Disclaimer: I own neither X-Men: Evolution nor the characters featured in this fic.
It's best to read this if you're caught up with the new Evo episodes, or you more than likely won't understand what's going on.
Once more: THIS STORY CONTAINS SLASH. If that's not your cup of tea, there's a nifty back button at the top of your browser. I'd suggest using it.
Your Water to my Whiskey
"Fancy meeting you here."
The boy standing in front of from him simply glared, blue eyes smoldering with hatred and resentment, his arms folded firmly across his chest.
"Oh, don't gimme that look, lad. How's about a nice whiskey to calm you down, hmm?" Swirling his own glass of whiskey, he listens to the cool ice clink against the sides with satisfaction, gracing the blue-eyed boy with a mischievously charming smile. "You seem a bit…" Drink. "Parched."
If possible, the boy's eyes darkened further. "You know I can't."
"Oh, a prude, then? S'pose it'll be water for you." He left for a moment, returning with another glass filled to the brim with clear liquid, two full ice cubes bobbing at the top enticingly. He set it down and grinned darkly as the boy made no move to take it. "What's the matter, boy?" he asked, not a single hint of concern in his voice. "Bit beyond your reach, is it? It's all right, take your time."
"You're a basterd, Lucas."
"Aye," he—Lucas—responded. His grin widened as he dipped a finger into the chilled water, swirling it around for a moment before he brought the finger to his lips and slowly licked the liquid away, eyes locked with the boy in front of him. "That I may be… but you need me. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't even be talking right now."
The boy's jaw tightened and he pointed an accusing finger in Lucas' direction. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be in this mess!"
"True." Lucas appeared lost in thought for a moment, sipping his whiskey as he idly gazed up at the ceiling. When the boy thought the conversation might be over, he suddenly spoke, voice distant and relaxed as that of a casual observer. "You've grown a spine, you know? I like that." Gaze locked with blue eyes once more and he smiled, a strange, crooked smile. "I like you. You remind me a bit of myself, only…" Rolling hand gesture, searching for the right word. "Stupid."
The boy frowned, and Lucas continued, "And a lot less striking. But we can't hold those things against you, now can we?" He smirked, almost leered, at the boy now, drawing a bit closer. "Not that you aren't pretty in your own, simple way, of course."
"What are you getting at?"
He tucked a loose strand of blond hair behind his ear. "Hmm, I believe I rather fancy you."
Taking a step back, the boy's eyes shot open much wider than he ever thought imaginable. He stared for several seconds, sputtering incoherently, until he finally managed a meager, "Wh-what..?"
"You're the glass of water to my whiskey." Lucas' smile contorted into a wicked grin as he dipped his finger into the glass of water once again. "You're quite the catch when you're frightened, you know?" A far-off look in his eye as he remembered something not too long ago—stone walls, a castle cellar, bruises and scrapes and whimpers of pain. He brings his hand to the boy's lips and gently runs his fingers across, ignoring the water that dribbled onto the table below. "Frightened and beaten. If the circumstances were different—"
"You're sick, Lucas!" The boy backed away once more, trying desperately to wipe the look of horror off his face, but to no avail. His stomach twisted in knots and he fought the urge to wretch, the abandoned look in Lucas' eyes adding to his nausea. "Sick!"
"Aye."
Horror turned to anger in the blink of an eye and suddenly the boy was in Lucas' face, hands balled into fists that itched to meet his grinning face. "This won't last!" he shouted. His eyes stung hot with tears of frustration he refused to shed. "You know it won't! The professor'll find a way to make things right and then—"
"ENOUGH!" A swift punch and the boy's image broke into a thousand pieces, each one glowering at Lucas, taunting and hateful. The mirror fell as if in slow motion and collapsed on the carpeted floor below, taking its table stand and the glass of water with it and shattering into a million more shards. Lucas stepped back, brow furrowed, eyes narrowed, glaring at the pieces that lined the floor and heedless of his now bloodied hand. He was in the hotel room alone, though he continued to speak. "No one, not even Daddy Xavier, can save you now, David! He already made things right. This," he gestured at himself, heaving with fury, "is the way it should be, with me—the one who can utilize our powers most effectively—in control!"
Among the remnants of the mirror lay an unbroken glass, its contents washing over the shards of David like mournful teardrops. Taking a calming breath, Lucas leaned over and picked it up, carefully avoiding eye contact. He tossed his whiskey aside and gulped down the last few drops of water in the glass. "I only regret that he didn't do a better job of it," he mumbled, walking over the broken mirror, paying no mind to any pain he might feel. Slowly, he slipped into his bed and, with one last bout of anger, threw the glass onto the floor where it shattered and mingled with that of David's broken likeness.
With a sigh, he turned off the light and sank into the bed's comforter, a new, twisted grin playing on his lips in the darkness. "See you tomorrow, love."
- end -
Further notes: Odd, yes, and maybe not very good.. but it's my fault for choosing something so difficult. It's hard to make a story like this work in just 45 minutes. ^^;
Since Lucas and David are separate personalities, this still counts as slash.. right? Or maybe I'm just sick. X3 Oh well.