didn't help. I'll never get better... I can't..."
"Hey. Don't say that," The older teen's voice took on a new tone, one that Pietro had never heard before- never thought he *would* hear, "You can't expect everything to be alright after just *one* night. Believe me, if anyone wishes sex had that kinda healing power, it's me. But it *doesn't*, okay? So... just give it some time. I promise, I won't give up... But you can't give up either. *You* promised *me*. Remember? Now you just have to keep that promise," Pietro said nothing for a long while, sniffling softly into the pillow case, shaking terribly, despite the tight grip Lance had on his body.
"I don't know if I can..." He finally whispered, barely audible, "Everything hurts so much... I just..." His words dissolved into a soundless sob. Lance was rocking him slowly, raining gentle kisses down on his shoulder, the back of his neck, and occasionally just behind his ear.
"You can. I won't let you break that promise, Pietro. I *won't*," The tone of his voice finalized the matter, but Pietro knew it was far from over. Lance said that it would take time, but he felt like time was running out. Even so, he let himself be cuddled, and comforted, let those calming hands lull him into an empty, dreamless sleep.
~*~
It was the irritating sun that roused Todd the next morning. Shining much too brightly against his shut eyes, drawing a splitting headache out of hiding. He groaned, twisting away from the awful pain, and finding he couldn't escape it. He tried to pull his blankets up, over his face, only to discover that they weren't there. Which shouldn't have been much of a surprise, really, because he'd slept on the couch the previous night.
"Fuuuuuck..." He sheilded his eyes with both arms, praying to a god he didn't even believe in that the sun would just fall out of the sky and leave him the hell alone. Of course, that didn't happen, so he opted to roll over and bury his face in the couch cushions, groaning and moaning in response to the throbbing pain in his head.
"Dammit, Todd. You drank the rest of the beer!" Lance's voice was too loud. Everything was too loud. His own *breathing* was too fucking loud.
"And my vodka!" Pietro was somewhere behind Lance, not quite as loud, but still... "You drank my fucking vodka! You little bastard!"
"Headache..." Was Todd's only reply.
"Y'know, there was a *reason* I hid it," The speed demon's words were laced with irritation. Todd, quite stupidly, rolled back over and made a face at his two older housemates.
"Well, y'didn't hide it well enough," As if his head didn't hurt enough all ready, the repeated smacking with a pillow only made it worse, Pietro beating him as brutally as possible with the feather-stuffed bed item as he could, "Ow! Ow! Alright! I give! I give!!"
Abruptly, the flurry of attacks stopped, the snowy haired boy looking quite satisfied with himself.
"You *deserve* that hang-over," He was taunting, sneer firmly in place, while Lance was looking about the room.
"You didn't drink all of this *yourself* did you?" The rock tumbler asked.
"No..." In a flash, Pietro was sitting on top of him, bouncing on his stomach. Making him even more nauseaus than he'd been before.
"Ooh! Ooh! Did you bring someone home? I know you did! Who was it?" There was a brief pause in the speed demon's excited words, barely noticable, "Was it *him*?"
"Pietro, *no*," The last thing Todd wanted was for Pietro to start blabbering about setting him up with Kurt. Especially with *Lance* right there.
"Don't worry. I won't tell. But was it?"
"Yeah."
"*Did* you?"
"What? No!"
A huge grin spread over Pietro's elfin features, twisting them from beautiful to frightening.
"Good. That means I'll still have something to do on Monday..." And with a devious cackle, he was gone, disappearing into the kitchen, shouting to Lance about needing groceries.
~*~
Lance sighed quietly, running his fingers through Pietro's silky hair, somewhat thankful that the speedster had dozed off. His first day back out of that bed, and Pietro had spent all of it running around, doing idiotic things. He'd even insisted that Lance drive him up to the mall, just so that he could go admire the running shoes. But finally, the white haired boy had drifted off, and now he lay on the couch, his head rested lightly on Lance's lap.
Todd was perched comfortably on the back of the couch, feet set just next to Pietro's hip, taking extra care not to accidentally wake the slumbering teenager. Fred was on the floor, leaning back against the same couch that the other three were on. And all three were watching the television, quite intently, though none of them were really too interested in the movie that was on. It was Pietro's choice- and not exactly anything they would've picked- with an excruciatingly twisted plot. The kind that made you *think*. They couldn't quite figure out the point to that. Movies were supposed to be for entertainment. How entertaining could it be if you had to *think* about what was happening?
But, none of them were going to complain. They'd let Pietro pick the movie, because they all felt a little bad, locking him in his room the way they had. It was a mutual agreement, mostly silent. And they all pretended not to be too irritated when the speedster fell asleep. After all, he'd had a fairly long day. He couldn't really be blamed.
"Y'think... y'think he'll ever go back to bein' the way he was?" Todd asked quietly, long after the movie had ended. Lance's eyes were fixed on the white haired boy, Pietro's soft, effeminate face relaxed in sleep.
"I can't really say..." Was his only reply as he stroked Pietro's cheek a bit sadly. Todd nodded and looked back at the black telelvision screen, completely missing the single tear that slipped down the side of Lance's face and splashed soundlessly on the porcelain skin of the boy in his lap.
~tbc~
::cackles:: And you thought everything was getting back to normal with the boys, didn't you? ::snort:: Yeah right! I enjoy torturing them too much!! ^_^ Well, review, eh? ::grin:: Please??
~*~
After The Applause Dies Down
by Wolfie
~If I Smile And Don't Believe~
Pietro stared out, into the waning darkness- a growing habit of his, it seemed- his eyes unfocused, unseeing. The sun was slowly rising. He'd been up all night. Even after the numerous times he and Lance had had sex, the older boy's almost reluctant repetition of the exhausting act, he found that he was unable to sleep. Something kept flitting about inside his head- something he couldn't quite grasp. He simply *couldn't* shut his mind off.
Before, sex had relaxed him. Cleared his mind, let him sleep easier. But he'd had it every way he could thing of, not letting Lance rest completely until *he* was satisfied. And it took quite a bit to satisfy Pietro Maximoff. But now, Lance was beside him, slumbering soundly, snoring quietly, and *he* was wide awake. He wouldn't be surprised if Lance slept through the next day or two, either, after such an... *intense* work-out. There was no way the rock-tumbler had ever been exposed to a sexual appetite like Pietro's before.
Pietro sighed, drawing his knees up, curling in on himself. He hadn't been able to do that for over a week, but now those cursed bindings had been released, and he easily regained the odd sense of comfort he'd been missing so. He wrapped his arms around his folded legs, buried his nose between them. Unbidden, a tear ran down his cheek, a soft sob fell from his lips. He tightly shut his eyes, willing the pain- the *misery*- away.
He'd wished so hard that Lance could quell the pulsing agony, heal the stinging wounds. But the haze of pleasure had faded and he was left with the oh-so-familiar *hurt* that seemed to coil itself around his very soul, his body numb against it. He'd *hoped* that he'd be able to melt into Lance's embrace, stay there forever, keep his promise, get *better*, but...
"I can't..." His words were less than a whisper, hoarse and tearful, choked from his throat, "I just... can't," He curled in further, reaching for the comfort that seemed to be slipping through his fingers, "I can't get better... Lance, I'm so sorry..." The tears were flowing freely then, wetting eyelashes, cheeks and the pillow beneath his head. He cried silently. For the loss of the small bit of faith he'd had left. For the promise he knew he'd already broken.
He wondered where that awful tiredness he'd been suffering through had gone. Where had the simplicity of closing his eyes and falling asleep disappeared to? It hardly seemed fair, anymore. *Life* hardly seemed fair.
"Pietro?" Lance's voice was thick with drowsiness, "Why're you still awake?"
"I'm not."
"Awake and *crying*. What'd I do now?"
"I'm not."
"You're *trembling*, Pietro. And your voice is cracking."
"I'm not, and *it's* not."
"Stop that," Lance chided, gently pulling the smaller teen against his own body. Pietro's back fit perfectly against his chest and stomach, he head tucked neatly beneath Lance's chin. Warm hands stroked soothingly over his chest and stomach, coaxing him to uncurl and relax into the embrace, "Now... tell me what I did."
"Nothing. I just..." The smaller boy twisted, turning, so that he could bury his face in his pillow, "It was supposed to make things better. The pain shouldn't have come back..." Lance was, to say the least, a bit confused, "But... I still hurt. It didn't help. I'll never get better... I can't..."
"Hey. Don't say that," The older teen's voice took on a new tone, one that Pietro had never heard before- never thought he *would* hear, "You can't expect everything to be alright after just *one* night. Believe me, if anyone wishes sex had that kinda healing power, it's me. But it *doesn't*, okay? So... just give it some time. I promise, I won't give up... But you can't give up either. *You* promised *me*. Remember? Now you just have to keep that promise," Pietro said nothing for a long while, sniffling softly into the pillow case, shaking terribly, despite the tight grip Lance had on his body.
"I don't know if I can..." He finally whispered, barely audible, "Everything hurts so much... I just..." His words dissolved into a soundless sob. Lance was rocking him slowly, raining gentle kisses down on his shoulder, the back of his neck, and occasionally just behind his ear.
"You can. I won't let you break that promise, Pietro. I *won't*," The tone of his voice finalized the matter, but Pietro knew it was far from over. Lance said that it would take time, but he felt like time was running out. Even so, he let himself be cuddled, and comforted, let those calming hands lull him into an empty, dreamless sleep.
~*~
It was the irritating sun that roused Todd the next morning. Shining much too brightly against his shut eyes, drawing a splitting headache out of hiding. He groaned, twisting away from the awful pain, and finding he couldn't escape it. He tried to pull his blankets up, over his face, only to discover that they weren't there. Which shouldn't have been much of a surprise, really, because he'd slept on the couch the previous night.
"Fuuuuuck..." He sheilded his eyes with both arms, praying to a god he didn't even believe in that the sun would just fall out of the sky and leave him the hell alone. Of course, that didn't happen, so he opted to roll over and bury his face in the couch cushions, groaning and moaning in response to the throbbing pain in his head.
"Dammit, Todd. You drank the rest of the beer!" Lance's voice was too loud. Everything was too loud. His own *breathing* was too fucking loud.
"And my vodka!" Pietro was somewhere behind Lance, not quite as loud, but still... "You drank my fucking vodka! You little bastard!"
"Headache..." Was Todd's only reply.
"Y'know, there was a *reason* I hid it," The speed demon's words were laced with irritation. Todd, quite stupidly, rolled back over and made a face at his two older housemates.
"Well, y'didn't hide it well enough," As if his head didn't hurt enough all ready, the repeated smacking with a pillow only made it worse, Pietro beating him as brutally as possible with the feather-stuffed bed item as he could, "Ow! Ow! Alright! I give! I give!!"
Abruptly, the flurry of attacks stopped, the snowy haired boy looking quite satisfied with himself.
"You *deserve* that hang-over," He was taunting, sneer firmly in place, while Lance was looking about the room.
"You didn't drink all of this *yourself* did you?" The rock tumbler asked.
"No..." In a flash, Pietro was sitting on top of him, bouncing on his stomach. Making him even more nauseaus than he'd been before.
"Ooh! Ooh! Did you bring someone home? I know you did! Who was it?" There was a brief pause in the speed demon's excited words, barely noticable, "Was it *him*?"
"Pietro, *no*," The last thing Todd wanted was for Pietro to start blabbering about setting him up with Kurt. Especially with *Lance* right there.
"Don't worry. I won't tell. But was it?"
"Yeah."
"*Did* you?"
"What? No!"
A huge grin spread over Pietro's elfin features, twisting them from beautiful to frightening.
"Good. That means I'll still have something to do on Monday..." And with a devious cackle, he was gone, disappearing into the kitchen, shouting to Lance about needing groceries.
~*~
Lance sighed quietly, running his fingers through Pietro's silky hair, somewhat thankful that the speedster had dozed off. His first day back out of that bed, and Pietro had spent all of it running around, doing idiotic things. He'd even insisted that Lance drive him up to the mall, just so that he could go admire the running shoes. But finally, the white haired boy had drifted off, and now he lay on the couch, his head rested lightly on Lance's lap.
Todd was perched comfortably on the back of the couch, feet set just next to Pietro's hip, taking extra care not to accidentally wake the slumbering teenager. Fred was on the floor, leaning back against the same couch that the other three were on. And all three were watching the television, quite intently, though none of them were really too interested in the movie that was on. It was Pietro's choice- and not exactly anything they would've picked- with an excruciatingly twisted plot. The kind that made you *think*. They couldn't quite figure out the point to that. Movies were supposed to be for entertainment. How entertaining could it be if you had to *think* about what was happening?
But, none of them were going to complain. They'd let Pietro pick the movie, because they all felt a little bad, locking him in his room the way they had. It was a mutual agreement, mostly silent. And they all pretended not to be too irritated when the speedster fell asleep. After all, he'd had a fairly long day. He couldn't really be blamed.
"Y'think... y'think he'll ever go back to bein' the way he was?" Todd asked quietly, long after the movie had ended. Lance's eyes were fixed on the white haired boy, Pietro's soft, effeminate face relaxed in sleep.
"I can't really say..." Was his only reply as he stroked Pietro's cheek a bit sadly. Todd nodded and looked back at the black telelvision screen, completely missing the single tear that slipped down the side of Lance's face and splashed soundlessly on the porcelain skin of the boy in his lap.
~tbc~
::cackles:: And you thought everything was getting back to normal with the boys, didn't you? ::snort:: Yeah right! I enjoy torturing them too much!! ^_^ Well, review, eh? ::grin:: Please??